The Wolf versus The Dragon

Drag silently picked his way through the enemy camp. His attack came moments before the dawn lit up the sky; silent and deadly. He spied his destination, the royal banners dancing in the soft wind that brought the mist from the lake to the East of the camp. The dawn and the mist working together to turn the smaller tents into grave stones. Drag knew that if he were to look into all the tents, the occupants would be dead their beds. Such was the nature of the "gift" that was passed down through the generations, the consequences of his temper.

"Now Dracul, I have warned you about your temper," he recalled his mother saying to him as she shoveled dirt upon the small grave that belonged to his pet mouse that did not feel like playing and bit him. Drag remembered crying to his mother that his pet was not moving and that was his first introduction to his "gift" that his mother called it. There had been many a pet that Drag helped cross over, but it was not until his fifteenth year that he began to control it and eased his beloved companion into the here after. Drag remembered how quickly the sickness passed through his favorite Raven, Eclipse. Eclipse had been a gift from Drag's mother for his thirteenth birthday. Two years later a sickness had overtaken the Raven flock and Drag watched as his gift washed over Eclipse and took her into her forever sky.

Drag's mother, Morigana, had the same gift and he wondered at her patience and the fact that he, himself, was still alive after all the mischief that would have caused a different outcome for a weaker mother's son. Drag remember his mother as a beautiful woman who was kind, caring, and selfless. Morigana traveled the lands after she received word of the battles that raged. Her presence was calming and she would visit with those near death and ease their path into the afterlife. Drag did not start accompanying his mother on these trips until he was thirteen. Drag would stand outside of the tents and watch as his mother soothed brows, washed away blood, and prayed to whatever deity was in fashion at the time. Drag watched as his mother's gift uncurled from her hands and swept over men, women, children, soldiers and innocents that were caught in the cross fire. The gift eased many from excruciating pain and the whispered of peace and freedom from the mortal world.

Drag often wondered hat would his mother think about the creature that he had become. Drag remembered wanting to follow in his mother's footsteps, offering comfort and quick deaths to those who were suffering. Then the King found out about Morigana and put a bounty on her head, denouncing her as a wicked being that deserved death. Drag had been no more than seventeen. Often haunted by the night that the King's men came for him and his mother. Morigana sacrificed herself for him, but Drag returned the next day. There was not a day that Drag did not see the devastation that the King's men had left behind.

Morigana was stripped of her clothing. Drag noted the bruising of her upper thighs, and while unexperienced knew that she had been violated. There were whip marks on her back and across her chest. The men had branded her as a prostitute believing that it would keep her from entering the Otherworld, before being hanged from Drag's favorite tree, while their cottage smoldered behind her. Drag picked up his mother's battered body and carried her to a near by stream. Using what he could salvage from the charred ruble of the cottage he cleaned her body and made a burial shroud. Drag carefully carried his mother back to their home and laid her down as he searched the edge of the forest for his axe.

After locating his axe, he came back to the tree. Drag ran his hand over the rough bark of the Wych Elm. Rumored to protect the dead and help sould reach the underworld, Drag had always felt a special connection to the tree. Leaning his forehead against the sturdy trunk, Drag whispered a prayer of forgiveness and began to swing his axe.

A few hours later, Drag had made a pyre. Scooping up his mother's body and gently laying her down on the pyre. The memory faded as Drag continued to make his way through the make shift cemetery.

A scream pierced the serenity of the dawn. Drag smiled, the demented smile of a person who had nothing left to lose. His queen was awake. He had mastered his power to the point where he left only her alive. That scream was filled with pain and disbelief. Pain to find her lover had not been spared and disbelief that she had. She burst out of the tent a few moments later. She must have slept in her under armor, a true warrior princess. Daciana was named for the wolf. Her people long ago haled from a land that worshiped humans that turned into hybrids depending on the moon phases. Her people had a legend that the wolf would triumph over death and then lead their people to glory. Daciana's father, King Omor, hoped that naming his daughter after the wolf would help ease her transition to Queen, he would never know if that would be the case. Drag's plans for vengeance for his mother included the capture of Daciana and turning her against her father, so he could experience the loss of his daughter like he lost his mother.

Drag had been planning his revenge for years. Watching the young princess grow and train. Watching the princess become her father's favorite. All while growing and mastering his powers. Plotting for his revenge. Daciana spotted Drag walking casually towards her. Her face immediately fell into that mask of determination and a sneer crinkled her face as she settled into a stance for hand to hand combat. If Daciana was going to die this morning, she was going to die fighting. Drag smirked at the defiance in that stance. Daciana's defiance to death and circumstances. Drag sent out a tendril of his power and Daciana was on her knees in front him. She still struggled against the invisible bonds that held her in place and her mouth shut, and Drag took pleasure in the fear that started to take root in her eyes.

"You know Princess, your father sent you here to annihilate a threat, and it would seem that you failed. You are now mine." Drag watched Daciana stiffen at that claim, then watched as she loosened into defeat. Drag not trusting Daciana's defeated posture kept the bonds in place. "Let's go home." Drag watched Daciana's eyes fill with fear again and smiled as he used his magic to teleport them to his home.

Drag's castle sat on top of a mountain, the early morning sun bathed the castle in light and left the valleys below in darkness the mists creating a veil around the land that left the location, and therefore an escape, a mystery. Drag led Daciana to a massive bedroom that was painted a deep forest green. The bed was massive and sat upon a platform that required two steps to reach. The fourposter bed was covered in ivory and pale pink pillows and bedclothes and draped with a sheer black canopy. Drag led Daciana through the room to one of the two doors on the other side to the bathing room. The room was black marble and the tub was sunk into a platform. Along the wall was an assortment of washes and oils that created a floral aroma that mixed with the steam and filled the senses. There was another door that Drag led Daciana through.

The room was bare. The stark white walls and emptiness gave a feeling of unease and felt unnatural compared to what they needed to walk through in order to get to this point. "This room is enchanted to you," Drag explained turning to look a Daciana, "what you think the magic in the room will provide." Drag no sooner finished the sentence when the room turned an angry red color. "Point taken," Drag drawled as he observed the walls become decorated with weapons of various shapes and sizes. Daciana continued to glare at Drag.

"You are probably wondering what plans I have for you. I have no plans to kill you, and you can be assured of that. But the reasons behind why I need you alive will continue to be my own little secrets. I can ensure your safety and well being while in the castle, but know that the minute you leave the castle grounds anything and everything will believe you to be fair game. They are loyal to no one but themselves and I will not be able to stop them if they decide that you would make a tasty dessert. Do you have any questions that don't involve why you are here?" Daciana continued to glare, malice and a threat of violence gleamed in her eye. "Alright, I'll leave you to it then."

With a snap of his fingers he was gone and Daciana felt the invisible bonds and gag fade away. She made her way over to the window and looked out into the wilderness. An ominous growl sounded throughout the mountain followed by the cry of prey becoming a meal. Daciana never related to anything more in her life. She looked out her window and tracked the sun across the sky until it disappeared behind the mountains and the stars began to shine. As the moonbeams washed over her, her walls broke and she crashed to her knees and wept.