“Lind!” Loren called again.
“Haedria’s markings!” Kae’s hand flew to her waist, but she carried neither blades nor her bow. The dragon’s roars drowned out the sound of her voice, and as Lind began to thrash, Kae ducked back behind the wall. “Loren, get away from him!” she screamed.
The princess of Aldoran held her hands out, attempting to calm the dragon. She spoke soothing words to him in a gentle voice, but the dragon only continued to thrash. Lind beat the ground with his forelegs, his tail whipping about behind him. The markings only continued to spread, passing over his blue and gold scales like viscous ink.
The markings pulsed with a coal-like glow, and Loren knew he was in pain. And it was all Haedria’s doing.
A boiling rage began to bubble up inside the princess. She remembered this feeling before, this sense of pride and insult and desire to crush those who have gotten in her way. Dragon magic or no, this rage was her’s. Haedria hurt her, she hurt Kae and Cassendir, and Ma’trii. Those were slights never to be forgiven. But when the queen set her sights — set her magic onto her dragon — things were different.
Perhaps it was the dragon’s rage and hurt transferring itself to a human host, one of the descendants of the Lady Ylfair, the Dragonheart. Perhaps the royal line of Aldoran were not meant to be merely protected by a dragon, but to protect it, and to serve it. Now that Haedria’s foreign magic dared to seep into Lind, it was if a lock had been opened.
The princess’s eyes turned a fiercer gold than before. Her irises became reptilian slits, mirroring the rampaging dragon’s. Slowly and with a fierce snarl on her lips, the princess turned back towards the Firestone Keep. The markings that ran across the stone floor and spilled onto the dragon were easily traced back up the hallway, burning and crackling with tongues of flame on the floor as they went. The queen was there, in the middle of the hall, kneeling on the stone with both hands pressed to the floor.
Queen Haedria lifted her head. Her blood red hair was plastered to her face with sweat, and her eyes bore a look of madness and greed. The markings on her pale skin pulsed erratically, burning as if the woman herself was made of firestone. She saw the princess standing by the dragon, and saw she was unarmed. There was nowhere to hide weapons in the prisoner’s roughspun tunic, she knew. And she was the Fourth Daughter, her magic was strong enough to chain even a dragon! What had she to fear?
Princess Loren took a step towards Haedria. Then another. Her footsteps rang confidently on the Keep’s stone floor. The ash that coated the stone like a thick carpet parted before the princess from the winds whipped by the dragon’s wings. The torches that hung bolted to the walls of the keep were blown out as the dragon roared, thrashing and flailing, its legs pinned to the ground from Haedria’s magic chaining it to her keep.
Loren’s eyes glowed furiously as she approached. As she drew closer, Haedria began to stand. The madness that ran through her blood, stretching as far back as the founding of her kingdom, shone through her eyes, wide and rabid. Her smile was wide as the queen raised her arms, beckoning the princess towards her, a gesture in a mockery of welcome.
“Yes, that’s it.” Queen Haedria purred. “Come to me, my darling dragon. Together, we will rule over all with this, our new pet. Wouldn’t that be simply marvelous?”
The mage markings burned into Loren’s skin crackled fiercely as Haedria poured more of her magic into the princess, bidding her to come to her, to become subservient, to bow before her and worship at her feet. The princess did not bow. She showed no pain despite the markings burning, tongues of flame leaping from them and flittering across her skin. The closer the princess drew to the queen, the quicker her steps became. Haedria’s grin stretched wider.
Loren crossed the last few meters of the hallway at a run. Her golden eyes flashed, and she pulled her arm back, hand clenched into a fist. She roared a challenge, matching the ferocity of the blue and gold dragon just outside, and threw the punch with all her might. Her fist connected into the queen’s gut, and the red haired woman reeled back unprepared.
Haedria gasped in pain, her hand reaching for her abdomen. When she looked back up, her eyes met another fist flying towards her face.
Kae emerged from the cover of the door to find that the princess of Aldoran had pinned the queen of Sagna to the ground, pummeling her with a flurry of blows, screaming as tears fell down her face, her knuckles getting torn and bloody.
Lind’s pained roaring began to cease. The markings that had been steadily spreading over his scaled hide began to fade or recede down into the floor, shrinking away and retreating to their master. The dragon ceased his flapping and turned his large head towards the Keep.
The princess was screaming.
Her words were incoherent, the sound tumbling from her lips in a mad attempt to process her emotions. Anguish, despair, hatred, and pain poured out of her, lending their strength to the blows that cracked against the queen’s jaw and cheeks, the sharp, angular bones cutting into the princess’s fists from the force. Her thoughts flashed before her eyes, faster than she could comprehend them. All she knew was the force of emotion, blowing out of her in a storm.
Loren thought of her mother, dying slowly from poison. She thought of Gaturr, the old king’s skin ripped from his body and thrown at her
