Preface
1300 Words
An irritating twitch started in my left eye, for this alone, the God king's going to die. Merrin would regret the mistake he made keeping me a prisoner.
"You would think at twenty-four I would be in complete control of my life, even being a witch hasn't helped me any. My continuous flurry of moronic decisions, and bad choices in men, might be the reason my life sucks on a major scale." Sarcasm dripped from my first statement.
"Did you refer to me as a moron?"
I glared in the direction of the voice, concealed a little behind me.
"Excuse me, Mr Sensitive; not everything is about you. This is my story, put your five cents worth in later. I did not choose you remember, so you do not count." I said over my shoulder, not changing expression. My knees hurt from where the guards forced me to kneel on the cold hard ground. Eyes fixed upon me, the scent of their fear burning my sensitive nose as they checked and rechecked their weapons. I sneered in their direction.
"Continue your story, or I will put you back in your cells." The oppressive male before me ordered dryly, not interested in the byplay between my husband and me. I fought not to roll my eyes. I hated arrogant men they drove me mad and this one, not an exception.
"I want to use the old once upon a time. This beginning is used to death and usually follows with a cute little fairy tale. Fairies are a part of my story, though they are not cheerful. Listen up; I will only tell this once. Hundreds of years ago, there lived a Dragon."
War ravaged across majestic lands. With a flick of wrists and turns of the blade, scores of dragons fell, in the human barbarian's relentless pursuit for dominance. Dragon hunting became the number one sport for Lords, nobles, and Knights. Women fawned at the feet of murderers, praising them like Gods!
Why kings would call for the heads of such peaceful creatures remains a mystery. However, with each slaying, the butcher's fame and fortune mounted. Humans and their greed; murdered and maimed their way up through the ages, until only one creature remained.
They called him Scar. A fitting name as his eye was gouged out by a knight's lance before the old male ate him, armour and all. He devoured horses and livestock, a horde of hunters snuck up from behind. They severed three of the mighty creature's talons. He escaped with a careless tail flick. The creature sang a jaunty tune as his human foe ran around panicked, like ants far below the crag on which he perched. The wound to his claw nothing to him but a small sting. His smile devious; he dared those on the ground to chase him. Luminescent blue scales shone, like the reflection of the sun off the ocean swells in the morning light. With one talon, he motioned for the hunters to come and get him.
Accepting the dragon's invitation, they hunted him across the world with vengeance in their hearts. He destroyed their crops and decimated their homes, the memories of the atrocities performed on his mate and hatchling still vivid, spurring him to greater levels of destruction. He underestimated his foe.
Exhausted and alone he dived into the frozen waters of the southern seas. One last effort to preserve his life. Deeper still he swam, fleeing the reach of harpoons. A barbed spike tore through the scales of his tail cutting deep into the flesh. He screamed in silence a rush of life-giving air leaving him in a powerful burst of bubbles. His enemies dragged him back to the surface, bleeding, tired, and hopeless.
From the depths, dark shadows sped towards him. Panic's unbreakable grip seized him. Powerless to fight back; all his strength gone. A score of men with fishtails swam past him with unbelievable speed. Their spears held at the ready, sounding war cries from the backs of their throats. The ropes holding the harpoon severed in two. With an evil grin, the dragon spun in the water. The tide of battle turned.
Mer-people fought with vicious vitality without thought to save the last of the dragons. The beast launched his body to the wide deck. The blood-chilling screams of the sailors loud as they died. The scarred one's head raised high to survey the destruction around him. He laughed, his deep tones echoing. Something behind him caught his eye. A demon woman stood atop the bow, her long dark hair whipping in the breeze. Two large feathered wings wrapped around her body. Staring out of her pale angular face, a set of big almond-shaped blood-red eyes, smiling a fang-filled grin.
"An Arch, keeping secrets again Elisabeth!" The old one bowed his head with a laugh of his own.
Sweat beading on my brow and breathing heavily. I awoke with a start. I shivered, my skin was so cold.
"Not again!" With a curse, I pushed my hair out of my face, heart beating a mile a minute.
"Are you awake, Lisa?" My mother called through my door. I was the Disability carer to my sick mother. The job weighing heavily on my mind and body. Loving her was not enough anymore, not after so long a time. No other choice presented itself, I needed to get out. Soul sacrifice was not part of the deal I made to care for her. I felt as though I was slipping away, caught in a sea of never-ending torment.
"Yeah mum, I'm up," I called back. The material coiled around me not wanting to release its hold. I fought with my sheet for a few minutes. I fell off the bed and on to the cold cement after pitching too far to one side.
"Motherfu-." I cursed, slapping my palm on the hard floor. A rustle of movement came from the next room.
"Are you alright?" My mother stood in my doorway, in her nightdress. I peered up at my parent, my feet still wrapped in the sheet. Mum leaned on her walking stick, she only ever used her cane during an autoimmune flare.
"Yeah, I'm fine. What's with looking like a pimp?" I managed not to tear the sheet as I freed my legs. Mum's mouth twitched.
“I thought this made me look more sophisticated first thing in the morning." She stated. I chuckled standing up gingerly.
"Ah huh, all you need now is some gold bling and a leopard print fur coat. Danny can be your thug."
Mum shot me a mock-glare, turning she shuffled into the hall. The sound of her gurgling laughter echoing as she moved further through the house. The smile on my face fell, replaced with a grimace of pain. I turned to my mirror, lifting the side of my nightshirt. A large purple and black bruise shaped my ribs. I cursed under my breath when my door flung wide once more.
"Hey Lisa-, holy hell what happened?" My brother Daniel stood gaping. He closed my door after glancing over his shoulder, on the lookout for our mother.
"Nothing to worry about kiddo." I pulled my shirt down.
"Nothing my foot, this looks serious Lisa. You're not into anything bad, again are you?”
"Of course not. I slipped moving furniture. I'm fine." Danny nodded, his expression told me, he did not quite believe my explanation but he let subject rest. I swallowed my groan of relief as I followed him down the hallway and into the kitchen. No way in hell was I telling him the truth. The bruise appeared suspiciously after one of my weird dreams. The depressing mood threatened to engulf me, I shrugged it off heading for the aroma of coffee and wishing like hell, the washing machine was not going to give up the ghost today and we’d be spared another week without the electricity bill.
- Writer
