Chapter One

A twist on the classic princess-in-a-tower-guarded-by-a-dragon story

 

Chapter One

 

The ground was shaking under my feet, fire filled the air and a giant black-scaled dragon was glaring down at me. I wasn’t scared. I’m not brave or stupid, I just know that the dragon won’t harm me. It can’t; it’s not allowed. This is my dragon. I don’t own him or anything, he’s my guardian.

When I was put in this castle, my family gave me a dragon to protect me from harm.

I don’t know his name, and he can’t talk, so I call him Brim. Like brimstone �" I named him when I was 10 and I haven’t changed it in the past twelve years. It kinda fits.

Anyways, Brim is angry. He’s angry because I tried to escape. Again. And every time that I do, he catches me before I can get past the mountains and brings me back.

He doesn’t think I’m ready for the world beyond the valley’s borders. And maybe he’s right, but I’m sick and tired of being locked up in a castle with a dragon and one other human as company.

The human is Zachary, he’s the castle caretaker. He brings me food three times a day and then vanishes back into wherever he comes from. I don’t think he and Brim get along so they stay away from each other.

Brim snorted loudly to get my attention.

“Yes, I’m listening.” I said up at him. “Not that you’re saying much of anything.”

Brim rolled his great yellow eyes upwards as if asking for strength.

“Look. It’s been twelve years. Surely the war is over and I can go back. Mother and Father have probably tried to get me out of here but you scare everybody off. You have terrible manners, you know.”

Brim growled.

“You don’t want to be here anymore than I do, Brim. Don’t even pretend that you do. You want to fly and stretch and soar through the clouds.” I crossed my arms and leaned back against the throne room wall. The castle is decorated with a mixture of elegant ancient tapestries and silks mixed with hundreds of children’s’ drawings. Well, child. Just mine.

Over the years my drawing skills had improved, and if I imagined hard enough I could almost picture what the rest of the world looked like. I’ve tried hundred and hundreds of times to recreate anything of my life before I was sent here, but it’s next to impossible.

All I know is that there was a war, and my parents enemies were going to steal me away as retribution for something my father did, and to keep that from happening my parents locked me away with Brim.

Brim bent and shoved me over using his snout. I smacked at him, “Don’t be nasty.”

He murmured something in my general direction and turned away, I stayed on the floor to avoid being hit by his tail. He wouldn’t hold back �" we’re way past that.

He thundered away, growling and grumbling the entire way out of the throne room. He turned left and disappeared into the bowels of the Right Wing, his side of the castle. I used to be curious about what was down there, in the dark, but over the years I haven’t been able to get past the floor to ceiling steel gate. I gave up a few years back, switching my focus to breaking free instead.

Laying on the floor, I had a perfect view of the mural painted on the ceiling. It was of my parents and myself as a baby. They were smiling down at me, and I had a tiny hand wrapped around Father’s finger. He was clothed in black pants and a red sweater. His strong jaw covered in a thick black beard that blended into his hair. His eyes, the color of the deepest ocean, were twinkling with happiness as he wrapped an arm around Mother. She always seemed to get more beautiful the more I saw her. Of course, I only have about ten photographs of them in total, but still. Her hair is the color of sunlight, shimmering and falling over one shoulder. Her moss-green eyes, a trait I had inherited, were brimming with happy tears. Her mouth was open in a laugh as she held me to her chest. I had my free hand clutching the deep purple of her fluttery summer dress, and my short hair was a typical baby-mess. I wore red, like Father.

They always seemed unreal to me. Like a painting somebody did and added me in after. They seemed unreachable to me.

I closed my eyes, blocked out the sounds of the castle and the wind howling outside, and tried to conjure them in my mind. But, like usual, I couldn’t.

It was blank. Not even their voices, or the feel of their skin.

Once when I was a child, I could have sworn I smelt lavender blossoms on a pillow case but over the years that smell had faded and I wasn’t even sure it was ever there.

“You angered him again.”

I flicked open my eyes to see Zachary leaning over me, gold eyes lit with disappointment.

“I want out, Zach. I’m not going to quit trying to escape. You know that.”

“It sounds bad when you say it like that. ‘Escape’.” He sat down next to me, stretching his long legs out, flicking his disheveled black hair out of his face. He was always in need of a haircut. “You’re here for your own protection. You’re not a prisoner, Gwen.”

I sighed. I knew this already. “But still. Don’t you think it’s time to go back? Don’t you want out, too?”

Zach didn’t give it much thought, “Not really. I’ve been here too long to really care about going back.”

“You’ve been here as long as me, right?”

He shook his head, “No. I’ve been here two years longer than you.”

I sat up at this, “Really?”

He nodded, an almost-smile on his lips. “Really.”

“I always thought they sent you here to take care of me.”

“I was.”

“But you’re only a few years older than me.”

“Didn’t matter to them.” He bent a knee, draped his arm over it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Why a castle?” I flicked a look around us at the stone walls and the elegant décor.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the twenty-first century. I mean, why did they lock us away in a castle. A penthouse in New York would have worked just as well as a castle in Scotland.”

He gave a chuckle, “You can’t exactly bring a dragon to New York.”

“And that’s another thing. Why not hire actual human body guards?”

“Do you think that any human could protect you like Brim can?”

I sighed. “No.”