Over the next few days, the streets hummed with commoners sharing what they knew about the dragon invasion of Swaineford.
Of all the towns in Wystil, Swaineford was arguably the most important. It was a huge trading town, with the only reliable bridge across Swaine River. A big portion of Wystil stood on the other side of that river. Without access to Swaineford Bridge, communication from that upperpart of Wystil was almost completely severed from the castle.
It was reported that dragons of terrible size had attacked from above, breathing fire and destroying houses. The beasts wrecked the whole town and killed nearly everyone inside. The few survivors escaped to the Wystilian castle, to tell of what they’d witnessed.
Word had it that King Chadwick was gathering an army. A huge one.
It was like the time he’d prepared his army to fight the mighty dragon, Zeus, in hopes of saving his sister, Princess Theora. Except this time it wasn’t just his best knights. He was calling people off the streets to fight. Able-bodied men- rich or poor, young or old.
His objective, they said, was to wipe out all the dragons.
This can’t be happening, Damara told herself, walking home with a pail of well water. Beside her, a group of boys talked amongst themselves with much excitement.
“We can’t miss the Parade of the Troops when they march around the castle,” she heard one say. “It’s happening on Saint Morehice Day, isn’t it?”
Parade of the Troops? Damara hung inconspicuously nearby.
“Oh, we’ll be there!” another declared. “And so will half the kingdom! This is the biggest threat Wystil’s seen since Crageria. Maybe even bigger!”
“Not if the Huskhns challenge us,” someone opposed.
But to this, a boy argued, “They’re only fierce at sea.”
There was some dispute between the boys. Damara was about to walk away again when she heard one pipe up, “I hear Princess Theora doesn’t want King Chadwick to kill all those devils.”
“She’s still trying to convince everyone that the dragons aren’t our enemies? They’ve attacked Swaineford! I tell you, that woman is insane.”
“We should hand her back over to the dragons. I’ll wager that’s what they’re after!”
“Yeah, leave it to the devils to see any value in her!”
The boys laughed uproariously.
“Quiet, if you know what’s good for you!” an old man silenced them with a hiss. “That’s the royal family you’re mocking.”
Damara walked on, mulling over what she had just heard.
Princess Theora is on the dragons’ side?
She remembered hearing before that King Chadwick’s sister had different views about the beasts even though they had supposedly kidnapped her.
What does she know about the dragons? she wondered.
Damara recalled the time when Xander tried to convince her that they had met the Princess before. He said that she gave them both a ride on her horse.
The things he makes up! She scoffed to herself. Why would he say something as ridiculous as that, but not tell me more about the dragon colony?
Dragons couldn’t have attacked Swaineford. They aren’t evil like that. Maybe they were attacked first and they were just fighting back? Or maybe all of this is just a lie!
I didn’t even know there were still dragons here. The Colony left! Did they come back? Maybe some of them got left behind?
Her heart jumped hopefully. Maybe I can meet one again.
Her memory of Jacinth resurfaced in her mind. A friend that actually understood her.
The clouds above Damara’s head were stained yellow and grey. They hung in the sky as one, endless sheet, like a feathery pelt. Damara gazed up at them when a sudden gust of frigid wind blew the hood off her head and tugged at her cape.
More bothersome than little children, Damara thought crossly, drawing the light hood back around her face. She glared down the road as she walked, bracing herself for every freezing whisper of a breeze.
As she neared Catherine’s father’s house, where she and Xander were allowed to live, she saw that just across the street Xander and Catherine were sitting close together.
Too close. Damara thought. Her eyes flew open in disgust as she noticed they were holding hands.
She hung back a moment and waited to time her intrusion perfectly, walking up to them just as their attention began to narrow in on nothing but each other. They looked up at her, somewhat startled.
“Hello, Cath,” Damara said. “What are you doing?”
Her pretty friend let go of Xander’s hand, looking away as she blushed to the rosy color of her birthmark.
Don’t forget that’s my brother, Damara reminded her silently. She noticed her brother’s mouth twitch. It gave her a little thrill. He’s not so happy to see me. But I have just as much reason to be in front of the house as he does.
Damara’s eyes searched the flowers tucked into Catherine’s hair. “Those are pretty,” she commented, her voice edged with mockery.
Nonetheless, Catherine thanked her quietly, softly brushing the largest one with her fingertips. Damara wondered if Xander was the one who had put them in her hair.
She sat on the ground in front of them. Maybe I can bore them with conversation until they decide they don’t like each other anymore.
She knew it was unlikely.
“Did you do any pargeting today?” she asked her brother in an interested tone.
“I did,” he answered. Damara could hear him battling the annoyance in his own voice. “Catherine’s father is a wonderful mentor.” As he said her name, he retook Catherine’s hand in his, looking back at Damara, challenging her.
Not everything can be the way you want it, Damara could read the message his eyes were sending her and she gritted her teeth.
“Damara, can you come in here for a moment?” Catherine’s mother called from inside the house.
Now? Damara was dismayed. She’s making me leave them alone, together, now?
She sat there, pretending not to have heard.
“Cath’s mom wants you, Damara,” Xander told her firmly.
She curled her lip, seeing Catherine relax as Damara got back up on her feet to enter the house. She could feel her brother watching her as she went.
“What is it?” Damara asked the lady of the house irritably.
“Sorry, Dear,” Catherine’s mother whispered, pressed flat up against the wall. Damara was confused to see the woman in such an odd position, a giddy spark in her eye. “You just happened to walk in on them at the worst possible time.”
“What?” Damara asked, now more perplexed than annoyed.
The woman hushed her and beckoned her closer. “Look,” she whispered in excitement.
Damara saw that she was looking through a small window. She, too, peered through it, crouching below Catherine’s mother, and found that she could see both her brother and Cath across the road.
Damara’s skin crawled as she saw Xander reach up and touch Catherine’s cheek.
“Oh, he’s the one,” Catherine’s mother murmured. They watched as the two lovers gazed into each other’s eyes. “My goodness,” the older woman purred. “They’re perfect for each other.”
Damara’s heart leapt when she saw Xander take something from his satchel. It was the wooden figurine she thought he had been whittling for her.
Catherine gasped in delight, accepting and admiring the gift.
That should be mine! Damara objected, furiously silent. I’m his sister!
She dug her fingernails into her palms, but the woman above her was exuberant.
“When’s the wedding?” Catherine’s mother joked, elbowing Damara in the ribs.
Damara’s temper flared. She jumped up, nearly toppling the woman over as she pushed herself away from the wall. Breathing through her nostrils indignantly, she clenched her fists.
“Why- what’s the matter?” Catherine’s mother lost her whisper as she grasped the window sill to keep from falling.
/>
Damara screamed out loud, not caring who heard her.
She wanted to hit something. Her arm muscles tightened. She wanted to make her knuckles bleed.
“Hey! Hey!” Xander yelled. Suddenly, he was behind her, spinning her around to face him. “What is wrong with you?!”
She glared up at him through heated tears.
All around, familiar faces peered at her. Catherine and her mom stood at the doorway, worried gazes replicated on both their faces. Xander held her at arms’ length, looking disgusted.
Damara shook his strong hands off her shoulders and stamped out of the house, with Catherine rushing to move out of the doorway.
Damara ran out of town, into the wintry woods.
She split her knuckles on the trunk of a white barked pine and bawled curses at her brother, Catherine, herself.
They were the two people that cared about me! Now they only have eyes for each other…
Feeling more alone and isolated than ever, she pulled herself up into the lowest branches of the tree and kept reaching higher, climbing until the branches got so thin and weak she couldn’t dare trust them. There she clung, swaying with the skinny treetop, hot tears mixing with the sap caught in her tangled hair.
The wind was especially strong and she had to cling to the scratchy bark and prickly pine needles so as not to be blown away. She was like a bear cub, her arms wrapped tight around the flexible treetop that bowed and careened in every direction the wind took it.
I wish I never even met Catherine, Damara thought bitterly, remembering that day in the market when she eagerly helped remove a little monigon from her new friend’s braid. I should never have brought Xander to her family. Then he would never have been apprenticed by her father.
We could still be at the castle, working in the kitchen and the stables, like it used to be.
No, she thought, eyes flying open. Xander should never have taken me away. I could have lived with the dragons until the day I died.
That’s where I belong.
Her cape was torn and it flapped in the winter wind like a flag.
I’m really high up. Carefully, she peered over her shoulder to see the ground below. All around, she could see the tops of all the leafless trees. Aside from the rabid howling of wind, it was eerily quiet. She held on, watching the birds fly up out of the woody branches and past her head.
I must look out of place to them, she considered, then darkly reminded herself, I’m always out of place.
In the distance, Damara could see why her town was called Rookton. One of the Wystilian castle towers was clearly visible against the overcast sky, giving the town’s people an extra sense of security.
That’s all they’re ever concerned about, Damara scorned inside her head. Being safe.
They just go on, leading their boring lives, always fearing that something dangerous, something exciting, might come across their paths.
I can’t live like that.
Somewhere in the distance, church bells pealed. Damara marveled at the ground so far below. She wondered what falling from such great heights would be like. Even more, she wondered what flying would be like. It was amazing to imagine. She closed her eyes again, gently this time, and felt the brisk rush of air on her face.
How easy it would be to let go…and terrifying.
Reluctantly, she tucked her chin into her chest to see her feet. Picking her footing carefully, she stepped down one branch after another, listening for any crack or snap. The mighty trunk grew wider as she descended and she stuck to it, even when startled birds flew up around her.
She hadn’t realized how quickly she had climbed the lanky tree until this tedious decline all the way down. Damara always took pride in her climbing skills, but this was more impressive than anything else she’d ever scaled in her life. By the time her feet touched solid ground, her legs were shaking.
She almost smiled as she saw her blood on the tree’s light bark where she had hit it. She held her injured hand up to the mark, noting how the shapes of red matched.
Xander and Catherine are in love. Damara accepted the fact with a wave of cocky satisfaction. I will never fall in love. I don’t need anyone.
She felt the sense of solitude, letting it wash over her like a waterfall.
This is freedom.
Pine needles rattled as though sick and tired of being blown around. Damara smirked up at the trees’ bare branches.
“You’re obviously not afraid to make yourself bleed.”
Damara jumped as a voice spoke up behind her, brazen and growly. Her lips parted and her eyes widened in pure awe to see an oak grey beast slink out from behind the trees. His neck snaked around the trunk, his head low so as not to hit the branches.
His body followed after him, tough bat-like wings folded to his side and tail sweeping the frosty grass behind. He placed taloned feet on the ground beneath his plated belly as silently as a mountain lion, and stopped, staring at her.
“Hello, Damara,” the dragon purred, baring jagged teeth as he grinned. “Remember me?”
Chapter 3