This is the first section of something that I have been working on for a while now, any advice will help. Hope you enjoy. The Story Of Eldaro, the First Kingdom Eldaro was the first of the Great seven Kingdoms to be created. Lovel de Genville, an ordinary man of no power, found the peasants of this land being tormented by Draygons, the ancient Magicke creatures of the night. The Draygons would take livestock, kill every first born and cause grief throughout the kingdom. Because of this, Lovel de Genville and an army of peasants wiped out every single Draygon within the lands. The legend goes that he, himself, slaughtered over one hundred Draygons in one day. Over the years the Draygon race had died out, or so the Kingdoms had thought. But whilst the Kingdoms were growing, expanding, the Draygons were planning. At the very beginning of King Mortimer of Craydor’s reign his first born son was murdered by the Draygons and ever since, the seven Kingdoms and the Draygons had been at war. Oreylle Helan Bonvalet of Melaine I stood in the forest, staring back at the mighty creature before me. His black body shone in contrast to the dark green of his surroundings with light shining over his still muscles. Every now and then he shifted his weight, slightly shaking his head as he did. The eyes of the creature never left mine, an unending black that reached out to me, almost speaking. Air was visible around the tip of his mouth, hinting the slight drop of temperature. He bowed his head, a long, intimate gesture that seemed so mystical, and whinnied gently. His soft mane blew slightly in a quieted breeze, as if nature wanted the full beauty of the animal to be witnessed, and it was. Not once, for those few minutes I had the pleasure of such an unspoken bond with a magnificent creature, did I tear my eyes away. Many may have kept away from the wild horse, as it is unpredictable and a potential danger, yet I felt no fear. If anything, he had instilled a deep calm within me that could only be described as wonder at nature and the splendour it can craft. I felt that I had spent hours alone with this creature when in true reality it may have only been a few minutes. He turned to leave, braking the spell that I was under and I too, turned to leave, but not until he had left my sight. I picked up my basket and looked up toward the sky. A break in the great canopy of green showed a vast liquid blue that shone down to the ground, casting shadows on the floor. Smiling, I noticed a Blue Robin sat in one of the trees to my right. It cocked its head at me, expectantly. I picked up my basket, recalling the fact that I had had a reason to come into the forest, rather to marvel at the magnificence it held. Continuing down the muddy track, I sang. My voice rang throughout the forest, causing a disturbance in the former solitude. I sang loud, and I was sure the birds flew to my song, as if a dance. I shut my eyes and I was there too, soaring through the soft clouds and feeling the wind flow through my hair, all the while, singing. Just before noon I returned to the town of Melaine, smiling at my neighbours as I walked past, my basket swinging in my left hand, wildflowers I had picked in my right. It was the first day of spring and the sun seemed to glow everywhere. On the faces of the townspeople, on the crops, the window panes, even the Royal Guard who stood at the West Gate. A child ran past, laughing, like a tinkle. Passing the market, the crowd was bustling and I had to push my way through, trying to reach my home. It stood two streets away from the castle, a small shack with a collapsed roof and dirtied walls, but it was my home where I had grown up. As I pushed on the wooden door I heard my mother stumbling around in the back room. She was the town’s seamstress. I am proud to say that my mother sewed the most beautiful gowns throughout the town. She had the gift since her fifteenth birthday, when my grandmother gave her something to sew. I smiled at the memory of her telling me this story and looked around, noticing the fraying carpets and worn floor and smiled. Everything seemed beautiful today. “Oreylle? Is that you? Did you bring the Cray Seeds?” asked my mother as she shuffled into the room. “Of course, I wouldn’t forget!” I replied, instantly kissing her on the cheek. “Well, most of the time you are in your own little world,” she said, a look of seriousness on her face. Suddenly she broke out into a smile, “You are not going to find a husband if your head is in the clouds!” “Mother!” I sighed, exasperated. She then turned swiftly and headed back to her workroom. Left alone in the main room I thought over what she said. A husband? I had just turned twenty. I was not a girl who would ever fawn over a man. Suddenly interrupting my thoughts the door knocked. I walked towards the door, still picturing me being carried by some handsome prince down the aisle, and pulled the door handle. Stood outside was Adamar, my best friend since birth. “Sorry but I do not speak to Draygons,” I said and hastily shut the door. From outside I heard a hearty laugh. “Open the door, Miss Bonvalet!” he shouted in mock anger. I, again, opened the door to Adamar’s smiling face. “And how are you this fine Spring afternoon?” he asked. I pushed him out of the doorway, which ended with him landing on the ground. “You really are going to struggle finding a husband,” he said, imitating my mother’s voice. I hit him. “Come on, I am starving, shall we head to the market and...” I was cut off midsentence by the royal trumpet. We looked at each other in confusion. “I thought the prince was not returning for another week?” Adamar asked no-one in particular. “The Outer Lands were too tough on him,” I pointed out. Adamar laughed, but he had lost all interest in what I was saying, he was eager to know what was happening. And I too, was curious. We half-walked half-ran to were the trumpet had sounded from and pushed past the thickening crowd trying to look over heads. As soon as we turned the corner to the Town square the trumpet sound came again and three horses road through. The rider in front was recognizable as Prince Enjorran of Eldaro, the second was in the robes of Melaine’s Knights and the third was a mystery. I nudged Adamar. “Who is that?” “I have no clue,” he replied, just about as bewildered as everybody else standing in the town square. It was a war time; Draygons were everywhere so not many strangers entered our town if the Guard could help it. “Come,” said Adamar, “shall we walk towards the Castle? They may have an announcement.” I nodded in agreement. “This is beginning to turn into an interesting day,” I sang. “And it wouldn’t have been if you just had to spend in with me?” asked Adamar, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. I pushed him. “Race you!” I shouted, laughing as I began to run. I looked up at Adamar in triumph. “I win again,” I stated. He bent down and breathed deeply. “Remind me why I always accept challenges from you?” he asked, but my mind was somewhere else. By somewhere else, I mean fixed on the door to the castle, it was the King. “Adamar, look!” I shouted, urgency in my voice. The King was walking towards the Prince and his guest. He smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling as he did. He strode over to them, showing power in his steps. He grabbed his son and pulled him into a tight embrace and then moved away. The King was known for his sense of insensitivity, this was... new. The stranger offered his hand to the King and gladly he took it, shaking it whole heartedly. He then pulled them both into the castle and the doors were closed. “What was that about?” I heard Adamar whisper into my ear. I shrugged. Adamar and I spent a few hours walking around the village, discussing anything and everything from the next moves in the war to the next move that Adamar can play through the courting of the Baker’s daughter. When we stopped on the outskirts of town we saw Roheisa, a servant who works in the castle, on a stroll. “Roheisa!” I shouted, trying to get her attention. She turned around, taking a moment to see us then approached with a grin on her face. “Oreylle, Adamar! My favourite couple!” she teased. “We are not a couple,” we stated, blandly. We had often been told how a good couple we would make, yet Adamar is the closest thing I had to a brother, if anything, the thought made me feel ill. “I suppose you are interested as to who our guest at the Castle is?” she asked, a glint of mischievousness in her eye. She did not wait for our reply. That was the thing about Roheisa, she was a gossip, I remember my mother used to call her the town crier. “Well, the story goes that the Prince was cornered by ten Draygons, they were using Magicke to cause horrid hallucinations of his Mother’s death, twisting it, when Sir Drew de Courseilles of Praymain came in and massacred them all. After they all lay slain on the ground he collapsed, due to the exhaustion the Magicke had caused him. The Prince awoke to find around him ten dead Draygons, their bodies still warm, and a young Knight, unconscious, lying admidst the death. The Prince carried Sir Drew to the outer Kingdoms, found a Guard to escort them and then they rode back,” she rushed, the excitement of the story slipping of her tongue. Adamar looked at her suspiciously. “Oh really? And how can one ‘young knight’ take on ten Draygons?” “Nobody knows, the Prince is taking him on a Royal Hunt tomorrow in the woods, maybe we shall find out then,” she replied wholeheartedly, then her face changed, “I have to get back, the Lady will be waiting.” She turned on her heels and started the trek back to the town. “Maybe I will see you later,” she called. Adamar sighed, a long, sad sigh. “What?” I asked, exasperation evident in my voice. “It’s a nice story, but how do we know it is true, it is kitchen talk,” he answered. “Oh I am sorry,” I replied, my brow furrowing, “I did not realize the talk of the kitchen staff was below you, come,” I pushed him, “Let’s head back to town.” A smile ebbed onto his lips. After two hours of being in the market I began to feel tired. I walked back to my house alone as Adamar had said something about the Baker’s daughter, but I hadn’t listened. I loved walking alone through the town, seeing all the different people at work, and just the general breath I got. The feeling of the cobble stones under my feet was comforting, I knew these streets. Whenever I had a problem I would walk by myself, either through the woods, past the market, or down by the castle, whichever one the walk would take my mind of things. The dew soaked my bare feet as I strolled through the forest. The air was sweet, the scent of morning tingling my nose. The sun had risen early that day, a sign of the approaching summer. I dragged my hand through a soft bush as I walked past, smiling. The sky was so clear, as if from an exotic paradise, creating an illusion that I was beyond the kingdoms, exploring. The slightly damp mud clung to my feet, sometimes creating a satisfying squelch as I transferred my weight from one foot to the other. I lifted my head and spied a doe. She looked straight at me and I felt so... inferior. I rose my hand towards her face even though she was across the clearing as if to say, “I will not harm you.” She seemed to understand and cautiously, she stepped into the clearing. The animal had so much grace and elegance, I knew that I had to touch her. I moved forward, slowly as not to scare her, and she did not move, apparently unfazed by my presence. I crept forward, one step at a time until I was an arm’s length away. Finally I took one last look into her eyes, as if to ask if what I was about to do was alright, and then raised my hand. Just as I was about to lay my palm on her fur she turned, only a few seconds later did I realize that there was three people watching us, one holding a crossbow. Before I could do anything to stop it, he fired. The doe’s body rippled, as if the hit had ripped the doe’s soul, and she slid to the ground, all the while that bright, animal spark in her eyes fading. I turned to face the murderer. “You killed her,” I whispered. If I had spoken any louder than that, I knew that my voice would have cracked. A horrid clenching feeling had gripped my stomach that can only be described as utter despair. The man who shot the bow cocked his head to the side, as if I was a mere interest to him. “Yes, but it was just an animal,” he replied. Although he acted tough in front of the other two, who one of them had been recognized as the Prince by a small part of my brain, he did not look at me when he spoke. He felt guilt. “You people care nothing of this world, do you?” I spat, more of an accusation than a question. He looked at his feet. The Prince stepped forward. “You, child, what is your name?” he asked, a sharpness in his voice. “Oreylle Alegra Bonvalet, sire,” I answered, quickly curtseying. “Well, Miss Bonvalet, you will be cautious as to whom you speak, I do not take it lightly when my guests are insulted by townsfolk.” As he spoke he subconsciously rubbed the red ruby ring he wore. “I do apologize, sire,” I lied. Why can’t he leave me? “It is not I that deserves your apology, it is Sir Drew that...” “Well, he owes an apology to the doe,” I stated, then instantly regretted it. My hand flew to my mouth in an attempt to stop it making any more stupid retorts. Sir Drew looked faintly amused. “I have had enough of your sass, child, a night in the dungeons should be a lesson to keep your mouth shut,” bellowed the Prince. His face was hardened, as if carved of stone. “Prince Enjorran, does it have to come to that...” Sir Drew tried to interject. “No, this is the point in ruling a kingdom, Sir Drew, if people such as these do not get taught a lesson, who knows what nonsense may happen, another rebellion?” said the Prince, his mind was obviously made up. I looked at the Knight through my lashes and nodded, hopefully he understood my thank you. “Guard, seize her.” I took one last look of longing at the doe, her body lying limp at the ground, her eyes still, unstaring. Just as I was being towed away by the guard I saw Sir Drew walk up to the doe and admire her, then, ever so slowly he closed her eyes. I could not stop smiling even after I had been thrown in the dungeons. He felt guilt. I sat in the cold cell, the straw rubbing my muddy feet, my empty plate by the door, the remnants of my dinner still stained on it. My smile had long since worn off. What had I been thinking? I was cold and tired, yet no matter how hard I tried I could not fall asleep. I believed that if sleep came then this time would go quicker. Judging by the light from the high window in my cell it was around five ‘o’ clock when I heard a tapping on the door. I sat up, it was the most interesting thing to happen in hours. “Hello?” I asked. “Orellye, I must say, you never cease to amaze me,” came a muffled reply from outside the door. “Adamar!” I cheered. I got up from the bed I had been sitting on and ran towards the door. I looked through the hole in the door and grinned. “What did you think you were doing?” he asked, less happy to see me then I was to see him. I instantly tore the grin off of my face. “Did my mother send you here to tell me off?” I asked, an accusatory twinge in my voice. “Your mother does not know, I told her you were staying with Joesseph, the Blacksmith’s apprentice,” he replied, smiling. I shook my head. “When I get out of here I will hurt you,” I warned, then burst into fits of laughter. Suddenly he looked around at somebody I could not see. “I have to go,” he said apologetically. “Thanks for cheering me up, not so much about the excuse,” he smiled and hurried off, leaving me alone. At least I thought that I was. “Why did she mean so much to you?” whispered a voice. “Who is that?” I asked, backing away from the door. A figure stepped into the view from the cell door window. It was Sir Drew. This was the first time I had a real look at him. His shaggy brown hair reached almost to the back of his neck, curling at the end it small wisps. His shoulders were sat back, in a very proud stance, along with him holding his head so high. A true noble. His eyes were different though. They shone with a colour of green that could only be described as beautiful. They seemed to hold everything that he had ever felt and experienced, but mainly, his skin was young, his cheekbones prominent, yet his eyes were so old. He repeated his question, genuine curiosity etched onto his face. “She meant nothing to me at all. I had only seen her for a few moments before she was killed, but those few moments we shared I learnt about what is out there,” I gestured with my hands, pointing out of my cell window, “How can we expect to live fully if we appreciate nothing?” I whispered. He cocked his head again, and smiled. “What?” I asked, ferociously. He bit his lip, trying not to laugh, this only angered me more. “If you are going to say something, I am ready, you self-centred noble,” I exclaimed. Again, my hand flew to my mouth. This time he actually chortled. At me. “You are so... passionate,” he stated. I blinked. I had insulted him and he... compliments me? At least I think it was a compliment. We stood in silence for a few moments, the solitude of my cell gripping me. Without another word he spun on his heel and left. I turned to the back wall of my cell and sank down, feeling the rough hay itch against my bare feet. “Oreylle, we will have to leave this house,” said my mother, holding the most expensive muslin she owns to her chest. “But mother...” “We have no money to pay for the rent, the landlord is going to kick us out within a week!” cried my mother. I looked around desperately. There had to be a solution. “The castle! The King is having a ball for the safe return of his son and to honour the Knight who saved him, they must need serving girls!” I exclaimed. My mother looked at me, pride in her eyes. “What would I do without my beautiful girl?” she asked, pulling me to her chest. “I haven’t got the job yet,” I reminded her, teasingly, but embraced her back, “I will go there this lunch and see if they have any jobs.” “Yes,” she said, simply, and released me. Later that day I went to the castle, found Roheisa, and quizzed her about any jobs. She spoke to the main servant and got me a job as a server. I was to carry drinks to guests, easy. I walked through the grand doors, the sense of beauty gripping me at the sight of the spinning couples. Golden chandeliers shimmered above the flurry of the party, wavering light over the many dancers sweeping in and out. The air was filled with a buzz of conversation and music, each as loud as the other. A kaleidoscope of coloured gowns spun before me, causing me to have an intake of breath before I stepped forth in the room. Three musicians sat in the far corner, playing a happy jig. I walked slowly, occasionally stopping when a guest took a drink from the plate I was carrying. I took time to smile at each guest I passed, most returned it, yet others did ignore me. The women looked especially beautifully, with dresses of every shade and their hair in intricate knots, I was disappointed with my own appearance. There was not much I could do with a simple dress and apron, but I did the best I could to look presentable, I spun my hair into a curling bun at the nape of my neck. I walked around the ball, serving drinks and smiling, for almost two hours until I allowed myself a break. I paused in the corner of the room, out of the way. I saw Sir Drew, he was walking towards me. He stood beside me, neither of us said anything. The awkward silence dragged on until something snapped in him and we began conversation. “The Prince says I can dance with whomever I like in this room,” he stated, staring out into the couples. “Lucky you,” I replied, wondering what this had to do with me. “You are in this room.” It clicked in my head, he wanted to dance with me, how peculiar. “I am not here to dance, Sir, I am here to serve drinks,” I kindly rejected. My mind was convincing me not to go yet every muscle in my body was aching with longing to join him on the dance floor. My mind was thinking of one hundred reasons why it was a bad idea, my heart wished it wasn’t thinking. “Surely they can manage without you for one dance?” he asked, persisting, all the while never taking his eyes of the whirling dancers. “The Prince wouldn’t like it...” I started. “Then the Prince would have to answer to me,” he remarked, a strength in his voice I had not heard before. He turned his eyes on mine. Before I realized what I was doing I put down the plate and took his callused hand. “You wish to dance slow, or quick?” he asked, a gleam in his eye. I whispered, “I dance fast.” As Sir Drew led me to the floor I could feel many eyes on me, yet I ignored them. Although an outcast I had never felt so at home. He stood me in the centre of the floor and strutted towards the musicians. He whispered in their ear and suddenly they played a fast country jig that was known throughout the Kingdoms. Almost mechanically the couples got into two lines, the men facing the women and they began to move. I placed my feet around in time, never taking my eyes of off Sir Drew’s. Sparks were growing between us. The faster he spun me around the more it grew. I yearned to be closer to him. He grabbed my hands and pulled me viscously into a spin and we continued like that for the first half of the dance. A ferocious whirlwind of dance and desire, twisting through the other couples. Then came the part in the dance where the couples were swapped. The women move to the men on their right. I spun to my next partner and found myself looking into one of the Knight’s eyes. “I must say,” he panted, “you may not be a courtier, but you definitely are the most beautiful here.” I smiled, keeping my feet moving all the while. “Thank you,” I replied, puffing for breath. “Do not let anybody tell you that you do not belong dancing in the ballroom.” I nodded, sincerely touched by his kindness. And then I left him to find my next partner. I looked up to smile, whilst moving my feet and hips when I realized I was dancing with the Prince. “Do not think, wench, that just because Sir Drew will dance with you, that I will.” He pushed me away from him. I stumbled, but kept my balance. I was astounded by his rudeness, and hurt, but mostly angered. My fists clenched and the music stopped. All of the couples stopped whirling and turned to face the Prince and I. I opened my mouth to answer back, to curse him, yet it would make no difference that he was better than I was. Instead I apologized, and then I walked past him towards the exit. I didn’t stop walking, even when Sir Drew grabbed my arm, he did not need to see my tears. The next day was the warmest it had been for the whole year so I slipped off to the forest. I hadn’t given my mother a chance to ask how much I got paid last night; I doubt I will get anything. I needed to sit on the soft pine needles and breathe deeply. I needed to listen to the harmony of the forest. I needed to be alone. The walk to the forest was hard. As townsfolk passed me they whispered. These people I had grown up with were now spreading rumours. I felt more of an outcast then I ever had before. Upon reaching the forest a great weight was lifted off my chest. The pain of last night was forgotten as I ran through the trees, over logs and through the thick brush. I was home. As I got deeper into the forest, the colours became more vivid and I was mesmerized. I sat down on a tree stump, and listened to the quiet. Everything was so pure and untouched by creatures this far out, yet I did not feel like an intruder. “Oreylle?” I spun to find the disturber of the quiet. “Sir Drew.” I whispered, his name catching in my throat. “Last night...” he began. “I do not wish to talk of it, I came into to the forest for solitude, so please, leave me,” I said, turning from him. Instead of leaving he came and sat on the floor next to the tree stump I was perched on. “Do you consider ever not being immature?” I asked, frustrated. “No.” He replied, paused, then continued, “please stop talking, you are ruining the peace for me.” I smiled. In one swift movement he rolled onto his knees, facing me. “I have never met anybody who cares for everything and nothing,” he declared. My brow furrowed. “What does that mean?” I asked. His face portrayed the look of bewilderment that I was feeling. “It means,” he whispered, “I find you bewitching.” My breath caught in my throat. He continued, “I do not know you, so why do I feel as if we have been connected for years? That my whole life has been leading to the moment I shot that deer? Why do I feel like I love you, when I do not know anything about you?” When he finished his voice was barely audible. “I don’t know what to say,” I replied. I wanted to say a lot of things, but nothing came out of my mouth. “If you feel me to be imprudent and ridiculous tell me now do not...” He began. I interrupted him with my kiss. Suddenly I felt transported to somewhere safe and warm. This man, my mind whispered to me, is your other half. He pushed against me, hard, as if trying to imprint me on his body. It seemed to work, we were not separate beings but one. Every part of me felt love for this stranger. I pulled away. Because that was all who he was to me, a stranger. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I pushed away from him and ran deeper into the forest. As I sprinted through the forest I was torn apart. Every fibre of my being wished to return to him but there was something stopping me, something deep. I felt as if I would never stop running until I came across a large clearing, I must have passed through it about a thousand times but today something was different. Three soldiers were lying in the middle, dark pools of blood spreading slowly. I wretched. Looking around and being certain I was not followed I stepped into the clearing. The first man I came to looked around my age, the fright etched onto his stone face, the sword still protruding from his stomach. I grabbed the hilt and pulled it roughly from him. Wiping it on the ground and gripping it tightly I moved to the next soldier, half of his head had caved in, as if hit with a heavy club, the insides of his skull on show, again I wretched. Almost methodically I moved onto the last soldier. He looked as if he was sleeping, so I pretended he was. A snap of a twig caught my attention behind me and I swung the sword around. Sir Drew looked positively horrified, so I pulled the edge away from his throat. I dropped the sword and it clattered to the ground. “Are you alright?” He enquired. I just stared at him. “We must get back to the town,” he warned, going to grab my hand. I squeezed it weakly and he began to pull me through the forest. I tried to speak, but whenever I opened my mouth I began to shiver violently, the only thing that moved were my feet, and I don’t think they would have worked unless Sir Drew was not pulling me. Towards the end of the forest we picked up our pace and burst out, panting. Sir Drew looked at me with concern, but I ignored it and began sprinting to Adamar’s house. “Where are you going?” Sir Drew shouted. I stopped mid-sprint and without turning I replied. “I cannot go to the castle, you go, please, give me a while.” He did not reply. Or, I did not wait to see if he did. It took no less than a few moments to reach Adamar’s house, and as soon as I reached it I banged on the door so hard I was sure to break it down. Adamar pushed open the door. “What?” He shouted, angrily, then saw that I was sobbing on his doorstep, “Oreylle, whatever is the matter? Come inside.” He helped me and sat me on his bed, looking at me expectantly. “The War has reached our border, Adamar.” After about five minutes of explanation his expression started to change. A look of worry began to ebb onto his face. “You are sure they were dead?” he asked, whispering. “One had a sword plunged in his stomach, Adamar, that looked pretty dead to me,” I retorted, paused, then continued, “I’m sorry, I know it’s a shock.” He stood, and started to pace. “The Draygons have never come this close before,” he told himself as if to reassure. “Yes, they have only attacked the surrounding villages in the outer regions of the Kingdom, we thought we were safe.” He stopped moving and turned to face me. Moving towards me he whispered, “We have to leave here.” He placed his hands on my cheeks. “Get your mother, Oreylle, we are leaving town tonight and we...” A pounding on the door interrupted him. I jumped in fear, grabbing his arm as I did. Adamar moved in front of me, protectively, and spoke loudly, “Come in.” Five soldiers burst into the cluttered room and started shouting all at once. The largest one strode towards me and grabbed my arms. Adamar was pushed to the side, he was screaming something, but I could not hear it over the blood rushing through my ears. As the soldier pulled me from the house I struggled, kicking and scratching anything that I found, intending to escape. It wasn’t long until one knocked me out with the hilt of their sword. I fell to the ground, unconscious. I opened my eyes to the same cell I had been put in not long ago, a dull ache pounding in my head. Pushing myself up from the ground to a sitting position I sighed. Why was I in here? I rubbed my temple. A slight tap came on the door and I stiffened. “Who is it?” I whispered, whilst turning to the cell door. I began to crawl towards it. “It is me.” Sir Drew’s voice floated through the cell door and caused more pain than it ought to have done. “Why am I in here?” I wondered, maybe more to myself than to him, yet he replied. “I came to tell the Prince about the three soldiers and now he is convinced you murdered them, I argued your case believe me, I...” “Sir Drew, please...” I could not listen to him anymore, I had too much to think of. Nevertheless he carried on. “...tried to make him see that you had stumbled upon the bodies, just like me, but then he asked why we were together in the woods and I could not lie...” “You told the Prince about that fling?” I shouted, I stood and looked him dead in the eye through the hatch in the door. The hurt in his eyes evident, yet he brushed it off. “What else should I have done?” He took a step away from the door, surprised by my ferocity. He looked down gravely, unable to keep eye contact. “And he believes me to be under a spell, you are going to be hung for being a Draygon.” With the last word his voice cracked and he moved his hand to the wall, as if to stable himself. I turned my thoughts to myself. “When I am to die?” I asked, calmly, as if asking about the weather. “Tomorrow, in front of the whole town,” he whispered. I nodded, thanking that I did not have to wait. “You must do one thing for me, Sir Drew de Courseilles of Praymain,” he nodded, moving closer to the cell door, “You must not let my mother come to the hanging.” His unblinking eyes stared into mine. In any other life this would had been perfect. I had known nothing of this man yet I felt as if we had been paired long before our births. I shut my eyes. “Stay with me?” I whimpered, sounding like a scared child. He put his hand up to the space in the door and ran his thumb over my lips. I opened my eyes, willing to imprint this man’s image on my memory forever, however long that may be. His lips connected with mine for only a short period of time as the open space was only small and uncomfortable for both parties, but all the same, it meant so much. He slid down the door and we sat either side. We spoke, we got to learn about each other before it was too late. It wasn’t until I opened my eyes that I realized I had fallen asleep. “Sir Drew?” I cried, the anxiety I did not feel yesterday creeping up on me. My stomach knotted. “I am here, but something is happening, I’ve heard shouting, I will go up to the main hall.” I wanted to make him stay with me, but half of me wanted him to see me as brave, so I watched him go. As I stood all alone in the cell I realized the weight of all of this. I would never be able to sing with the birds again, no longer feel the slick mud under my toes and never feel the brush of wind flow over my skin. I thought I might cry, but my eyes were dry. He returned, somewhat five minutes later, looking distressed. “What?” I asked, anxious of news, squinting to make out his shape in the dank corridor. “The Draygons have attacked the village, many are in the castle,” he puffed. “And the good news?” I asked, hopeful. He smiled, a tight smile, but a smile nonetheless and replied, “within all the hussle and bussle of an invasion, I managed to steal the key to your cell!” He pulled out an metallic key and thrust it into the lock. The sound of the door being unlocked was beautiful to my ears, and I bounded out of the cell. “Now, how are we going to get out of the castle without being dreadfully killed?” he whispered, half fright and half unexplained excitement buzzing through him. “The servant’s tunnels, of course.” Instantly we set off, I took the lead, and we crept through the halls. We found the weapons room, and stole two swords, at first Sir Drew looked at me disbelievingly, then smiled, proudly. We exited the weapons room nervously, this was closer to the staircase leading up to the main section of the castle, so we had to be careful. The halls were silent and undisturbed, whereas up above we heard the sound of war, the clashing of swords and the screams of men. I took Sir Drew’s hand as we crept along the empty halls. I paused just before the main staircase and looked at him. I shook off death’s grasp and gripped my sword tightly, breathing slow. In my head I counted, three, two, one. On the last count I moved my head to look up the staircase in trepidation, Sir Drew’s hand on the small of my back, reassuring me the whole time. I smiled, and turned my head back to his, “Nobody there,” I mouthed. We tip-toed across the bottom of the staircase. As soon as we were behind the opposite wall we began to run for our lives. The corridor was short and not before long, I found the door to the servants quarters from where the servants tunnels began. Pushing the door open cautiously, I began to think of my mother and Adamar. Where were they? Were they alive? My thoughts were interrupted by a whimpering. Hiding underneath some cloth was a small maiden of about fourteen, tear stains caressing her cheek and a look of pure fear stiffening her body. I recognized her from the market but could not recall her name. “Hello, my name is Oreylle and this is Drew,” I spoke softly, as if speaking to a frightened animal, “we are going to get you out of here.” She pushed herself up from her cloth fort and moved towards me, trembling all the while. As I took her hand, I thought how much resemblance she had with that doe I met in the woods. She was fragile and naturally frightened, yet she seemed to have a inner strength, I spoke, “Come, love, we will take care of you, we promise.” She nodded and placed her hand in mine. Sir Drew strode towards the only other door in the room, the one leading to the tunnels and pulled it open. He motioned for us to go first. I was going to remark how courteous he was, but thought it not the right time. The time in the tunnels was some of the most frightening moments I can recollect. As we travelled along the pitch black cave it felt as if I was walking to my execution. The freezing cold earth moulded to my bare feet, and sank up through my body, forcing an inner ice over my heart. My only thought was to get these two people out alive. After however many minutes we spent in the tunnels, though it felt like hours, it began to brighten. “We must be near the end,” whispered Sir Drew, not willing to break the eerie silence. He was right, we turned one corner and we were at the end. The door was old and wooden, the rust of the handle browning and centuries old. I looked at it with mixed feelings, horror and happiness swirling around me. The three of us stood, just staring, until something broke in Sir Drew and he pushed it open. What I thought was bright sunlight at first burned my eyes after being in darkness, but when I stepped out of the tunnels I realized it was not the morning sun, but fire. The town was on fire. I saw the doe’s hand fly to her mouth in astonishment, I just gripped her other hand harder. I could not see my house from that side of the castle, so my worry grew. Sir Drew pulled my eyes away from the mass destruction of my home with a shout. “WE HAVE TO GET OUT NOW!” Without another warning I started to run, the doe’s hand still in my own. We sprinted behind the castle, running as fast and as silently as we could. We had not been seen yet. My mind was numb from thoughts, only survival instinct spurred my feet to go pounding one after the other of the overgrown grass. “We need to get into the forest,” I panted. Sir Drew stopped running, so did I. “But that is where the Draygons will be coming from,” Sir Drew whispered, exasperated. The doe remained silent. “It’s the closest and quickest route to the Second Kingdom,” I whispered furiously back. He looked up. “High heavens, do not tell me that you had planned to go that way? That’s suicide!” he cried. “We need to get word out to the other Kingdoms!” I cried back. He moved forward placing his hands on my face. “Very gallant, Oreylle, but I would rather risk the Seven Kingdoms then see you dead.” I pushed him off. “Then you are a fool.” I turned my back on him. Angry at everything. “Oreylle,” whispered the doe. I twisted to look at her face. “It’s alright, my love,” I replied, to reassure her or myself, I was not sure. “No, Oreylle, look!” she turned across the meadow, where three people were stood, staring at us. Two boys and one woman. The boys were dressed in similar green tunics, with leaves woven into their long braided hair, the taller out of the two clutched a longsword by his side, the smaller held a wooden mace. The woman wore a short dress, clinging tightly to her waist, her aubern hair fell to her ankles. In her hand she clasped a bow, she pulled it up, aiming for us. I started to scream and Sir Drew began to push me. The Draygon fired her arrow. It flew past me and hit the young girl in the throat. She died quickly. I had promised to save her. I told her that it was going to be alright. That should have been me. I wanted to stay, I had to stay with the body. I fell to the ground next to her lifeless corpse and drank in her pretty features. Sir Drew grabbed my arms and yanked hard. “RUN!” he screamed, so I did. That was the moment when something snapped inside me, that girl had not slaughtered any Draygons, she was not part of the war. I stopped running. Instead, I turned to the Draygons who were watching me. When they saw that I had stopped running, they looked confused. “Caen faiy hertarn?” said the tallest man, in a strange tongue, his accent sounding exotic. “THAT GIRL HAD NO REASON TO DIE!” I screamed, my rage uncontrollable. Sir Drew was pulling at my arms again, yet this time I was immovable. The female Draygon, the murderer stepped forward and spoke, in my language words that would never be forgotten. “Maybe one day, female, you will learn that the world has larger things to attend to then the death of a child,” my breath caught in my throat. She continued, “Now run, we love it when you run.” She smiled maliciously. “It gives you hope,” added the smaller Draygon, cruel laughter ringing in his voice. And that time, I took the advice. I was running blindly, tears blocking my sight. The smoke from the fire kept catching in my throat but I pushed on. When we had reached the edge of the town, where the forest began I stopped and turned to look back at my burning town. “Mother, Adamar, I’m sorry, I will find you, I promise. But I must send word,” I said. I knelt on to the cold ground, and rested my head on the moist earth. “I promise.”

Wow!

Yay, me too. I think I know an English Language School that would benefit from that. (compliment)

Updated 1 December 2013 (22:49)

Thank you, what do you mean an English Language School would benefit?

Updated 3 January 2014 (14:27)

The part I read was amazing. I'll sure read the rest when I have time!

Hi Oreylle, we need some help with Compilation 3 and maybe you can help us with the story. Also everybody else is welcome to help! https://www.radiorivendell.com/forum/38/4267/

Wonderfully done.