Brimstone

I stood there tall against the mountain breeze at the look off point as my curls of red brushed against my cheek. Taking in the valley and distance mountain views before me with my arms spread out wide as a pair of wings. My mother called me a daredevil as most people have at least a rational fear of heights but not me as I faced the openness of the blue sky before me I felt alive. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath of the crisp air, and pretended I was flying like the hawk down wind. Flowing with the wind as it whipped around me making feel weightless. I would often dream at night of flying over these mountains, through the trees, and even hovering above the river letting my finger tips caress the surface of the water leaving ripples in their wake. My mother would laugh when I told her things like that saying my spirit was too wild and untame for this world. She was right. I have always felt out of place with the people in this small mountain town we live in. We were town pariahs anyways as the widowed mother and her young daughter living alone in the woods. I laid back on the large rock soaking in the sunlight warmth like a soft kiss upon my cheeks. I stayed there for awhile with my eyes closed and my hands behind my head as I lay there daydreaming. Time to get back down the mountain came sooner than I wished, but I needed to head home. I jumped up silently. Then froze as I felt like I had eyes on me. I surveyed the trees and land around me only to find I was still alone. My hair stood on end with the gut feeling that I wasn't alone. I cautiously made my way back down the trail without incident. It was the beginning of May and the mountainside was alive with growth and flowers. I gathered a handful of wild blue phlox flowers to give to my mother when I got home. I wasn't far off, and it was no time before I stumbled upon the clearing that the small stone cottage was settled in. There she sat in a rocker on the front porch her strawberry hair flowing down her shoulders. Her smile widened when she saw me appear. She wore an old worn-out pair of jeans and a periwinkle colored top that brought out the sparkling blue in her eyes. Her eyes always held a sadness to them. My father had died when I was very little and she has never really recovered from the heartbreak of losing the love of her life. She was a beautiful woman and never lacked suitors, but she didn't give anyone the time of day. They would never be him. They could never compare to my father in her eyes. She wasn't a normal mother full of joy. Every smile was haunted with that bittersweet sadness that he wasn't here to experience it with her. He wasn't here to see his daughter grow, laugh, and explore. I didn't know my own father and that hurt her as well. He was like a distant stranger to me just out of reach. When I was a small child she told me a strange bedtime story which still lingers in my mind. There was nothing like it in any book or fairy tale I'd ever found. "Once upon a time when dragons and knights were real there was a kingdom of magnificent creatures. The rulers of this magical kingdom were the dragons. They were full of grandeur and fierce confidence, but they were arrogant and stubborn too. They only valued strength and pure bloodlines. Those that didn't fit into their view of that were mistreated and trampled upon. The dragon king was especially cruel, and when his only son fell for a halfblood weakling of a woman rejected by her own family he was infuriated. He demanded that his son reject her, but the prince refused to give up on his love. Dragons are shifters they have a human half and a dragon half intertwined together and their hearts are tied to their one and only love. Someone to be cherished above all others, yet the leaders of old have forgotten that. They only value strength and what a good match can bring to their bloodline. The Dragon Prince was built strong and taller than any normal man. He towered in his height above others, but he was kind and gentle. He had fair snow white skin and jet black hair of untameable curls. His eyes were soft and loving a deep emerald color that he shared with his dragon. His Dragon was massive and black as night. He would not rule as his father before him had. He would be a fair and just king, and that was not what his family was interested in. His love was a broken soul who had been mistreated and forsaken her entire life. She didn't feel like she deserved the love of the prince, but he told her she deserved more than she ever thought possible. He was much different than she had imagined. He choose her above everything else and the ran away together to make a life together in peace. Eventually they had a beautiful princess of their own with unruly curls of scarlet and eyes like her father. The runaway prince was happier than he had ever been in his life. He was the ever doting father to his wild daughter, and told his love she had given him the world when she was born. It seemed like their life was perfect, but you can only runaway from your past for so long. They came for him. He had to protect his love and his daughter. He lured the dangers away from his family, but he was betrayed and killed. As his dragon fell from the sky his love released an earpiercing scream as her heart was engulfed by the pain of her loss. A flame that burnt so hot it turned her heart to a black stone never to love another. She prayed for the day to come that she could join her love in the here after, but she knew she had to honor him the only way she knew how. She had to raise their daughter and kept her safe. She dreamed of the day their daughter would avenge them. That she would right the wrongs of their world with her fiery spirit and her future dragon." I remember telling my mother that that was a sad story and fairy tales have happy endings. She told me life is harsh and we don't always get the happy ending we wish for. She said she wouldn't be doing me any favors in life by filling my head with lies to grow up disappointed. She told me I had a heart full of fire and that I needed to be strong enough to never let the coldness of the world around me blow out my flame. I remembered that as I walked up to her on the porch. She tried to get up to greet me, but faltered in her attempt. I rushed to help her. "Mom are you alright?" I asked concerned. "I'm fine. Come inside my little flame." She smiled. I helped her inside to the small table. She had been getting weaker and weaker as I came more of age. Today was my nineteenth birthday and she was barely able to walk. I had no idea what was causing it and she refused to go to a doctor no matter how much I begged. She said she knew what was wrong with her. She didn't need some quack trying to explain it to her. After getting her seated comfortably at the table she reached up her hand and lightly stroked my cheek as she stared into my eyes. She settled on a soft smile then turned to the room her eyes landing on a small cake topped with berries and flowers. "Happy Birthday Eileen," she said softly.