Prologue

She is here, [somewhere]. I sense her, here in the garden. She is always harvesting those herbs of hers. Personally, I have never found such things useful, for what can a dried root heal that true magic cannot? Though I will admit, trivial herbal spells are all most humans are able to accomplish.

I find her running her hands lovingly through some greens as she looks up at me.

“Perhaps this mint will sooth your grumpiness,” she teases.

I smirk back in response. “What you call grumpiness, I call a hearty dose of reality- not all is bright and cheerful, as you think it is. Not everything is good.”

“Not everything is so terrible and gloomy either, dear,” she replies.

Before I can blink an eye, we are walking through a dark, ancient wood as we have done countless times. Ahead of us is her cottage. Our cottage. For once, I smile softly at the thought as we approach. I do not recognize her face, yet I know her spirit well. So very well. I smile in spite of myself as moonlight graces her ash blond hair.

Then the thunder crackles above, striking our home and sending it up in flames. The girl beside me cowers away in terror from a looming shadow that rises in the east. I will not reach her in time!

I jolt awake, sweat rolling off of my feathers like sickness from a weeping wound. I have not suffered a nightmare in 21 years… Why now? My family is well provided for, I have taken care of our enemies sufficiently. We are quite comfortable, if I do say so myself. The nightmare must have been a mortal contagion--humans dream constantly--for despite my keen hearing, nothing moves in the night. And I would never speak so casually with a human; such ‘pleasures’ are beneath me! I rarely banter with Elena, and when I do, she laughs only half the time. Why bother? Humor is wasted on mortals. Still shaken, I nestle deeply into the downy blanket, enjoying the warm, orange embers. There are no dangers or threats here.

Only when I hear screaming do I realize how very wrong I am.

Elena yanks me out of my nest, cradling me in her arms as she runs. “The knights are here!” she whispers.

Impossible! “How can they know I live here? I made sure I was not followed by their men!”

“It does not matter how they found you! What matters is their mission.”

The one meant to end all magic. Which means my imminent demise if we do not escape. “But how did they find us?”

She suddenly cannot seem to make eye contact. “My uncle told them.”

My breath hitches, chest surprisingly tight at this betrayal. I had suspected him, but… “I knew he could not be trusted!” It comes out in a deep growl, and for a minute because of her trembling, I fear I have frightened her, and instinctively wrap my ebony wings around her in comfort. At least she relaxes slightly then.

Despite the nightmare and her words, I pray that it is untrue- the Teutonic Knights could not have found me! I have been so cautious! Yet one glimpse of flashing silver through the windows is enough to confirm her words, for the knights’ swords are clashing against those of our family’s guards’. Sheer, unbridled terror freezes the air as Elena runs for the back door. The livestock are being corralled into wagons, the servants are fleeing, their padded feet dashing to and fro. I cannot blame the fear, not after what they have done to those of my kind before. What they will do to me.... Yet even now, I choke down my own concerns, for it is Elena, not I, who requires protection.

But my human does not take me into battle, where I would very much like to be. She is running to the back garden and fields, still cradling me as if I were a newborn, holding me tightly despite my wriggling.

“You must leave,” she murmurs.

“I must fight!” Even now, I struggle to spread my wings in protest, but she clutches me more tightly. I know she means well, but she cannot face them alone. I know all their tricks, their terrors. “It is my duty to fight.” Yet this newfound burning heat in my chest speaks of more than duty. I want to fight for her, and no one else. This stuns me into silence until she finally reaches the sacred circle of oak trees.

“That’s precisely what they want! They are luring you out!” Her urgency is a desperate plea for common sense, but I shake my head.

“Then a fight is what they shall get!”

“No!” She chokes out. She stops to catch her breath, and immediately I wrench myself free.

“And what would you have me do?” I hiss, my words sounding far angrier than I wish. “Abandon you all to your fates? They will never stop with me!”

“Do you think they will spare us with your destruction? That is suicidal foolishness!” Then she adds softly, almost as if she does not want me to hear, “Since when did you become the fool for a human, Aitvareli?”

Her words strike me as I turn to fly, almost knocking me to the ground. Although I am already a dragon, I feel smaller than a kitten. She has never chastised me before, and for only wanting to defend her? That is all I wish to do! Defending her… I will reflect on such soft thoughts later.

“Clearly, one of us must think of your well being. The Knights will not kill you. Not if they cannot find you,” she replies, her voice a remarkably dead calm. A calm that does not fool me for one minute.

“You would not.”

“I must.”

“I am meant to be with you! Your family and I are one and the same!”

But I can already see her preparing, motioning with her hands, avoiding all eye contact with me as she rolls back her sleeves. “Yes, we are family. And family members protect one another.”

“Elena-!”

“I release you,” she declares, a single tear escaping her miserable eyes.

Such simple words should not be enough to undo me and all my years of servitude. And yet my bond shatters inside me, threatening to undo me. All of me, but her oncoming tears are undoing me even more. I stumble to the ground.

“I free you from your sorrows, connecting you to mine.”

No no no, she cannot do this! I must stay, must fight! Without me, they do not stand a chance against-

“I free you now from this home of mine,

what once was yours, is only mine.

What once was taken, be now restored.

I release Thee now, forevermore!”

And as she stands there in the drizzle, her arms limp at her sides and tear stains down her cheeks, I am once more reminded of when I met her at six years old. The beat of my wings tangles and whips her hair around her face. Why is my vision blurry? Another horrifying realization: Elena is not the only one crying.

I fly. All I hear is the roaring of her words as the wind howls away my pain.

Folly is a wholly human trait. Yet I am indulging in it now as I turn back to the only home I have ever known. “I was released!” I tell myself. Why then are my legs running and wings flapping as they never have before? Why must I return for the ones who just disowned me? Why is my heart beating faster and faster? Returning to the mansion is a terrible idea, simply terrible. I have only just wiped aside my recent tears, yet I am back again! I do not have the wherewithal to face those knights, none at all, not without my bond.

Despite such ridiculously mortal misgivings, of course I turn back. It would not be the first time I have engaged in folly for that human, though I fear this may be the last.

The scent of iron offset mildly with silver burns my nostrils. Everywhere, iron powder litters the ground, seeding anti-magical properties everywhere. Weakening me. Not enough for concern, but certainly irritating. There is only enough of the metal to give me a headache, though that might be from Elena’s spell. Unexpectedly, my chest heaves as I see the manor already up in flames. The heat is followed by a terrifying roar of quiet left in the villains’ wake. One would think her spell would stop me from getting agitated by the manor’s destruction, yet this tightening in my heart goes beyond any normal, physical discomfort. Beyond my now broken bond.

Despite being in my dragon form, I quake slightly as I approach the threshold. Unfortunately, I am far too large to search for her in this body, so I shrink down to a cat, entering a manor of ashes and flames. “Elena!” I call, but she is nowhere in sight.

It must be a trap, for now all is remarkably dull and silent. Surely, the Teutonic knights did not leave already! Not when they are so close to capturing me.

‘I must be cautious,’ I hiss. ‘Control yourself, remember what is at stake! Do not remember her… Or her tears… or yours…’ Wait, the knights did not--would not--leave, but now I realize my family must have. I should be happy, and relief briefly floods my system, but sadness weighs me down. No, I must not be sad, must not be distracted! Yet I spin in circles searching for her even as I try to push aside all reeling memories.

Unfortunately, the Teutonics were more prepared than I had anticipated. Before I could even cross into our rye field, several knights pounced upon me, swords raised. I morph into my dragon form, but before I could fight back, one of them throws something in my face. A large ball of wood, fire, and iron. I gag and turn away, eyes streaming lava tears, but more is hurled at my feet and head. I must return home! Elena could still be inside, unless they already dragged her away. Somehow, I beat my wings and rise above them, but then one of them notches an arrow I know is cast in iron. I barely evade it in time before being forced to retreat into the woods.

She is gone. I feel it before I smell it, for there is nothing left of her scent, only ashes and heat. Did she escape? Before I can flee, I watch between the branches of a birch as three more Teutonics rush into our manor, weapons and potions raised in triumph.

I realize I will never escape from them.

I should be flying away, but they damaged my dragon form too much- I would putter out of the sky and die if I tried. No, running is my only chance now. I scuddle drunkenly down to the ground, shrinking down into a common feline.

Why did she do it? I should be there now, protecting them! Yet in the end, she tossed me aside. I know she was trying to protect me, she must have felt this was the only way; yet with each puff, each breathless beat of my heart, I know what she did was foolish. I pause for breath. I might not be bound to them anymore, but this urge to go back and save them has nothing to do with the magic from which she freed me. Surely she knew they cannot survive without me? Whether or not they capture me, the knights have already tried them guilty.

How could she have sent me away, when she needs me most?

Though the air is crisp as a frail snowflake, heat from distant smoke and ash scolds my nostrils. Or perhaps it is the phantom heat from their lit iron torches I am feeling. I got smug--fire is my element--but I was wrong. They were ready for me this time. I was not ready for them.

“Over there! The demon! GET HIM!”

I have no choice but to flee. No way to turn back.

Elena screams. I know that it's her. I am a coward.

The torch’s pinprick lights blind me, but I flee. Running is all I can do now--my strength ebbs with the destruction of the manor.

The knights are drawing near. If only I were in dragon form…

As I am now, I will not make it. They have the strength of a hundred men, and I can barely stand upright. It is all I can do to flee.

I bolt through the forest. My last chance. The ancient, wooden beings bend and sway as I race along the path, leading me somewhere, urging me onward, to what end I do not know. All I hear is the chaos and tears behind me as I run.

The evergreens and birches soon give way to oaks and lindens, some young, some many centuries old. The landscape grows dimmer the deeper I descend, molting into shades of earthy browns, dark greens, and grays. I almost reach the youngest linden when I stumble and feel the first slash of iron in my wing. I try to rise, but a deadly chuckle chokes me even more than the iron-studded boot that follows.

Metal screeches--my back burns as the metal boot stomps on my tail feathers, halting me in my tracks. The last thing I feel is the iron blade burning me alive.