What rubbish is this? Damara thought, repulsed as she watched a market play. They had announced it as the story of their princess, the true Dragon Slave as they called her, who was rescued by their mighty King Chadwick.
A man wearing a bluish-grey dragon costume flapped his wings dramatically, calling out, “I am River- the most fearsome spy of all the dragons!”
Besides Damara, the audience gathered in the town square was enraptured, cheering as a fraudulent king overpowered the pretend dragon. Tying up the winged man, he demanded, “Take me to my sister, Princess Theora!”
Defeated, the bound dragon slunk along the stage. The king drove him mercilessly with a fake spear until four new dragons arrived- more costumed men that roared and gnashed their teeth. Behind them, a youthful boy cried out to the king, grasping his dress and girlish wig fearfully.
“Save me, Brother!” he screamed. His immature voice cracked. “Kill them all!”
Fools! Damara glared at the performance. A soft, chilling breeze fluttered the short cape around her arms and teased her long dress. They have no idea what the dragons are like!
She stormed away, shoving the other children out of her way, careful not to touch the adults as she passed. When all she could hear was the voices of the crowds, she stopped, hopping up onto a stout wall. There she sat with her back leaned up against the side of a house.
If they met the dragons they wouldn’t be so arrogant, Damara seethed. She closed her eyes, scowling as she heard the audience clap and cheer yet again.
Am I the only one who knows the truth?
She breathed softly, trying to recall her most vivid memory of a dragon- the first one she met when she was still a small child. The vision came, calming her as the gentle wind blew in her face, making her light brown hair quiver and tickle her neck.
Deep red was the dragon that smiled down at her in her memories. A beautiful, reptilian face looking into her eyes with an understanding she’d never sensed from anyone else. Damara could still imagine the rain drizzling down as she recalled the dragon’s name.
Jacinth.
She thought for sure another dragon had been there as well, but she couldn’t remember who. She couldn’t even remember what the second dragon looked like.
I’ll never see them again.
She bit her lip in discouragement.
Will I be stuck here till the day I die? With these people?
The thought was incomprehensible. It sounded like a death sentence in itself.
“Damara, there you are.”
A familiar female voice met her ears and she looked up. “Hello, Catherine,” she said, failing to hide the bitterness in her voice.
Catherine was, without a doubt, the prettiest young woman Damara had ever seen, with her light blonde hair and elegantly long nose. Commoners regarded the rosy birth mark on her cheek as a sign of good luck. But the thing Damara envied her for most of all was her eyes- a soft, minty green that stood out like lily pads on the water.
Of course, as sweet as she was, Catherine would insist that Damara’s eyes were a lovely blue. Yet Damara was convinced the color faded from them a little more each day.
“Did you see the play?” Catherine asked pleasantly. “I think you’d have enjoyed it. It had dragons in it- like the ones you tell me about.”
“Except not,” Damara muttered under her breath.
She’s just like all the other people. She doesn’t understand anything about the dragons.
Guilt came over her, knowing her resentfulness was unjust. She could tell Catherine was just trying to be kind. Still, she wondered if her brother had anything to do with it. She’d seen how her friend looked at him. And how Xander looked at her.
Damara stiffened once more.
“Oh Damara, did you cut your hair again?” Catherine asked, reaching out to touch it. “You know, it would look lovely if you let it grow out.”
“Like yours?” Damara responded out of obligation, not interest. She liked her hair short so it didn’t get as tangled. She didn’t want to deal with the hassle of brushing it out and putting it in a long braid like Catherine did.
Damara sighed. “You always find the time to make yourself pretty, Cath.”
Catherine smiled. She was gorgeous.
It’s obvious why Xander is so fond of her, Damara thought jealously. She catches every eye.
“Oh!” Catherine’s hand flew to her hair. With slender fingers, she checked for flaws in the seemingly perfect braid. Damara narrowed her eyes, knowing well by her friend’s sudden shyness that Xander was coming towards them.
Don’t swoon with desire, she gibed silently and turned to face her brother.
Xander met them with a lively smile. “Hey,” he said.
He really has grown into a man, she thought, noting his well-trimmed hair and clean-shaven face. It’s obvious why Catherine is so fond of him…
Catherine and Xander were the only people Damara truly cared about. But whenever she saw them catching each other’s eyes, it put her on edge.
Will they start ignoring me once they realize they feel the same way about each other? she feared. Will I be nothing more than a ghost?
No, she refused.
I will not be forgotten.
“Did you see the play, Xander?” Damara asked him flatly, resting her head on one knee. “Didn’t they portray the dragons perfectly?”
He neglected to answer, grinning offhandedly. She could tell he was evading her gaze as he said to Catherine, “How did you like Clem’s performance? Did you see his beard?”
Catherine tittered nervously as Xander braided imaginary facial hair from his chin all the way down to his chest.
Why does he always get like this when I mention the dragons? Damara wondered. It’s not that he denies anything- he just doesn’t respond at all.
She knew Xander didn’t want to encourage her dreams about life with the dragons.
Why doesn’t he tell me those days are done and over with? To stop thinking about the dragons all together?
He never says anything bad about them…I suppose he still respects them.
Does he remember more than I do?
Damara looked at Catherine, who simpered at her- a sympathetic expression that made Damara feel like a little child with ridiculous fantasies.
I hate that smile.
Damara watched as raindrops began to fall from the grey clouds overhead. Xander barely seemed to notice the rain, but Catherine shielded her hair, looking up in dismay.
“Mother should be waiting for me at the house,” Catherine excused herself warily.
Xander grinned. “Alright. See you there.”
With a shy smile, Catherine turned and walked away. Damara watched her friend go, feeling rather guilty for being so cross.
It’s just that dim-witted play, she grumbled to herself, wet hair sticking to her face.
Looking to Xander, she noticed him pull out his knife and a half-carved lump of wood. Damara hid a smile as she recognized its shape as an animal of some sort.
Is he making that for me?
Trying not to sound overly curious, she asked, “What’s that?”
“Something,” he replied vaguely, turning away from her as he whittled.
He doesn’t want me to see it. Damara grinned, looking away. It’s definitely for me.
The sound of hooves battering the ground grew louder. She and Xander turned their heads to it.
What’s the rush? Damara wondered, knitting her brow with concern.
A herald’s voice struck the air with urgency. “Swaineford has been attacked! Swaineford has been attacked by dragons!”
Chapter 2