The Last

Amira flew for what felt like ages. She didn’t know where she was going, she just knew she couldn’t be anywhere near that castle. She relinquished control to her beast and when she opened her eyes again to look at where they were going the surprise rattled her enough to take back the control. She flew over rolling hills of lush green fields that she never would forget the sight of, wild goats and sheep running quickly for cover as her dark shadow passed overhead. She was headed straight for a city, rundown and overgrown. Yet still stood, as if trying to maintain some of its former dignity and glory.

Amira landed heavily in the large streets paved with white cobblestone. Everything here had been designed with a dragon’s size in mind. She could easily walk down the wide street with buildings as tall as she was her violet eyes scanning the deserted area. A lump rose in her throat as she slowly progressed forwards. Everything looked the same as when she had last been here. Colorful storefronts contrasted the whitewashed streets and buildings; large flags now tattered and sun-bleached softly blowing in the near-constant breeze. Food carts remained along the edges, now broken down with rot, the decayed food still in place.

No one had dared return here in years. Amira’s gaze followed up the streets to the grand gates of the Druhan palace. It too was white, but its construction was from the finest quartz and marble in the land. Its spires scraped the sky and the sprawl of the building on the highest point of the mountain commanded the position without question. It was the home to the most powerful creatures to walk this earth. The home of her ancestors. The home of her family.

Amira shifted then, in the middle of the massive street suddenly now dwarfed by these massive buildings in her human form. Stark naked she fell to her knees among the remnants of her once-proud people. Tears streamed down her face as she gazed at her palace, her birthright and childhood home.

She remained that way for a long time. The sun was nearly gone before she drew in a shaking wet breath and collected herself. It was time she went home. She swallowed painfully before she stood, walking over to one of the clothing stores and carefully stepping inside, the door long having fallen off its hinges. She stepped around the stains, eyes glancing upwards as she saw similar ones on the ceiling, and winced slightly to herself. She knew those stains were likely all that was left of the shopkeeper and his family.

Walking over to a rack that held styles of their traditional clothing she picked out a white garment, the color of purity and honesty, and put it on slowly. She slid the skirt on first pulling it up from the bottom before she took the thick piece of fabric that was attached to the back and pulled it up, wrapping it once around her breasts and then once over her right shoulder. She repeated the process and held the fabric in place on her shoulder before crossing over to the counter to pick up one of the golden pins, ornate in design she chose one of a roaring dragon, maw open and poised to strike. She pinned it into the fabric on her shoulder to hold it all in place and took a deep breath before she looked at herself in the dusty mirror.

She had seen her mother and sister repeat this process many times in her youth, and they had always helped her dress when she needed to wear their traditional clothing. This was the first time Amira had done it fully on her own. She swallowed dryly and returned to the counter.

She allowed her hand to shift, talons piercing into the world and scales creeping up the back of her hand. She ripped one of them out and left the grey scale on the counter. A sign of respect, and a promise. Should anyone ever return to this place and this clothing that she borrowed belong to them, she would pay for it.

She returned to the street, barefooted, and began her solemn march to the castle. She kept her gaze fixed ahead of her and began to sing, a slow soft lament in their native tongue. Her eyes burning violet as she shifted to see in the dark her magic lacing through her voice lifting her words to the heavens. The song rose and fell like a leaf on the wind and on and on Amira sang repeating her lament, her voice breaking with grief. She didn’t cease her apology to everyone she had failed until her voice itself failed her as she approached the massive gates.

Swallowing against the burning in her throat, tears staining her skin she walked through those gates violet eyes sweeping around the overgrown courtyard. In between the vines were bones, still in their silver and white armor, clinging to their weapons as if they stood a chance. She made herself look, she made herself take in every painful detail. This was her atonement, her duty, to not let these people’s sacrifices be wasted. The tears steadily fell from her eyes as she climbed the marble steps to the grand entrance, the white oak doors torn from their hinges laying discarded in the main foyer.

The room was dark, the moon was just beginning to rise, casting in its dim light through the glass in the high ceiling. She continued her solemn march, pausing slightly at the end of the hallway, toes digging in slightly to the lavish fur carpet beneath her feet. Her gaze was fixed on the portrait still hanging at the end of the hallway, knocked off-center and barely clinging to the wall by its last remaining nail. The faces of the family had all been torn out, scratched to pieces by massive claws. A shaking breath left the princess’s lips as she tore her gaze away. There were no bodies here, but the smell of death clung to everything in this place. She continued on, passing beneath the portrait into the dining hall.

The massive chandeliers dangled from the high arching ceilings covered in dust, abandoned just as everything else here was. Plates, glasses, and cutlery still were set out on the mahogany tables that stretched the length of the room. Food, or what was left of it, still present on the buffet as if it may feed the dead still trapped here. Amira’s violet eyes took it all in, but her feet kept moving as if to stop would mean her destruction. She took the last doorway forwards, huge arching doors guarding the entrance to the throne room.

The space was massive, large enough for four full-grown dragons, half of the white room was occupied by the remains of one, who’d fought to his last breath. At the head of the room illuminated by the moonlight sat the throne’s high up on a raised dais, nearly thirty steps were needed to climb to the top. Those stairs were covered in bodies. Their dried blood having stained the marble all the way to her feet. Rings of black soot marked where the king and queen fought back, but alas, even the mighty pair’s magic had been overwhelmed. Their remains were missing, but their crowns each were left in their respective thrones.

Amira sank to the dust-covered floor, her knees colliding with the cool stone, a soft sob making its way out of her body. Her soft cries slowly turned into rage, she screamed her pain at the world, destroying her voice, tears streaming down her face. At last, it all became too much to bear. She laid down on that cool floor eyes bloodshot, face swollen from the tears, and let the sadness drag her into sleep.

~

After that first night, Amira did not sleep. She had work to do. With the assistance of her magic, she silently went about cleaning up the palace. Her flames burned through the dust and vines but left everything else untouched. Once the palace was cleaned from top to bottom she began to work on the courtyard and surrounding fields. She cleared out a large portion of the training fields and had shifted to dig, the way they had in the old days, in respectful silence.

Back in her human form once more she respectfully carried each and every bone and body she could find that bore the crest of her family and placed them within that grave she dug. Including the dragons, which she had to regretfully move in pieces. The others, however, the remains of the hellhounds she piled beside the grave. They would not have the peace that she offered her subjects.

The cleansing took several days. Amira did not rest, nor did she stop, ignoring the warnings of her beast. She had to do this, she had to do it for all who had fought to buy her time to escape. She had to do it for the remains of the children, the babies, who never had a chance at life. When at last, the whole palace had been restored, its dead removed to the field she’d chosen, she climbed that dais. She picked up her mother’s crown in her hands, and then her father’s, she ran her fingers along the cool metal standing there for a long moment before she turned away, walking back down those steps and straight outside.

She had waited for nightfall, the full moon rising high in the sky and illuminating the field. Standing beside the mass grave, Amira did not dishonor the people there by speaking to them. Instead, she placed her parent’s crowns beside the top edge and shifted. She could feel his presence, could feel him watching, but remaining afar. She paid him no mind, this wasn’t about him, and it wasn’t about her. She slowly began to refill the grave with the dirt she had removed from the earth earlier. When she was finished she lifted her gaze to the moon silver scales glinting in the night near white in the moonlight. Looking back down to the earth, she carefully used a talon to move the crowns over the center of the grave before she moved to the massive pile of hellhound remains. She made eye contact with Rollo across the field for a brief second before she raised up, neck coiling back as if she were going to strike. Instead, she opened her massive maw, and let loose a blast of unending flame. She poured everything into that feeling, the flame ripping out of her into the night destroying what was left of the people who had taken everything from her.

When at last it was only burning ground that remained, Amira ceased her assault. She returned to her human form, pulling on her discarded traditional cloth and wrapping it around herself swiftly, pinning that roaring dragon on her shoulder once more. She turned her back to Rollo and walked to the edge of the grave she had created. Her loved ones now safely buried, could finally be at rest. The bones of those she had burned, would forever be cursed to know unending rest, they would never find peace with the gods.

“Until the next,” Amira spoke finally, her voice soft and rough, she could sense Rollo’s closeness, but she did not acknowledge him until he spoke from beside her, completing their phrase of farewell.

“And forevermore,” His eyes were full of sadness, his head hanging low in shame. Amira looked to him swallowing against the rising pain in her chest. She licked her dry lips but didn’t look away as she finally spoke to him.

“You came,”

“I will always be with you Princess,” he said looking down at her, their gazes locking their pain there mirrored in each other’s eyes. Unending grief that had no remedy or solution. “I will never leave you.” Those words shattered something inside her, and she took a step towards him as he turned to face her fully. She ran a hand up his muscular arm to then hold his face in her hands.

“Swear it,” She breathed softly as she leaned towards him, the space between them charged with ancient energy, a bond that could never be avoided or denied despite how hard she had tried.

“I swear,” Rollo murmured, allowing himself to be pulled down by the Princess feeling the pull as strongly as she did. Their lips met and she kissed him with such a tender softness, so cautious, full of so much pain, and afraid of more. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare touch her, and moments later she broke away from him.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed leaning into his hand as he lifted it to her face, “I’m sorry I left you.” His thumb traced gentle arches over her face and he wrapped a strong arm around her small frame, drawing her in closer to him.

“You had every right,” he spoke as his hand slipped under her chin and raised it from where it had dropped, her gaze lifting from the ground to his eyes once more. “Apologize for nothing,” he said a fierce note entering his tone. “You are a Queen in your own right, bow before no one,” he told her dark eyes searching hers for a moment before he leaned in to kiss her again, this time with more conviction, trying to convey everything he felt for her in the simple action.

She kissed him back, allowing herself to let go of everything. She allowed herself to finally give in to the exhaustion, to her emotions, to fate, to all of it. She was so tired of fighting, just for tonight...just for tonight, she would be weak. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave in entirely to everything that had been pushing her towards him in the first place. She kissed him again and again, the two slowly getting more and more wrapped up in each other. She moaned softly at his touch, his fingers weaving up into her unbound hair and gently pulling on the base of her scalp. As he moved to kiss her neck pleasure radiated down her spine, it had been so long since she had been touched in such a way. She rested her head on his collarbone closing her eyes softly simply enjoying the waves of pleasure rolling over her. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until he went to kiss her again and she couldn’t force her eyes open no matter how hard she tried, eyelids barely fluttering at the request. She groaned softly in protest as he drew away slightly, she could feel him looking at her even clearer now, having accepted the soul bond between them she could nearly tell his every thought.

“Please,” she mumbled lifting her head slightly, but that only earned her a gentle kiss on her forehead,

“You need to rest,” Rollo said softly pushing her hair out of her face before he bent down, ignoring her soft protests, and swept her up off the ground lifting her carefully with her head tucked into his chest like a small child. “Sleep Princess,” he instructed and within moments of him beginning to walk towards the castle, he felt her consciousness slip away into a dreamless sleep.