THE WITCH'S HEIR (The Witch's Crown #1)

For the entirety of my childhood life, I've heard the words, “Where's your father?” at least five hundred times. Hell if I knew! My mother never spoke of him. No one who ever claimed to know him offered anything but silence. And honestly? Good riddance. Any man who could vanish without looking back isn’t worthy of the word father. So the details of my birth remained a blank page, one I never bothered to fill. Better to change the subject, to swallow the question whole, than admit I knew absolutely nothing. I strode down the hallways of the castle, clad in my training gear, the guard my mother had assigned to me since I was fifteen trailed several steps behind me, I would've told him to get the f**k away from me like I had multiple others if I did not enjoy his company. "Ready to get your ass kicked again Quinn?" my voice dripped with challenge. Quinton Ashwood is tall and slender, with curly blonde hair and deep blue eyes. His mother is an old friend of my mother's. He had always dreamed of becoming a knight, so when his mother sent him here, he uttered not a word of complaint, and we've been best friends ever since. He chuckled, "Fortunately for you prince, you're not training with me today." I halted, his statement catching me off guard, Quinn and I always trained together. I turned to face him, "Who is it then?" He walked past me, the sound of his armor clinking as he walked. "You'll see." I followed behind him impatiently. We arrived at the training grounds after multiple failed attempts to coax the information as to who was training with me today out of him. The wide circular space that was the training grounds was empty, save for the racks of weapons that stood in the corners, spears, swords, bow and arrows. The afternoon sun shone brightly and the air was crisp, perfect for training. The only problem was, no one was here. I shot Quinn a glare as impatience bubbled inside me. "Where's this mystery person you were talking about?" Shortly after I asked, a roar cracked through the air and alarm buzzed through me. I looked around frantically as to where the sound came from. My gaze shifted to the sky and spotted something drawing close and fast. A dragon. It's scales shimmered obsidian in the sunlight, each one edged with glints of molten silver. It's wingspan stretched wide enough to eclipse the afternoon sun, casting the city below in sudden shade. Smoke curled from it's nostrils, and it's eyes shone crimson. It descended in a slow, circling spiral, wind churning in violent gusts around it, I raised a hand to protect myself from the dust. When it touched down, the ground trembled beneath it's weight, claws digging into the sand, tail lashing once without warning. It folded his wings and shifted, no longer dragon, but into it's human form. "Way to make an entrance my lord!" Quinn bellowed over my shoulder and clapped frantically. The man that now approached was at least six feet tall, with brown hair and eyes, he wore black armor fashioned to look like the scales of a dragon. I coughed slightly, whipping my hand in the air to clear the dust from my face. "Biggest understatement of the year." I said as I ran my fingers through my dark hair. He chuckled, the sound low and deep. "I had to look cool for my favorite nephew." I rolled my eyes even as a smile tugged at my lips. "Uncle Drazhan, always a pleasure.“ He closed the distance between us in a few short strides and enveloped me in a hug, tapping my back a few times. Drazhan Verdant is my mother's master of war and commander of her aerial legion, and unsurprisingly, he vied for her affections a few decades back before he was turned down. "How's home?" "You know, here and there. Now let's get to training!" He bellowed with an exciting tone. I unsheathed my sword from it's scabbard the faint hiss of metal hissed through the air. It was a gift from my mother when I turned nineteen last year. She called it chaos. "Watch how it's done little Quinn!" Drazhan said to my friend who now stood by the side, getting ready to watch. He picked up a sword from the array and weighed it. "It has been some time since I watched you train, let's see what you're made of champ." he taunted. I positioned myself in a wide stance and angled chaos, placing my good foot forward. Drazhan shifted his stance, weight evenly balanced, sword lowered at his side. "Come on, show me what you've got." I lunged, chaos arcing toward his left. He parried with ease, the sound of steel meeting steel rang out like a bell. His counter came quick, a jab meant to check my reflexes. I dodged, spinning out and using the momentum to come back around with a low swing. Blocked. Again. "Come on, yeah!" Quinn yelled from the sides, I had half the mind to tell him to shut it, but my mother taught me never to get distracted in a fight. We didn't actually spar though, she only told me a story about what happened to her when she got distracted during a sparring session with my uncle Amenadiel. “Don't think too much,” Drazhan said, his tone light, not unkind. “Or your feet will give you away before your blade ever does.” I took his words into account and changed my movements, making them unpredictable. He smirked. Our blades met again, the impact reverberating up my arms. I stepped into the next motion instinctively now, faster, cleaner. He raised a brow, parried, and nodded his approval. “Better,” he said. “trust your instincts.” We moved in a steady rhythm. Strike, block, parry, breath, like a dance choreographed by fire and discipline. He corrected my footwork mid-duel with a gentle nudge of his boot, forced me to react faster by adjusting the angle of his blade just enough to make me sweat. And when I finally landed a clean hit to his shoulder, he didn’t flinch. “Well struck,” he said. “grip's a little floppy, but you’re improving.” I rolled my eyes and stepped back, panting. “You’re like sparring a statue. A smug, unmovable statue.” Drazhan chuckled low in his chest. “Statues don’t breathe fire.” I froze. “You wouldn’t.” He took a deep breath. “Uncle Drazhan—” A puff of smoke curled from his mouth in warning, and I barely had time to dodge before a small, playful burst of fire singed the ground near my feet. “Bloody hell! That could’ve cooked me!” “Then you’d learn to move faster.” I shook my head, laughing despite myself. “You’re insufferable.” “And you’re getting better,” he replied, his voice quieter now. “You just don’t see it yet.” My smile faltered a little. Not because of doubt, because I believed him. And that made all the difference. ~ Drazhan was shown to his chambers, while I went to have breakfast in the outer courtyard with Quinn. Food was served on a large wooden table and it made my mouth water. My muscles were a little sore from training, not because I wasn't used to it, but because my uncle has f*****g dragon strength. Quinn sat across from me, munching on a chicken sandwich while I took my liberties with the different pastries before me and drank sweet honied tea. "Lord Drazhan is great isn't he?" Quinn asked, his mouth still full with his sandwich. "Yeah," I said, "he really put the word T in training." Quinn chuckled lightly so he doesn't choke on his food. "That was the worst joke I've ever heard." I shrugged. "I try," "What are you doing after now?" Quinn wiped the sides of his mouth with a napkin, that was the most decent act I've seen him perform all week. "My sister is coming over for a visit, so I'll probably go and wait for her." Dull pain gripped my heart, though the emotion did not show on my face. I know how long I lay in bed wishing i had siblings who I could train with or ride around with. I didn't fault my mother for not marrying and having other children, because where I lacked in siblings, was made up for in cousins. My uncle Acrisius and his wife Kaida had four children, and Uncle Amenadiel and his wife Alice had two, they alone were a handful, so it didn't hurt much, because they were still my family. "What about you?" Quinn asked, dragging me from my thoughts. I downed the last of my tea, "I have magic lessons with Amara." "How's that been going so far?" I shrugged. "It's going, she's refused to teach me offensive magic, so I've been forced to teach myself." Even that hasn't been going so great. "What does the queen have to say about it?" "I haven't seen my mother in weeks Quinn." I said flatly. He knew how I felt about it, but thankfully didn't push the matter. Without another word, we both stood up and headed back into the castle.