Chapter 1: Meet your Maker

78 10 1
                                    


   The tip of Dragons Mountain where the Dragon Lords Manor stood was surrounded by far too many stuck-up pampered "Royals." I was beginning to wonder if these people even had a deadly bone to them. All they seemed to care about was their fabrics, jewels, and dancing. Dragons to my understanding were supposed to be feared, hot-headed driven creatures or at least that was what I was told as a small fae girl. Perhaps giving them a human form overtook that entirely... I had a habit of looking for things to hate when I don't want to be somewhere and I did not want to be here.

   "You have been a difficult man to find," I said to Ash as I walked into his office. Which was full of books, odd paintings of dragons and the smell of smoke. One of the pictures on his dark wall seemed to catch my eye, a woman with hair as dark as coal, coiled in curls down her back as she sat atop of a dragon. The dragon's beauty matched his rider, as if they were born from the same moonlight. The pointed-eared, horned faes piercing blue eyes matched mine almost exactly. I noticed a beautiful sapphire she wore on her chest, a charm. The dragon's grey stone eyes drifted on the canvas like a dream, his gold and black freckled wings glistening under a blood moon.

   "That's Lorelei and I, it was an honor being her wings." There was still so much I didn't know about Ash or Dragons Mountain. Before the curse was lifted we figured Court was the only civilization left but I guess it was ignorant to think such a thing.

   "She didn't have wings?" I frowned as Ash came up beside me, I had just thought they were too hard to paint or something. Our wings are all unique, our wings had different shapes, shades and colors. Each faes wings also contained markings that could never be copied.

   "No one did. Not until dragons came, after we were deemed extinct the Fae were finally given wings of their own," he explained. "To think once all you had were measly horns and ridiculous-looking ears," he said giving me a grin. Today he wore a black tunic that matched the darkness of his hair paired with brown trousers and boots. The sun gleamed through the panels of his study onto his golden skin, he was beautiful in a misplaced way. The way his eyes watched everything nerved me and the way he barely smiled drove a shiver down my spine.

   I touched my ears frowning at the picture, her nose was longer and wide. I didn't mean to sound vain but although we looked similar, my beauty compared to hers was undeniable, unless the painter perhaps hated her. I wondered what Rone looked like, was his violet eyes just as intense? His dark silver hair just as soft? In that lifetime his name was Vero, but that life is gone. "Pointed ears are seen as beautiful and majestic," I argued.

   "Not here," Ash said tilting his head. It was almost sickening the way his grey eyes misted over softly with shades of blue, the way his dark black hair curled above his brow and never moved. Fae have always taken pride in their beauty and now we didn't even measure to the beauty in Dragons Mountain. "Now what is it that you need?"

   "What is your purpose for having me here? I have not learned one thing about your lands, I have not helped a soul," I complained rustling with my new dress. Their clothing choice was very... reviling. I was given Scraps of white cut silk dresses, woven gold at the trims of most of them.  The fashion for women here did not contain fancy ball gowns and corsets like back in court but more of silk and lace that hugged your every curve. Leaving nothing to the imagination. I almost felt nude without my tunic and cloak. "I've ventured into your entire town, and not one person needs a thing, actually I'm starting to think I'm unwanted."

   "I was merely letting you settle in," he shrugged grabbing his red cane, which wasn't just any cane but a sword. I wasn't jealous of many people in my life but when it came to that sword, one could imply I was. "People are still getting used to there even being a creator, most have forgotten you remember? We're celebrating the dance of the dead tomorrow night in the gardens, you will come. I'm sure you'd like to prove you're not some crazy bat shit woman with too much power for her own good."

Petals in the WindWhere stories live. Discover now