Mortana walked towards the docks, thinking once more of her cake and how amazing it would taste. The anticipation of the competition filled her with excitement, and she hummed to herself all the way there.
Her bright mood, however, dissolved as she saw the empty docks. They were completely deserted, a few small boats still moored to the pier but nothing more significant than that. She glanced around, confused.
Mortana was not late; the docks should have been a bustle of activity. Where was everyone?
Suddenly, a voice called out from behind her, and she spun around.
“They’re gone.”
It was an old man leaning on a walking stick and holding a bundle of ropes in his hands.
“The larger ships left earlier this morning. Heard a rumor a storm was coming through soon. They left to find a more protected dock in one of the big cities. They will be back tomorrow.”
Mortana’s heart sank as she realized a small connection of floating rocks and bridges that led from their island to the other islands was her only option.
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
Watching him walk away, she weighed her options; missing the competition entirely or taking an uncertain route with no guarantee of arriving in time. After some thought, Mortana decided to take the risk and immediately set off down the path toward the connection of small floating rocks.
Mortana stood at the edge of the island, gazing out at the sky bridges that stretched ahead of her. They were made from a delicate web of rope and wood connecting small floating pieces of rock, forming a path across the sky between the larger islands. Even from here, she could make out the faint outlines of distant islands hidden in the mist.
She took a deep breath and stepped out onto the bridge. It swayed slightly beneath her feet, and she had to concentrate on keeping her balance. The wind whipped around her, tugging at her clothes and hair, but she held her gaze steady, determined to make it to the contest.
The sky seemed to stretch on forever, a vast canvas of blue and white. Below her, she could see the faint top of other islands, their green and brown tops rolling with the waves of clouds as they passed by. Above her, birds flew in perfect formation as if they were part of some elaborate ballet.
Mortana kept walking, her feet never slowing, even when the rope bridges began to sway. She could sense the tension in the air and knew that a storm was coming.
The wind grew stronger as she progressed, and Mortana had to concentrate intently on keeping her balance. Suddenly, lightning flashed across the sky, followed quickly by a loud crack of thunder.
Mortana's heart skipped a beat as she scrambled for cover, but it was too late; she had nowhere to hide from the harsh weather. She pressed on, determined to make it to the contest before the rain set in. She had never been that lucky, though. Why should she expect it to begin now?
The next few hours seemed like an eternity as she fought against Mother Nature's onslaught. Her hands struggled to keep a grip on the wet ropes as her feet slipped on their wet surfaces.
Finally, she made it to a larger island with a small cave, a rest stop in case of moments like this. Mortana ducked inside the small dark space, her clothes and hair drenched from the storm.
She took a few moments to catch her breath but soon realized that the worst was yet to come. Ahead of her, black clouds filled the sky, and they seemed to be moving ever closer. Her stomach twisted as she realized she was walking right into the eye of the storm, and her chances of making it to compete were slipping through her fingers as quickly as the rain was coming down outside.
Mortana sighed and pushed herself back up, steeling herself for what was to come. Never before did she let anything get in her way of getting what she wanted, and she wasn't about to let a bit of rain stop her now. Though she had to admit, this was a bit more than just a sprinkle.
She gave her bag and cake one quick check, cast an extra water-repellant spell just to be safe, and left the shelter to brave the storm once more.
The wind whipped around her, and the rain stung her eyes. She couldn't see anything beyond the next piece of rock, and the rain blocked out her vision of the islands ahead. She could see nothing except the storm, but even that was soon taken away from her.
Mortana found herself tiring quickly.
A flash of lightning blinded her momentarily, followed by a loud crack of thunder. She couldn't see anything. Mortana felt around her, searching for something she could grab onto, anything at all.
She heard the roar of the wind, felt the vibrations as the lightning struck the ground and set fire to the grass. Then the rope started to give way beneath her feet.
She fell, her hands scraping against the ropes as she felt herself begin to slip. With a cry, her feet were no longer under her, nor was anything else. She found herself midair and terrified.
She opened her eyes to see the swirling clouds below her, grey and white and mottled, illuminated by lightning in the darkness. The wind whipped at her clothes and hair as she continued to fall. The clouds seemed to stretch on endlessly. The feeling of weightless panic was suddenly replaced by something else, a kind of clarity and peace that she hadn't felt before.
Then, without warning, her vision started to blur, and the edges of her world seemed to meld together. She was in a place and time that she didn't recognize.
She was standing on a balcony overlooking a grand ballroom. A crack of thunder had Mortana turning around, but in the window's reflection, she didn't see herself. Instead, she saw a woman several years older and dressed in a dark green ball gown with an entire garden of flowers embroidered as if they were growing up the skirt.
A stranger stood beside her, dressed all in black, a crown on his head. He looked out into the room below and spoke words that filled her with dread.
“She's not here. No woman here is qualified to become the queen of the sky fae.”
Almost as if she were a puppet, Mortana felt her body move and a strange voice speak from her body, “Your majesty, you mean to tell me that out of all of these incredible women here from many different kingdoms, you don't find any of them to be pleasing?”
The man growled, “You know that the queen of this kingdom requires more from her than any other. The islands themselves choose their queen. I have no say in the matter, Claire. It's almost as if I am cursed.”
“My apologies, your majesty.”
The two watch the crowd as they mingle and dance to the twelve-piece orchestra below.
“I must admit, you were the last person I expected to find at a ball advertised as an opportunity to become my mate. Are things not well between you and Kalob?” the king asked.
A sigh slips from my body. “He's gone.”
The man's face whips in my direction. “He left you?! That dirty no good...”
“No, nothing like that. He was taken. I am trying to find him. I hoped you had heard word since the two of you had once been close.”
Mortana felt her consciousness slip from the woman's body, and clouds surrounded her once again. She thought she had woken up for a moment until she realized it was all wrong. There was no rain. No thunder. No lightning.
A loud rumble caught her attention, and as she looked, a large piece of rock fell from above, nearly hitting her. More rumbled and quickly, it began raining rocks that steadily grew in size. Fragments of buildings and livestock fell with them.
Her world was falling to pieces around her, and she didn't know what to do.
And then the rocks vanished into the shadows, and Mortana was brought back to reality as she continued to fall through the rain and clouds.
She was still falling, but now the fear and confusion of before had been replaced by an intense curiosity.
What did this place mean? Who was this stranger? Had her vision been real? Did she just black out? She had never had the gift of foresight before. Is that what this was or had she just snapped and completely lost it when she came face to face with her own demise?
As the questions tumbled through her mind, Mortana's hands reached out to grab onto something, anything, that might help her understand what had just happened. And that's when she felt it. A single golden thread caught on her fingers, a single thread that seemed to have been waiting for her.
With a tug, she pulled it, and everything seemed to stop for a moment. With a loud crack, the clouds seemed to part, and something emerged from them, heading straight toward her.
With a sudden jerk, her freefall stopped. She could feel something rough wrapped tightly around her torso. Her hand raised to cover her eyes, Mortana peered up to see what or who had just saved her. To her amazement, a large beast with dark black scales and leathery wings fighting against the wind held her in its clutches.
She couldn't believe it. She had just been saved by a dragon!
Mortana clung to the claws that were wrapped around her for dear life. The powerful grip of the dragon kept her safe against the raging storm, the wind and rain whipping around her like a chaotic symphony. She had no idea where they were heading, but she knew anywhere had to be better than straight down into the void below.
As they flew higher and higher, she felt herself in the grip of a kind of vertigo, a dizzying sensation of altitude and speed. The wind rushed through her hair, and she closed her eyes, feeling her body tumbling through the clouds.
Suddenly, the dragon shifted its wings, and Mortana felt herself being borne up one last time. She opened her eyes and looked down, her heart racing with fear.
Below her was an island that she had never seen before. A large city spread out around it, its streets and buildings illuminated by warm candlelight glowing from the windows. But dominating them all was a castle, its spires reaching up toward the sky. Mortana gasped in awe. What kind of place was she in, and how had she arrived here?
The dragon placed her gently on a cobbled street in the middle of the city and circled one last time before disappearing into the night, leaving Mortana alone on the island. She looked around, trying to get her bearings, and felt a sense of excitement as she realized what had happened. She had survived a fall that should have been impossible to survive, a dragon flight, and landed on an unknown island, one that held mysteries and surprises.
She took a few deep breaths and steeled herself for the adventure ahead. Taking a look around, Mortana headed toward the nearest building. A sign signifying that it was a restaurant of some sort hung above the heavy wooden door.
Desperate to finally get out of the rain, she tried the handle, but to her dismay, it didn't budge. She pushed on the door, and still, it didn't move. Unwilling to give up when she was so close to drying off, she knocked, but no sound came in reply.
Careful of the large puddle beside the doorstep, she made her way to the window and peered in to find the room entirely empty.
“Hello?” she called, her voice sounding strange in the rain and the empty lanes. She knocked again on the glass. “Is anyone in there?”
Suddenly, she felt a draft on her neck. Mortana turned to see what had caused it, only to find nothing.
One last glance cast into the empty room, and Mortana began walking to the next building. Time and time again, she found the same odd situation. Candles glowing, a roaring fire, and sometimes even food set out on the tables in homes, but no one to be found. The silence weighed heavily on her dampening mood.
Feeling disheartened, Mortana looked up at the looming castle that she realized was now incredibly close and decided to give it a try. She had traveled this far. What could be the harm in going a little further?
Carefully avoiding the slick puddles of water, Mortana made her way toward the giant structure. As she got closer, she noticed how dark and foreboding it appeared from afar. The stone walls were scarred with age, and faded battlements adorned the tops of each tower.
The front gates had been pulled shut, but as Mortana drew closer, she noticed an immense courtyard spread before her. Though deserted, she could tell that it had once been bustling with life; cobblestones lined in intricate patterns spread through its center like a labyrinth, and scattered throughout were wooden benches and tables meant for sitting upon while enjoying the sun on days gone by.
She rounded one corner to find an open door leading into the castle's servants' quarters. Mortana steeled her nerves with one last glance behind her and entered the foreboding place.
Gazing up at the ornate ceiling, Mortana walked through the empty halls of the castle. It was as if the world around her had died. Not a single whisper of sound gave away the fact that she wasn't alone.
Mortana turned a corner to find a large kitchen. Its fire had gone out, but the room was filled with tables and racks strewn with pots and pans. She picked up a heavy ladle and began tapping it against her hands. It was just so quiet that she found herself trying to make noise to combat the silence.
She continued along the hall until she came across an old open doorway. She tried to look inside but the light was too dim. She would explore it later.
A few more turns and Mortana found herself in a massive hall. A winding staircase led upstairs from the center of the hall, and the main doors of the castle, two overbearing carved wooden doors, stood at its opposite guarding the entire place.
The floors here were flawlessly polished, and the room was lined with stone statues of knights and ladies. Their faces were long-lost to time, but their war-torn armor still remained, looking as if they had just been placed there, waiting to be put on.
A large door at one end of the hall caught her attention. She walked towards it, noting its massive size and star carvings on the door frame. 'This must lead to the throne room', she thought to herself.
The door creaked as she opened it, but it wasn't a sound that grated against her ears. The thing was old and well-oiled.
She entered the room to find a fire burning bright in the room. Two large wing-backed chairs on either side, a desk near a window and books lining the walls. She moved to the fire, desperate to warm up her chilled bones. Looking around, Mortana was pleasantly surprised by how cozy the room felt despite its immense size.
The furnishings were of fine make with intricate designs carved into wood and gold ornaments adorning furniture. She ran her fingers along a nearby bookshelf filled with ancient volumes and marveled at their contents before continuing further into the room.
It wasn't until she was standing right in front of it that she noticed the elaborate tapestry that hung above an old throne at one end of the room. Held up by four pillars, depicting two crowned figures seated between two dragons. Below it read “Courage never fails.”
Mortana stepped back to look at the tapestry as a whole again before making her way back towards the fireplace. Enough time had been spent looking for the owner of the castle. Instead, she would dry herself off and let them find her.
Carefully, she removed her cloak and bag, hanging them on a rack nearby so they could dry.
With a heavy heart, she removed the cake box from the bag and placed it on a small table next to one of the chairs. Sitting down, she slowly opened the box to find her masterpiece much less squished and disheveled than she had expected but still in a terrible state. Not that it mattered anyway, she thought to herself. The competition was over now, and she had no idea how to get there from wherever she was.
No silverware to be seen, Mortana dipped one finger into the pile of chocolate and cream and licked it off. It was as delicious as she had hoped. She let out a happy hum as she went back for another.
Just as she was about to take another bite, a quiet creek of the door put Mortana on high alert. She peered over and saw a large figure enter. A man stalked toward her with a scowl on his face. His strong jaw and high cheekbones were partially hidden by long dark hair. Bright blue eyes glared at her.
“Who are you and how did you enter my castle?” the man said, his voice rough.
Mortana took a deep breath. “I'm sorry, I was just looking for shelter from the rain. I couldn’t find anyone anywhere and…”
“I didn't ask for an explanation,” the man said, becoming even more incensed by her response. “You should have stayed out. Now that you're here, you're going to have to pay the price.”
“P-pay the price?” Mortana said, her voice wavering. The cake was still clutched in her hand. She quickly hid it behind her back.
The man stepped forward, towering over Mortana as he pulled a long dagger from his belt. “I'll ask you one last time. Who are you and how did you get here?” he said.
“I'm Mortana, I'm a baker. I was dropped here by a dragon, but I came here looking for shelter from the storm. It was pouring rain and I couldn't enter any of the buildings in the city. I'm so sorry,” Mortana quickly spilled out.