The Dragon's Human Bride

That day, everyone moved as if terrified of their footsteps. The cicadas did not sing, the birds went mute and the blazing, molten-golden sun was not bright enough to dispel the lurking shadows. No one spoke above a whisper and occasionally, eyes darted up to the skies, watching, waiting.

“Have you heard?” A woman whispered to her friend as they walked. “The Draka – dead.” She spoke the words as if uttering a taboo and then she leaned in closer, lowered her voice even more and added, "Killed by his son.” Those words had a ripple effect. The woman walking beside her stopped too fast at her words and fell forward.

“The young one?” She asked, knowing the answer but fighting disbelief as she caught herself.

“The young one,” her friend affirmed. Her eyes widened like full moons as she trembled, a terrible cold stiffening her joints.

“Wasn’t he just hatched?” She whispered, her voice inaudible. Her eyes darted to the skies and her gaze scanned the crowd moving in hurried footsteps.

“Only thirteen.”

“There will be blood,” the woman said, looking up at the sun that beat down with a definite vengeance despite being unable to brighten the dark and dreary day.

“Our homes are in danger again,” her friend said. “It is a curse to be bordered by a war-torn kingdom. We are never safe thanks to –“ Her words died down in her throat and her heart stopped.

“Dragon!” came a shrill cry as a child pointed shaky fingers up to the skies.

All eyes moved in unison to stare at the beast. Wings large enough to block out the blazing sun caught everyone’s attention. The women watched with their mouths hanging half-open even as hundreds of arrows launched into the air after the dragon. It was not an orchestra but they were enthralled. The dragon’s terrifying screech broke the spell.

“Take cover!” A man’s voice boomed and the chaos they awaited erupted around them.

The skies rained arrows, people trampled each other in haste while doors continued to slam shut as families took cover. Gedeon, a tiny kingdom bordering the First Kingdom, was once again thrown into panic by the politics of the dragons.

“My daughter! Girl, where are you?” While others rushed to take cover, a slender woman ran about, bumping into others as she went. “Girl!” She was hysterical.

While her mother searched for her, the child made a new friend.

“This is my hideout, what are you doing here?” She was about seven but malnourishment made her smaller than a five-year-old. “Ah – You – Are you bleeding? Did Conan and his gang bully you!?” She looked up at the boy towering above her, her fists clenched in anger as she thought of the kids who bullied others. “Come, I’ll treat you!” She grabbed the boy and pulled him deeper into the abandoned cave and the boy, delirious from pain, did not resist her.

“It’s okay,” she shushed the boy as he collapsed with a groan. “Do you not know to give them anything they ask? It’s not good to resist Conan!” She scolded. “You are lucky you found me. I learnt some things from the physician that once served the King.” Pride tinged her tone. “I’m going to become his apprentice once my mother gathers the payment fee.”

She chattered nonstop as she took out crushed herbs from a pouch tied around her waist. It didn’t occur to her to be wary of the bruised child. He was her first patient and she was more excited than wary.

“Do you like cherries? I have some.” She shoved half-rotten cherries into his groaning mouth as she continued to chatter. The old physician said it was good to talk to a patient, it would help them relax, he said.

“Have you ever seen a dragon?” She continued to talk. “My father has one. One day, I will like to ride a dragon. I wish I was a shifter. More cherries.” She shoved more of the rotten fruit into his mouth as he thrashed in pain while she tried to stop the bleeding from his side where an arrow was once lodged.

Her little hands worked fast. Sweat beaded her forehead and with time, the boy passed out. It made working on him easier since he stopped thrashing about and making frightening sounds but when a long time passed without him showing any sign of life, panic set in.

“Is he – Is he dead?” She asked when she poked him with all her might without him so much as twitching. “No, he cannot be dead. I did everything right.” She gnawed on her lips as she watched the boy. “His chest is moving, that means he is breathing!” She nodded, reassuring herself but a while later, the rise and fall of his chest slowed.

“H – Hey –“ Her heart was in her throat when she poked him again. When he didn’t respond, she gathered the last of her strength and smacked him hard. “Oh, no – no. I’m sorry.” She knelt in apology. “I did not mean to hit you but please –“ Tears filled her round eyes and her stomach rumbled. “Do not die in my hideout,” she pleaded with the stiff body on the ground.

This was her home away from home, her little escape room. It was a sanctuary she did not want desecrated by a corpse.

Her heart stopped for a moment when realization struck. “I am a murderer. Wait, no,” she shook her head hard enough for it to hurt. “I cannot go to prison,” she whispered into the dark space. “Mister, you cannot die when I was only trying to help you!” She screamed at the boy laying limp on the ground. “No, no! Wake up!” She shook him, rolled him around and even kicked him but like a log of wood, he remained dead so she ran.

She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, her head pounding, heart pounding and eyes filled with tears. All thoughts of preserving her sanctuary fled when she thought of going to prison. She ran until she ran into a man.

“I am innocent!” She screamed when the man grabbed her by the scruff of her neck.

“Where did this rat come from?” The man lifted her to eye level with a sneer. “Have you seen a dragon?”

‘He caught me. He knows I killed the boy!’ She thought.

“I –“ She started, her heart pounding. “I am –“

The archer she ran into wondered what was wrong with the dirty human child. Even the adults had gone into hiding at their arrival so what was this pesky thing doing out and about?

“I did – it was a mistake,” she whimpered, choking on her tears. “I was only – I am sorry!” She bellowed and the man dropped her at her sudden screech.

“Anna, is that you?” A woman’s hoarse voice called from a short distance away.

“Mummy!” The child screamed, rushing to the woman. “I want my mother!”

“Where were you?” The mother pulled the child’s ear, dragging her back to the brothel.

At dawn the next morning, Anna went back to her sanctuary to bury the boy whose image plagued her throughout the long night but when she got there, he was gone.

It was like a dream. Had she conjured the sight of him? Did he wake up and leave? Did his family discover his body and are now hunting her down? All sorts of absurd thoughts passed through her mind. Meanwhile, the boy was making his way into the cave after washing off the blood on him.

“You are alive!” She exclaimed when she saw him enter the cave. “Or are you a ghost?” He looked too healthy for a person who had been lifeless mere hours ago.

“Who are you?” The boy spoke with a sharp tone and eyes that watched her like a hawk.

“Who am I? Well, who are you? This place is mine!” She folded her arms and glared at the boy. He had caused her so much trouble and all for what? “Why did you not wake up after the treatments yesterday? I thought you died!"

“You helped me.” There was neither appreciation nor interest in his voice. There was nothing – only a lifelessness that mirrored his mood. About to go off on a long tirade, Anna took a deep breath. “Why?” That quiet question made her pause.

Theon looked at the child scolding him. She could be no older than five years old but he remembered, through the delirious pain of the previous day, how she treated him and offered him comfort. She was just a human and a weak one at that. What would she ask for now? Human greed knew no bounds so he was prepared –

“You were in pain,” she responded, cutting into his thoughts.

“What has that got to do with you?” He was confused. Did she mean she helped him because he was in pain and nothing else? “You helped me because I was in pain?”

“Should I have let you die?” She shouted at him. “Would you not help someone you see in pain?”

No, he would not. Why would he waste his time helping a person who could not defend themselves, especially a stranger at that?

“Even at risk to yourself?” He asked, studying her as one would a bright bug.

“Yes, did your mother not teach you that?” She gave him a curious gaze.

Now that she was sure he was not a ghost, she was overjoyed and proud of herself. She could not wait to tell the old physician how she cured a patient all on her own. It was strange but there was not even a scar left behind from his injury. Was she not a genius physician to accomplish such a feat?

“Are you a prince?” She asked when she paid attention to his looks.

Black hair and wide, golden yellow eyes that could not be human, a high nose, red lips, sharp chin and tanned skin without a single blemish, were all features that she concluded a normal boy could not have. The kids down the street definitely did not look this good. His beauty belonged in a fairytale.

“A prince,” he muttered to himself.

He killed the king so by right, the throne was his but there were six older brothers who would have his head if he dared get close to the throne.

“A prince? Maybe I am,” he responded.

“What is your name?” She asked the boy who looked on the verge of a breakdown. “I’m Anna,” she said when she saw him hesitate. “Anna Mitchell.”

Mitchell? Children like her were little better than slaves and could not enjoy the luxury of a surname. Her mother called her Anna but most others called her ‘hey,’ ‘brothel girl,’ and the brothel owner called her ‘filth.’ A girl like that could not have a family name but Mitchell was a name she liked so she adopted it.

“Anna Mitchell,” the boy rolled the name on his tongue and he made it sound a lot classier that it did in her head. “Call me – Theon.”

Thus, a beautiful friendship begun.