Let me preface by saying I didn’t mean to get cursed into a dragon.
It just sort of happened. When your father wages a surprise attack against a rival enchantress queen, curses are bound to occur.
All in all, I thought my father got off easily. Invade a neighboring country, get a cursed son.
“And what can I do for you, Tilli?” Dr. Miranda asked.
The gnome youth sat across the desk from her, a wisp of a girl with pink hair and delicate features. While she still had her gnomish dewdrop-shaped eyes and purple skin, she was currently the height of a human teenager
Nearby pines shiver, wind whipping through frost-encrusted needles. Wrapped in furs, I ignore the breeze. I’ve got more important things to worry about. Breath misting, I hold my bow ready.
In the distance, the arching mouth of a cave juts from the edge of a rocky, frostbitten foothill. A thick splatter of ice rims the rough-hewn edges.
Beings. The aimless complaint came unbidden to Egwae’s idling mind.
She withdrew her hand from a withering vine of translucent flame and closed her eyes. A deep breath filled her with alpine air. Earthly. Abrasive. Traces of her father’s realm emanated from the wall of vibrant, unruly foliage that loomed over her kneeling form,
You wrap me in colored blankets every night, muttering to yourself in an ancient tongue, the words falling from your lips like a desperate prayer, like a spell that never finds its mark. You are a mother at heart—just not my mother.
I watch you empty the basin at my window,
The harsh lights in the interrogation room stung my eyes as Detective Ironflutter smacked her police-issued wand against her palm and fluttered her wings to loom over me. “C’mon, Ivory. Just tell us where the fairy godmother’s wand is.”
I leaned back but forced my eyes to meet hers.
I’d only wanted to disappear for a time, not be forgotten forever.
I grip the chalk with every muscle in my tired fingers. It scrapes my plea against the pavement in a desperate shade of blue. Mom or Dad will notice me this time. I lean back and rub my sore knees.
Haleh hunched over her loom at the back of her parents’ rug shop, a knot tightening in her chest as her father tried to reason with their most difficult customer.
“It takes time, Amir… You’ve asked for a large rug…” Father’s voice wavered. “We need another month. Remember, good things are worth the wait.”
“He serves the devil, you know.”
Clay, the child they had captured three days prior, shifted on the bench as Captain Thomas Kalapser stared him down. “I know.” A slight breeze entered the open window of the cabin, catching the corners of the maps strewn upon the table behind him.
“Then why?”
The green sun of Lilen rose over the city of Shooshun. Its warm rays pierced a certain upper-story window of a certain stone house near the outermost edge of the city’s innermost ring. Soft green light shone on the face of a young Lilenite as she slept among piles of silky-soft furs.
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“Take this,” Mother says, her usually-shining blue eyes muted and sorrowful. “Remember, Lyskkia, you’re not alone. The Allfather is with you, and the land will fight for us as long as we fight for it.”
I accept the staff with both hands, the weight of the ancient, polished wood making this all-too-real.
Although Muir Woods had been closed for a year, I stole through the barricades in the dimness of dawn. No birds sang. No rustling. Only a presence.
As sun rays weaved through branches, so did the whispers. I caught human and woman on the wind’s tongue, and I prayed the forest would reveal what
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