Into Fire's Den

For Logan, my son (and dracologist).

Into Fire’s Den

It was snarling, growling as it sensed an unwelcomed presence enter its cave. Dephtselia crouched against a large boulder, hidden from sight. Her body was rigid, afraid to do anything that might better give that damned beast a signal to where she was. She hadn’t thought that she made any sound to alert the creature, but dragons were sensitive beasts. They had senses beyond even those of the Majylores.

Believing able to, she crept around the boulder, trying to see where the animal was. Doing so could risk her being seen. She could hear its breathing as it searched for her. It shouldn’t be able to smell her directly. The potion that Unilaris gave her should have dispersed her scent to be nothing more than an indirect, subtle hint of a scent, like distant flowers floating with a breeze. For all she knew, her scent could have still alerted the beast. There were so many more ways she could be found, though.

For a moment she wondered why she had accepted this, the deadliest of tasks. Surely there were other ways that they could find to cure the young princess’s ailment. Capturing a dragon’s egg seemed like suicide. Perhaps that was the point, she kept telling herself.

The kingdom had been cursed. Soon after, the princess fell desperately ill. Doctors, magicians, priest and clerics each tried their hand in curing her. Each had no success. Many lost their lives, each having promised success that was not given.

That was eight months ago, but the princess lived on, if only barely. A whisper of a life. Breathing only enough to show life. Nothing more. She wasn’t awake. She didn’t eat unless it was forced down to a point that her body had to choose between choking or swallowing. Sheets had to be cleaned, and the princess bathed several times a day as she would defecate on herself, unknowingly. Unable to get up from the spot. Unable to tell those when she needed to.

It was not a life fitting of a princess.

Were it not for love, the King would have killed her out of mercy.

When dragons’ nesting season began, a call