Chapter 2

Elspeth McLellan lifted her face to the sun and smiled. Walks in the garden courtyard, of the inner-city castle walls always uplifted her, and she enjoyed every second she could steal away to be here. She enjoyed life here, albeit she’d only arrived a short year ago, returning only after her brother Athdar found her at the convent she was taken to and raised after her parents died. She had lived here prior to her mother’s death and her father’s alleged abandonment, but that fateful year she’d been whisked away to the convent.

Memories flooded her mind. She looked around deep in thought. The monastery was okay to grow up in, but her freedom in Mystic Kingdom made her ecstatic. Home, and she did feel at home, so familiar yet so foreign. She had never wanted for anything but her mother. She had her father’s red hair and coloring, but inherited her mother’s temperament and good heart. She also wore her mother’s soft features, beautiful smile, and sparkling eyes. She missed her so.

She sighed, and frowned at the thought of her death, bringing back the unwanted feelings of losing her at seven winters. The echo of giggles and her mother’s bright face as she swung her around in circles, brought the ache in her heart back. She never saw her laughing-eyed father after that. Many said he fought in the king’s army relentlessly, and ultimately died of a broken heart. She never forgave him for leaving, she wanted to, maybe even understood it, but the hole in her heart remained.

Her thoughts turned to being taken to Northern England to be raised in the monastery. There she healed the sick and injured. Mother Thomas Adley, an odd name which no one discussed, took her under her wing and raised her like a mother hen. She was her mentor, her teacher, her guardian, and her friend. She remembered her with a smile and sadness, as she’d died two winters past of old age.

The place was never the same afterward, it was a place of emptiness and sadness, once again Elspeth felt the loneliness of losing someone she loved, so she was glad her brother, Athdar McLellan, discovered her on a reprieve from their arduous journey.

It was the first time she’d seen him since she’d arrived at the monastery. When she was first taken to the convent to be raised, the king took her older brother to live with him. When he found her, he’d talked her in to going back home to the place her life began. Elspeth shook herself, would she never get those last moments of her mother and the sudden change in her life from her mind? She sighed and continued her walk toward the woods. She ventured to her favorite path amongst the giant oaks of the park.

Coming to the bridge, she sat on a white stone bench, and watched as the crystal water of the lazy river flowed beneath it. Small ribbons of sunlight hit upon the water, and it sparkled like jewels upon a crown. Colorful fish flitted in and out of the bolts of sunshine and made her laugh. She loved it here.

She liked being alone, in this spot, with her thoughts to herself. She was busy as a healer, being able to find this time of relaxation, was priceless. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being the healer for the kingdom because she most certainly did. People loved her and she them. The children were such a joy to her.

She thought back to when she found out she was born a healer. At six winters, their family hunting dog came back from a hunting trip with serious injuries. How she loved Wiley. Caelan, her father carried the limp animal upon his lap into the court yard, shouting for Athdar to take him to a healer.

Without thinking, Elspeth ran to him as her brother took the pup in his arms. She grabbed onto Wiley with tears flowing down her cheeks. Her hands became warm and a green glow surrounded her. The light and warmth from her hands entered her whimpering friend. He yelped, and her brother feeling a jolt of the healing heat, dropped the dog, but she grabbed on and wouldn’t let go. Finally, Wiley wiggled, and she freed him. He was completely healed.

She smiled thinking about his short brown haired, lanky body, and when he shook his tail, his whole behind wiggled. The people in the courtyard had been rendered speechless. That was when she was told that healers were born with the gift and were extremely rare. She was told by the kingdom’s elderly healer that only the pure of heart could use the gift.

One could learn the healing herbs for illness and sores, but a magical healer had to be born with the gift, it could not be learned. Since then she studied as much about healers as she could. Chanting in the old Gods language brought more energy from the Gods to add to her powers. She spoke the ancient language well, praying to them while healing.

The severity of the injury determined the amount of energy needed to heal the wound or illness. Sometimes she felt drained to the point of fainting, having given all she had to give. She couldn’t bring someone back from the dead, but close to it. She enjoyed who and what she was, taking care of the sick, the injured, anyone who needed her gifts. She was very busy in her kingdom, and she loved the people.

A muffled sound brought her out of her thoughts. Again, a cry came and a plea. Elspeth got to her feet and followed the sound. She was going to call out when she heard an angry man’s voice.

“You whore!” she heard, and a slap. The woman cried out. “Please don’t!”

She heard another slap. Elspeth’s heart raced, and she ran toward the clearing, in the direction of the sounds. When she rounded the trees, she stopped, shocked and immobile, she stood frozen to the spot.

There was her king, King Rulm, assaulting a poor bloody faced young woman with wild tresses of raven hair soaked wet with blood. Her eye was swollen shut and blood pouring from her nose. Her jaw crooked and obviously broken. “Fight me whore, I like it when you fight!” The girl whimpered and grew lax, her eyes shining over. She was in shock.

Without thinking Elspeth screamed, “Stop!” and ran toward them. The king raised his head and turned toward her. The evil she saw in his black eyes turned her stomach, and she took a step back in fear.

“Stop,” she said again, though this time her voice was quieter, smaller somehow. The king moved away from the young woman. “You’ll pay for that Elspeth,” he spat through gritted teeth. “You think your brother will save you?” He laughed. “You are wrong, and you are next.”

Elspeth shook her head and backed away. She looked at the girl who now lay dead. The king started for Elspeth, his anger apparent, breaking her fear she began to run. “No!” she screamed.

The king’s laughter rang in her ears. “Your brother won’t save you!” he shouted. “Who do you think ruts beside me in battle!” King Rulm roared again in laughter, and she ran faster.

Where could she go? The gates would be locked, the king would find her, and she’d be dead. Her brother, Athdar? She felt sick. She came to the river. “The cliffs!”

If she could get to the cliffs she could climb. King Rulm would think her trapped there. It was forbidden to climb the cliffs because of the dragons, she had climbed there when she was little. It had been years. Could she do it again? The dragons should be out hunting and she could hide in an empty cave. She would have time to think about what to do next.

The dragons, albeit a danger to people, because of the proximity of the cliffs, also protected the kingdom from intruders. No one ventured too near their caves.

Even though dragons would delight in a human meal, they hunted the fields and ate the animals that fed on the crops, mostly worogilds, six-legged animals with a soft thick coat. People not only used their meat, but their hides as well.

Their co-existence with the dragons was beneficial for both sides. Since the dragons refrained from attacking humans despite their desire for human flesh, the kingdom appeased them by offering up those who were convicted of horrible crimes.

The offering was something of a blood sport for those who enjoyed such things. Spectators would gather and wait for the bell that called the dragons to be rung. It was something that she, as a healer, could not understand. Archers stood ready just in case the dragons descended upon the crowd. It was the closest to the dragons most would ever dare to venture.

She was afraid, but she would take her chances, after all she was dead if King Rulm found her, and she feared what he would do to her before he killed her. She thought about his wife the queen. Did she know? She was tall, beautiful, striking, strict, but she never seemed evil, nor did she mistreat her people. She must not know what her husband did behind her back.

Before she knew it, she reached the familiar cliffs. Where was the hunting party? No time to think about that now, she had to climb. With shaky hands, she ripped her emerald skirts to her knees, tied the strips around her waist, and began her ascent. She found the places she used to know as the best footholds and skittered upward.

When she hit the halfway mark, she paused to think about where to go next. She intensified her climb when she noticed the sky and the coming dusk. She had almost made it when the sky turned red. The dragons would soon be leaving their caves to hunt. She looked for a way to hide from the dragons and spotted a shrub growing out of the side of the cliff. There beside it a ledge. She would wait there.

Climbing onto the ledge behind the bush, she leaned back and sighed. She caught her breath and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she looked down to the valley below. It was so small, the river a winding ribbon, falls roared in her ears, and she looked down at her hands wrapped around her knees.

Her fingernails were broken and bloody, her knees raw and bleeding, her shoes were tattered, a toe peaked out muddy and caked in blood, but she didn’t feel it. Her fear had her in a hypersensitivity mode beyond anything she could feel physically.

Before she could think too much about what state she was in, she heard the first roar of the dragons. Almost like a call to all. Then the flurry of wings and the giant, colorful animals flew from the caves. She watched one in particular weave its way from behind the falls. Smart, she thought, very good hiding.

That was where she’d go. She watched in amazement and awe as they rose up in the air in a flurry of giant wings and colorful bodies and disappeared toward the fields. She realized she had a healthy love for the large beasts.

She stood, and with the last bit of light, made the last of the climb. With her body close to the wall, she sidestepped behind the waterfall being careful to feel for the opening. When she came to it she crawled inside and dropped. Just inside to the right was a small fall that came through the roof and landed in a pool that eventually flowed along the crack, back outside, where it joined the mother waterfall.

A place to bathe, she thought, as her eyes dropped shut, and she lay against the wall. She fought sleep, as she had to leave before the dragons got back, but for the first time since escaping the king, she felt safe and exhausted. She couldn’t keep her eyes open.

A dragon roared somewhere outside, and she woke with a start. Memories hit her like a rock, she knew the dragons were on their way back. She jumped up, and her breaths became fast and short. She hugged the wall in fear and it dawned on her. She was dead now, after all she did to get here, she was sure as dead. With wild eyes, she looked from left to right. What to do now?

She heard a louder dragon scream followed by a lower pitched one. Together the screams came fast and furious. They were fighting! Fighting! She moved to the edge of the opening and through a slit in the water she could see two dragons fighting in the moonlight. Then as soon as the fight started, it stopped.

She moved back and leaned on the wall once again. Moments later she heard scraping, and she looked to the opening, her fear replaced with awe. A head the size of a huge boulder looked through the opening. Florescent green and shimmery yellow scales adorned the majestic head.

Bright greenish-yellow almond shaped eyes turned toward her and narrowed. Short ribbed spikes adorned either side of her head, in rows moved back to the neck, and reminded her of a woman’s hair braided tight to her head in two rows. The dragon opened its mouth to blow fire at her, to incinerate her. She screamed, “No!” internally as she’d lost her tongue.

The dragon came closer to her and reared back. The thing was as big as a two-story dwelling. She shook and put her hands over her eyes waiting for the flames. Then she felt the floor rumble, and an oomph came from the dragon. She slid her fingers apart and peaked through. The dragon lay on her side, blood flowing profusely from a wound in its stomach. “Oh, my,” she exclaimed, and without thinking ran toward the dragon.

“Stop,” said the dragon. Did she really hear that? She took another step and again heard “stop.” This time she knew it came from the dragon. She stared at the injured dragon, and her desire to heal increased. “Wait,” thought the dragon. “You understand me?”

“Sort of, I think. You thought something very strongly or I imagined it.”

The dragon closed her eyes, then opened them again. “Impossible,” she thought. “Do you carry the dragon mark?”

“Mark? What mark?”

“No one has communicated with a dragon in over a thousand years, except wizards. Are you a wizard?”

Wizard? She shook her head, maybe she was imagining things. She shook her head to clear it. “I’m a healer.”

“Maybe why.” The dragon sighed. “I’m dying, good is your spirit, your color I can see. Take care of them.”

“Take care of who? The other dragons? Who did this to you?”

“Father theirs, comes at time they hatch, eats male offspring. Not all dragon father’s do, and not all kingdoms are like that, but he doesn’t allow males to live, only females. He’s killed all males who have tried to move inside our kingdom. He’s killed all male children who survive. He’s the only undefeated male amongst us living.” The female dragon sighed in pain. “Gone is my time. Take care of them.”

“Who?” asked Elspeth again. She walked to the dragon. It opened its eyes and looked toward the back of the cave. It opened its mouth, and she jumped back. The dragon took a deep breath and blew fire. Her gaze went to the back of the cave, and there on a large nest encrusted with more gems than she had ever seen, sat what appeared to be two dragon eggs, almost as large as the dragon’s head. “N…Nnnnooo. I don’t know anything about dragons.”

The moonlight came through the hole in the ceiling and draped over the dragon’s belly and brought her mind back to healing. This time before the dragon could open its eyes, and lift its head, she ran and placed her hands just above the wound. She leaned her head back and began to chant in the ancient language.

Immediately light encircled her, illuminating the cave. The dragon opened one eye but was too weak to do anything else. She looked at Elspeth in fear. The light flowed from her hands and encircled the wound. The bleeding slowed and the wound closed. Just when she thought she wouldn’t have enough energy to heal such a large creature, she heard the dragon’s thoughts. “My children.”

She intensified her chanting. The light and warmth increased. Elspeth glanced at the dragon as it moved its head and opened both her eyes. Amazement and something else, something endearing came from the wondering look, and then Elspeth heard her. “Saphira,” thought the dragon. “Name mine, Saphira.”

Elspeth caught the name and whispered “Saphira.” Then she collapsed on the floor and her light went out.