A Witch's Word

A DRAGON’S CRY

Despite all the frustration that Edith had felt before she retired for the evening, sleep found her a willing prisoner as she climbed into her bed and stretched out the aches in her body. Each joint that popped seemed to be a triumphant noise for all she had achieved in the day. Lured by the promises of deep dreams and plans yet to be realised, her eyes were already heavy when she drifted into a heavy slumber.

Meadows of purple heather brushed against her skin, and Edith recognised her home. Not the castle where her every step was judged, but her home where her loved ones were waiting for her. Whispers of possibilities ran away from her as she dashed across the meadows, eager to catch one and manifest it into reality. Each time her fingers would brush against the solution to the food shortages, it would run away like a childish sprite reluctant to help so freely. It mattered little, for she was happy to rest on the bed of purple flowers and gaze at the pink hues in the sky that contrasted so extremely with the red and black scorches that scarred the heavens of her married home. The fragile mutterings of the unreachable good ideas that danced around her stopped in their joyful meanderings, causing Edith to sit up and look at them. Cries of utter pain filled the meadow, and the worst possible thoughts filled her head. Could this be a vision of what would befall her people? Surely not, for Edith’s visions were only presented to her when she was awake. It had always been so. A longing howl of gargantuan grief ripped through the edges of her escape from reality. She awoke blurry eyed, but keen as she chased the source of the sorrowful screams to her bedroom window.

Calling to the God that had abandoned her, an arresting azure amphithere dragon screamed at the moon with betrayal laced in every note of her endless cries. The contrast of her scales was juxtaposed with the colour of the night to such an extent that it seemed as if the bereft beast was glowing. Illuminous with the mourning that was bleeding from her as the light ebbed away from her dimming her soul for all to see. The dragon curled her pointed tail towards her body and for a frightening moment Edith wondered if the beautiful beast was planning to impale herself with her own arrowed weapon. Instead, she twisted in the sky and crashed against the window of a part of the castle that she had yet to explore.

Carefully, Edith crept out of her room, the click of the latch sounding disproportionately loud in the unnerving silence of the corridors. The screams from the dragon had diminished to more heartbreaking sobs, and it was this sound that she followed to the furthest point of the castle. Signs of disuse were odd next to the magnificence of this section of the castle. It seemed more impressive than the halls they dined in now. The framed paintings were huge against the wall, and each had an image of the current royal family. Her husband smiling freely as a toddler in ways she had never seen him do as an adult. Next to him was a slightly older girl. The missing princess. Nokon’s suspicion that the witches were involved in her disappearance was the reason her grandmother had died at his orders, and why Sourcero had refused to help try and find their daughter when asked in times of peace. Proudly gazing at her children, in direct defiance to the aloof position of her husband was the queen. A bigger question was yet to be discovered. Maggie had told her that the rumour was she had died when her daughter couldn’t be recovered. If that were so, why wouldn’t Nokon have declared his loss to the other leaders? This would surely have been better than the mystery or the whisper of guilt. A mad king who killed his wife was not a reputation that inspired fear, but disgust.

The door frame was almost opaque with thick cobwebs. Edith reached out her hand and tore at the silk barrier, but even as her fingers reached past the threshold, the feeling of anguish spread up her arm like a slow-moving malady. Darkness made it difficult to see, as the dragon blocked the moonlight from the window, but Edith wasn’t looking at the room in its present condition. She couldn’t see the overturned crib, or the torn sheets on the miniature beds. Her eyes were cast back to a night more than twenty years ago that sent ripples of tragedy through every kingdom and stole something from everyone in every territory.

The fire had been burning in the grate that evening, the evening the princess was taken. Edith could hear the comforting crackle of warmth as it lured two small infants into a cosy sleep. Amusingly, she could see her husband as a child, his mouth slightly open and the singular snore that escaped him on occasion. Someone had wrapped him tightly in his blanket, so tightly the outline of his small body could be seen. He had slept very similarly on their wedding night. Beneath the window was another bed. Locks of black curly hair tumbled across the pillow and how this daughter was finding any comfort in her twisted position was perplexing to Edith. Even though the memory wasn’t a corporal experience for her, the temptation to tuck her little ankle back into bed was overwhelming. Just as she was about to step forward in the hope that Princess Kaiza would turn, Edith was alarmed to see that the girl was staring at her. Such a thing wasn’t possible, but it was alarming, nevertheless. That was when she heard the noise. The noise Kaiza had already latched on to the very night she was taken. With an understanding that exceeded her years, she ran to her brother’s bed and gently woke him.

“We are playing a game. Father has invented it for me, and it is important you don’t ruin my chances. Stay under your bed and, no matter what you hear, little brother don’t come out! I want to win. I need your help to win, OK? Promise me you’ll stay quiet.”

Anticipation and excitement lit up Cadmus’ trusting face. He nodded and slid beneath the frame of his bed, while his sister pulled down the covers to conceal his hiding place. Turning to the fireplace, she picked up one of the pokers and stuck it into the flame before she held it like a bat. She had seen the children who lived outside the castle hold thick sticks like this when they played ball games. The laughter of the men grew louder, and she knew it wasn’t the guards, for when they laughed, they didn’t chill Kaiza to the bones.

The door hadn’t been locked, yet still two people dressed in black with a red cloth to cover their faces, kicked it with unnecessary force. It thudded open hanging from a single hinge. Momentarily surprised, Kaiza saw her opportunity and thrust the poker into the face of the person closest to her. The screams that followed made it obvious that it was a male, and as she pulled her weapon away, a portion of his skin came with it. Knowing time was running out, she swung at the leg of the next person, but the shock had only made her assailant more prepared. Pulling the poker from her hand, he threw the entire thing into the fire.

“This must be him!” A woman’s voice called out.

A strange mix of fear and relief filled the room and Edith realised that this was the emotion of the young princess. They thought she was her brother, and this was the only comfort she had, as the woman lifted her then kicked her to the ground. Pinning her to the floor, she took a rope from her hip and tied the princess limbs against her body. The burnt-faced man, proceeded to then tie the infant to his partner.

“To the nursery!” A roar from the floor below bellowed up the stairs.

A moment of hope glimmered in the eyes of Princess Kaiza as she recognised her father’s voice.

The two intruders leapt from the window. A height so dangerous that only death could be a certainty. Edith rushed to the window. Soaring through the sky was the blue dragon that Edith had traced to this room. Only in this memory a blond woman screamed in fury as she saw one of her children plummet towards the ground. Just as the ground was waiting to crush them, a black smoke billowed beneath them and the trio disappeared into the thick abyss.

Screaming with loss, Edith looked at the queen and her dragon and saw the change in them when they realised, they had lost their child. Behind her, a younger-looking Nokon ran into the room, staring at his wife, who was crumbling from grief on the back of her dragon. Flipping the furniture, his heart was soothed for a second when he saw his son hiding under his bed. It was a fleeting emotion, for as his youngest child smiled, his eldest had been kidnapped and there was no clue as to where she had gone.

“Why didn’t you do anything!” he screamed at his son, who just looked confused, as his angry father lifted him from his shirt collar of his sleeping gown.

Sweating in the now cold room, Edith could almost understand why Nokon had blamed Sourcero for being involved. The cloud looked mystical, summoned by a unique signature of magic, seen by a distraught mother, one that Edith didn’t recognise. Neither had seen the assassins who had entered their home, the uniform indicative of their identity. She wondered if this ignorance could make the slaughter of her people more understandable, but the last memory of her grandmother only made her hate Nokon, and his court, more.

Stepping out of the room, she closed the door on the memory of that night that resulted in a continuation of a war that affected everyone. Once back in her room, she brushed the back of her finger against the chest of her glass bird, animating it immediately. A message for her mother that was urgently written.

“The Abominations took Princess Kaiza. I have seen it.”

The bird flittered away, and the dragon’s sobs accompanied her in her dreams.