The Hidden Sister | Book 1 of the Dragon Queen Series

۵ Chapter 3.5 ۵

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Chapter 3.5

betrayal

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⌇The Rose Palace⌇

The sun was slowly arising in the sky, changing the cool shades of the blue and purple that made up the evening, into warm pinks and yellows that pushed the moons back into their beds.

The balcony the Fire Lord's daughter pried from was taller than any other building in the capital, the spiral staircase that led up to her room was the longest in the castle, with more than three hundred steps directing to it.

Though a hassle, she liked it that way, not many people bothered her and she could see the entire city in one glance; she often thought about when she had to use a spyglass to see further into other places beyond the giant, stone wall that acted as a barrier to the world outside of the city.

Her father told her that people beyond the wall wanted to hurt her and her family, he recited her terrible tales about lords and ladies of the court being murdered in cold blood as soon as they stepped free from its protective arms.

Though this scared her and sent shivers down her spine, she had also been informed that people were afraid of fire, because fire can kill people if engulfed; she had also heard that people were frightened of dragons...and she had three of them.

Dragons were fictional creatures to most, after the last dragon died a hundred years ago. Seldom would they know they would rise once more.

Elia stared at her palm. Just yesterday she had burned a woman alive. She had no idea how such a flame had emerged from her skin, but it didn't hurt, nor burn. There was no mark, or scar, no inclination there ever would be.

After a day of flying the skies of the Heartlands within the bounds of Anguis, Elia locked herself away in her tower. All evening and night she practised away, building up the rage inside of her and applying it to her hands.

Sometimes it worked, others a stinking smell of burning flesh and black smoke emerged. But she was not defeated.

She had mastered small flames by this point, however. But she could not recreate the multitude of yesterday.

This thought triggered her to snap her fingers together and generate a small, candle-like flame on the tip of her index finger; she watched the colours swirl into each other and around her hand like they were dancing - she never felt the heat they emitted, she longed to know what the sensation was like and could only wonder what pain it caused to the person being burned. The face of the Dragon's End woman etched into her mind.

Being the daughter of a Fire Lord meant that she had seen one or two people burnt for their crimes; once, she watched intently as a young man was burned against a wooden log on a pyre for trying to slit the King's throat.

The young man was once a cupbearer of his, from a traitorous neighbouring castle called Draydon Keep - where many soldiers were trained - and so, after that, many were burned by guilty association. Men were lined up like the marks on a chart. Though somewhat resolved, the men from Draydon Keep were still considered a threat.

Not only people could be burned, so could animals and trees and plants...all except dragons, her dragons could not endure death by fire.

When she was thirteen, her father ordered the Jade Forest to be charred; the emerald trees and bountiful flowers were left a barren mess in a deserted land, the nymphs, the faeries and all the other kinds of forest-dwelling creatures had to find shelter elsewhere.

Back then, she felt bad about condemning the forest, she wondered how many innocent lives she and her people had taken, how many children were left orphaned and how many unknowing animals had been slaughtered.

Her father made short work of her guilt. He assured her they were doing the right thing by destroying their homes as they planned to steal and murder her newly hatched dragons for magical experimentation, and so, taking her father's word, she quickly threw it into the back of her mind, never to be seen or thought of again.

A short and curt knock at her door cut her reminiscence short; she snarled but put on a face of positivity as she welcomed whomever it was outside. "Come in." She said stiffly, turning her body around slightly to frontal view the person entering; she quickly glanced over to the horizon watch as Ashwing soared into the sunrise, before turning her attention back.

The door slowly pushed open, creating a creaking noise at the hinges, and a tall, lean man stepped inside. He wore a red cloak and burgundy breaches, with a dark hood with the symbol of the Fire Lord on the temple. He bowed slightly upon entry, and with a flick of his wrist he took out a scroll of parchment. He held it out in front of him, it had a rare symbol on the front in green ink.

The daughter frowned and edged forward to retrieve the parchment. Slowly turning it in her hand, she viewed the sigil. It was a divine, holding her hands up above her head, a ball of light in between them, her arms were covered in vines; this was the sigil of the Wiccan. The healers of the capitol.

She furrowed her brows and glanced up at the messenger; with a respectful bow, he left the room, closing the creaking door behind him.

Elia waited for him to leave before tearing into the scroll, she thought perhaps it had news of who had murdered her dragon, Embereye.

Elia still punished herself for letting her father use him as a weapon - considering he wasn't full-grown yet, and that he was a much smaller breed than his brothers and sister, he could easily die from wounds if not handled with extreme care.

But somebody had killed him as an act of malice, his head had been torn off. He hadn't been healed, he had been murdered.

Elia ripped into the scroll and studied each word carefully. It wasn't about Embereye, nor news on who had murdered him. Her eyes wavered through the scroll and she took seat on a stool beside her;

"The Jade lives."

Elia growled under her breath at the simplicity of the message before throwing in into the embers with burning anger and confusion, she watched it intensely trickle away before heading out of the room and scurrying down the stairs.

The daughter reached the courtyard, she glanced through the archways and surveyed the gardens, she saw no evidence of the healers, her mind returned to the scroll and the Wicca's sigil.

The gardens were lit up in the morning sunrise, the rays of light bounced off of the healing pool and the lush flowers swayed gently in the soft wind; vines were climbing the building and grass was pushing its way though the crevices in the paved floor.

A small, green and white frog hopped from one lily-pad to the next before leaping into the water, creating a small splash and gentle ripples leading to Elia's feet.

She stared across the pool and studied the water, wondering what it felt like to bathe in The Pool of Sanctity; she had seen many warrior struck down with fateful injuries brought to the pool and given their life back after being submerged by its water - she had watched many-a-time their wounds heal before her very eyes.

Though this act was magical and miraculous, there was one thing The Pool of Sanctity could not heal.

"-Princess." A voice called out, Elia didn't turn to face her, instead, she sat to her knees and gently trailed her finger through the water, feeling a slight singing pain in the tip of her finger.

The Wiccan came closer and curtseyed respectively, before leaning down to the Princess and joining her by the pool. "You know," she began, glancing at Elia's captivating opal eyes, "The Pool of Sanctity cannot cure burn victims of their wounds." She smiled gently when the Princess looked up with intrigue, "Yes, rather strange isn't it, considering we have a Fire Lord as our King. Or perhaps, it's ironic that he had one placed in his walls."

Elia frowned slightly, still trailing her finger through the purity, "Yes, very strange." She agreed absentmindedly, watching the water closely.

The young nymph had long, dark hair that reached past her hips, it was decorated with vines and sticks that dazzled her beauty.

Her skin was fair, yet the freckles that coated her face tanned the surrounding area, and her eyes, though like black orbs, sprouted with curiosity; the deer-like ears sticking out from her chestnut hair were accompanied by a speckled bob-tail and a button-nose, with short antlers poking out of the top of her head.

"There was once one in the Jade Forest that could cure anything, I used to train in healing right beside it." She said with a glimmer of sadness. Her hands reached around her body, shielding her from the harsh sunlight and memories.

Elia paused for a moment, she had tried to forget about the incident with the Jade Forest, after all five years had passed; she took a deep breath and stood to her feet.

Quickly, the Wiccan followed her movements and faced her; she was a lot smaller in size than the Princess, yet stared up to her proudly.

"I received a scroll this morning, from your people." Elia stated, staring deep into the black abyss that was the Nymph's eyes.

The young nymph nodded, "Yes," she smiled gently, "the other Wiccas and I hoped you would get the message sooner." She added with a sly smirk, her demeanour changing completely from shy and quiet, to intimidating and sinister.

Elia frowned, she gulped down her coming fear and attempted to stand tall. "What have you heard?" She demanded.

The forest-dwelling woman smirked again, this time it seemed malicious. "Many people deem dragons as a threat to the unknown," she chuckled lightly, "they are dark, evil creatures that should've stayed dead. The dark beast destroyed my homeland...and so did it's royal rider." She stared grimly into Elia's eyes.

"So we killed it when it wandered into our midst, and we will not stop until they're all dead." As soon as the Wiccan finished her sentence, another appeared from the flora by the other end of the pool, she too was smirking.

Elia stared up at the Wiccan's dark eyes that held disastrous intentions as they stared back. The young women suddenly revealed sharp sickles in each of their hands. Elia stepped back, her eyes narrow and fearful, clearly outnumbered.

"Why did you do this?" Elia bellowed in utter fright and seething anger, she lifted a finger and forced flames to push out of her skin as another Wiccan emerged from the bushes. "You murdered him. What did I ever do to deserve this?"

"We warned you in the letter," the first began, holding the knife up to Elia's head, "we knew that you would come, wanting knowledge, so we got ready. We've been getting ready for five years. We had our chance, and we took it. You can't kill us all without your precious beasts. The Jade lives!"

"Your dragon was a fickle thing, frail and weak, unlike his brothers and sister. He might have lived, sure, but he was no match for a black ice sword." Another stated with a sinister giggle, gesturing to the bloodied sword one Wicca held in her hand.

The first smirked again, "Don't take this too personally," she leaned closer, "we wanted revenge in your father who gave the order, but he's just too hard of a target...so we took the next best thing - his little girl, his prized gem and possession. The sight of your bleeding, mangled body should spur him to come running. And at long last we rid the filthy beasts from this world once more."

Without another warning, the Wiccan pounced, stabbing her knife into Elia's flesh, piercing her skin and ripping downwards; the attack should have been fateful.

Elia cried out in pain and dropped to the floor; after a moment, she looked down at it and took it in the palm of her hand whilst it was still attached to the young woman, suddenly setting the knife ablaze. She dragged it out of her own body, seething in pain and anger.

Something had snapped inside her. Something inhuman. Something immortal.

Suddenly, she pulled herself to her feet and the Wiccas watched in fright as her eyes turned bright red, glowing without pupils. The whites of her eyes pushed out completely. Red was all that remained.

The nymph attached to the end of the blade widened her eyes in horror and began trying to stab again and again; with a scream, Elia flung her aside by the knife and yelled in pain at the top of her lungs.

Suddenly, Elyssor crashed through the courtyard and broke the pillars holding up the stone canopy. He roared louder than she'd ever heard.

The Wiccas dropped their weapons and were forced to hold the palms of their hands to cover their ears.

She suddenly became aware that she wanted to know what it felt like to have her dragon kill in full form, she wanted to know what it looked like to see two enemies burned to death by her dragon fire. She stormed towards the other two Wicca in the courtyard, whom dropped their weapons and began begging for their lives.

Families, livelihoods, possessions. Elia cared not for their stories, her mind was set on burning them alive for what they did to her dragon, and for what they intended on doing to her and her family.

"Ramalocenara." She whispered. Dragon fyre.

Elyssor raised his head, and with a quick flick, a bright orange flame emerged at the back of his throat.

They turned to run as their second option, within seconds Elia jumped upon dragon-back; they screamed and flurried in anguish as their bodies became engulfed with his flames, forcing them to the floor.

Elia watched intently as they burned, their howling becoming quieter as their life-forces faded away, their squirming bodies blackening like tar.

The bells rang and guards were heard shouting in the distance. Elia heard another screech, and another, and glanced up to see Blushfyre and Ashwing approaching fast.

Obtaining a strange sensation of joy from their deaths, Elia turned back to the first Wiccan, whom was against the ground, watching in terror as her fellow healers burned into the dirt. "Your precious pool can't heal them and you can't save them, but now, you can join them." Elia said blandly.

"Wait!" She screamed and buckled under her own fear, she held up her arms and shook with every last breath she took. "You need to know this, before you kill me, you must know!" She added, shuddering as Elia pushed her dragon forwards. "Your father only wanted to burn the Jade Forest because the Spirit Masters would not bow to him! Nobody wanted him dead! Please, please believe me! I never wanted to kill your dragon, it was them, the Spirit Masters! They made me!" She screamed, hoping that the Princess would share mercy.

Elia thought of no such thing, she no longer knew what the word 'mercy' meant, Elyssor grabbed the Wiccan's in his jaws and flung her to the ground. As she fell, she attempted to crawl away, only to be engulfed in flames.

It took a while for her to finally die, as the flames slowly and painfully burned her from the inside out. Elia glanced up at her children, coming so eagerly to join the m******e.

She stroked Elyssor's scales. Her eyes slowly returned to their normal opal colour and she started crying against his back. The blood that pooled from her wound dropped down his scales. 

The alarm bells in the south tower began ringing, signalling a fire in the Wicca Garden Courtyard, and Elia lay atop Elyssor, wrapping her arms around his neck, bleeding from her chest, surrounded by fire and the burning corpses of the Wiccas who tried to murder her.

Blushfyre and Ashwing roared above her. Protectively guarding her from above, hovering in the wind.

It wasn't long before the guards emerged from the castles interior, they almost couldn't comprehend the horrific sight ahead of them.

Blood, fire, and bodies lay scattered across the courtyard's grounds. One of them even had to vomit into the corner. The Lord Commander of the King's Guard took one look at his associate before grimacing and heading forward to reach the Princess. The man beside him also took a turn when noticing the two dragons flapping their wings above her head.

The Lord Commander hurried forward and held out a hand, and took the Princess into his own arms. She climbed down from the dragon's wing and fell into him.

Yonder, the bellowing of the Fire Lord resonated through the halls; he reached the vicinity wearing his long, royal red robes, draping to the floor. As he scanned the area, his eyes mirrored the flames dancing through the air, burning the flora into ash and smithereens.

With a lift of his hands, his fingers began sucking inches upon inches of smoke through his fingertips. The guards had seen this before, they had encountered his extracting powers several times, yet each time was as captivating as the last.

Once the fire had been completely extinguished, the King took his daughter from the guard's arms and cradled her into him, rocking her back and forth gently. He gazed down into her wet eyes, wiping off of her singeing tears and smirking deviously; his daughter managed to wriggle out a frown with a confused expression.

"It was them, father. They did it. They murdered him, I had to do it. I had to use them." She cried.

He finally revealed the source of his sly features, with one extra look into her eyes he at long last spoke,

"You're ready at last, my child."