"Who are you?" Duke Theomund Whitlock voiced, his brow furrowing in genuine surprise, a flicker of warmth sparked in his eyes.
Sophie, Eydis' maid, beamed with pride. "Your Grace, did you like it? I outdid myself today!"
Eydis, a mischievous sparkle dancing in her eyes, glided closer. "Don't tell me you've fallen for my makeover, Your Grace. Those damsel-in-distress tropes are positively archaic, wouldn't you agree?"
The Duke chuckled, a hint of self-consciousness colouring his cheeks. "In my defense, Miss Eydis, you're practically unrecognizable."
He had always admired her beauty, but this new persona was captivating. Her face, no longer hidden by a curtain of bangs, revealed its delicate features in full. Her tresses, once restrained in a utilitarian bun, flowed freely past her shoulders, shimmering with renewed health thanks to Sophie's touch. He fought the urge to brush his fingers through the cascading waves, careful not to disturb the intricate braids adorning them.
Eydis, catching his hesitant glance, offered a knowing smile. The subtle curve of her lips, enhanced by a whisper-soft shade of rose lipstick, held a hint of unspoken secrets. Her eyes, framed by precise eyeliner, locked onto his with an intensity that made his breath catch. He understood the power those emotions held, and for a moment, felt oddly grateful not to be the one under the spell.
"You look...presentable," he finally managed, his voice a rumble deeper than usual. He earned a light laugh in response, and a flush creeping up his own ears. In that moment, the Duke couldn't deny the unexpected charm of the veiled stranger before him.
"Shall we, Miss Eydis?" Duke Theomund extended a hand, his usual stoicism momentarily softened by a flicker of genuine curiosity. Eydis placed her hand gently in his, her apprehension about the journey lingering despite the comfort of his touch. Memories of her gruelling month-long carriage ride from Terravale resurfaced, stoking a familiar knot of anxiety.
"Your Grace," she began, voice laced with concern, "this arduous ride need not burden you. You could have remained at Silverkeep."
The Duke's low chuckle sent a curious warmth through her. "Ah, Miss Eydis," he said, eyes twinkling with a secret, "this journey promises far more than a bumpy carriage ride."
Eydis harboured an ominous feeling about this.
The source of her unease unveiled itself shortly before their departure. Towering presence were creatures that had vanished millions of years ago. The dragons of Silverkeep, suspiciously resembling the long-lost generations of dinosaurs, stood before her. Not a Paleontology enthusiast, Eydis could vaguely deduce that these colossal flying reptiles were, indeed, the remnants of ancient time. Their wings, vast and membranous, spanned forty feet, draped in a pristine white plumage. The purity of their colours seamlessly blended with the snowy sky, a useful camouflage for the journey. Long necks and beaks, accented by the same immaculate hue, contributed to the creatures' regal and otherworldly presence.
The largest boasted a luxurious, enclosed capsule perched upon its back, spacious enough for four. Smaller dragons, saddles adorning their sleek bodies, awaited the mounted knights. Eydis' apprehension, so recently gnawing at her, transformed into a mixture of awe and exhilaration. This was no carriage ride.
The Duke excused himself from his knightly huddle and approached Eydis with a charming smile. Before she could react, he swept her into his arms with surprising ease and, in a swift, graceful movement, landed them in the luxurious capsule atop the largest 'dragon'.
Eydis blinked, still processing the sudden change of scenery. "Your Grace?" she inquired, eyebrows raised.
The Duke's lips twitched. "You seemed... vocal about our choice of terminology regarding our majestic sky beasts."
She feigned innocence. "I wouldn't dream of questioning it, Your Grace. I'm fortunate enough to be riding these magnificent mythical creatures."
The Duke chuckled, letting the matter drop. The dragon handler took his position, and with a barely audible whisper, the beast took flight.
"Just thought I'd offer a pre-emptive warning," the Duke teased, leaning back in his plush seat. "Don't mind the altitude."
Eydis sighed, resigned to his playful jabs. "Perhaps that little detail could have been mentioned before…oh, I don't know, launching ourselves into the open sky?"
The Duke's laughter filled the enclosed capsule. "Don't worry, Quetzal is as gentle as a feather. He'll take good care of you." His eyes, lit with a spark of mischief, held a hint of something deeper, unspoken.
Despite maintaining a moderate speed of approximately 50 miles per hour, opting for aerial routes promised an expedite journey to the Capital. Including a night rest, the trip could be compressed to one and a half day trip. It sounded almost too good to be true, and, well, it kind of was.
Unfortunately, "amazing and o-mighty dragon" Quetzal seemed to interpret their trip as a personal aerial Olympics. He danced through the sky, playfully weaving between cloud formations and altering his speed like a whimsical metronome. Thrill-inducing dives were followed by exhilarating ascents, each maneuver highlighting his incredible agility and undeniable mischievous streak.
"Ugh," groaned Eydis. Their journey hadn't even crossed the one-hour mark, yet the siren song of sleep medication beckoned loudly. The irony – one day she'd scoffed at the idea of riding a dragon, and now, here she was, sharing a carriage with a practically royal one, fighting the urge to politely return her breakfast to the world. The Duke's earlier amusement at her skepticism, coupled with the curiously timed empty paper bag in his hand, felt like a cruel prophecy.
She should have skipped breakfast.
The Duke, his playful facade replaced by genuine concern, offered an apology. "Forgive me, Miss Eydis. Quetzal seemed more excited than usual; perhaps yearning for the freedom he's been deprived of as we haven't been travelling for quite some time,"
Eydis offered a wan smile. "Thank you for your worry, Your Grace." She closed her eyes, seeking solace in the rhythmic recitation of pi – a familiar anchor in the swirling chaos.
3.14159...
Suddenly, the world tilted as Quetzal took a daring dive towards the frozen river, skimming past a sheer canyon wall with mere inches to spare. Her grip tightened on the carriage seat.
…2655897…
Then, just as abruptly, the dragon surged upwards, its attention stolen by a speck in the distance.
…9323846…
Eydis watched as Quetzal, propelled by newfound purpose, chased after the fleeting shadow. His handler, a middle-aged man with a face matching her own pale nausea, tugged futilely at the reins, his struggle a silent mirror of her own, unlike the Duke, who remained unaffected. Her concentration shattered when Quetzal, with apparent delight, chose to dive once more.
Oh for fuck sakes.
"Are we there yet?" Eydis sighed, rubbing her temples as she sought some kind of distraction from the endless sky.
The Duke, emerging from his contemplative state, offered a gentle smile. "I'm afraid we have another seven hours till our next stop, Miss Eydis."
"Quetzal's aerial antics aren't exactly subtle," she remarked, eyeing the playful swoops and dives of their dragon mount. "I thought we were taking a detour to avoid the witches?"
"Indeed we are," the Duke confirmed, his smile widening. "But fear not, I've cast a magical shield around us. To any outside observer, our journey through the clouds remains invisible."
Eydis' curiosity bloomed. "Is this a common spell among nobles, Your Grace? It explains why I've never encountered dragons before."
He chuckled. "Elemental abilities vary, Miss Eydis. My silver shield reflects our presence, making us undetectable as we move through the sky. Take House Sylvanwood, for example. Their nature magic allows them to disguise their land-based dragons as ordinary creatures, all while preserving their true power."
"And I imagine House Azura could travel unseen beneath the waves," Eydis mused, "while House Terravale could traverse the earth itself."
The Duke's eyes gleamed with appreciation. "Sharp as ever, Miss Eydis. Indeed, each House possesses unique modes of concealment. For our imperial guests, though, aerial travel with Silverkeep's dragons was surely the most fitting choice – both swift and majestic."
Eydis nodded, although she couldn't quite agree with the sentiment.
"That and those Azura folks reek of blue cheese; Her Royal Highness wouldn't fancy travelling with them," Duke Theomund quipped, playfully wrinkling his nose as he followed Eydis' gaze towards the mountains. The view, familiar to him his entire life, now held an unusually captivating charm.
"Oh my, who are you and what have you done to our prim and proper master?" Duke Theomund chuckled at Eydis' mock surprise.
"On a serious note, Your Grace, why have the nobles gone through such lengths to hide the existence of dragons?"
The Duke turned, his smile fading slightly. "Dragons, Miss Eydis, are powerful creatures. Immensely so. Their strength, speed, and agility are unmatched, and their control requires immense skill. Uncontrolled, they can be…devastating." He paused, a distant memory clouding his eyes.
"There was an incident, some twenty years ago," he continued, his voice low. "Illegal dragon breeding led to chaos, an entire county laid waste by beasts beyond human control."
Eydis pressed on, "How could an incident of such magnitude be completely erased from history, within a mere two decades?"
The Duke's silence spoke volumes. He leaned back, studying her with a newfound intensity. "And what do you make of all this, Miss Eydis?"
Unfazed by his cryptic question, Eydis replied, "I have no theory, Your Grace. But I must say, wiping out the rumours entirely in a span of a few years required certain powers."
"And what power would that be?" The Duke stared intently at her, silver eyes gleaming in curiosity beneath his long eyelashes.
Eydis met his gaze unflinchingly. "Would you excuse me if I may or may not intentionally discuss sensitive matters concerning the royal family?"
"Interesting choice of words, but I shall grant you full immunity. Please share your thoughts." It was peculiar that the Eydis' loud thoughts remained muted at that moment. The Duke wondered if she had managed to reverse her curse or if her mind was genuinely free of conscious thoughts.
"I could see two options, Your Grace. The first, assuming magic doesn't exist, is to leave no witness." Eydis spoke with a knowing glint in her eyes.
Duke Theomund was surprised at Eydis' calm demeanour, considering the gravity of her theory. "And the second option?"
Eydis held her steadied gaze at the Duke, "There's also the matter of memory manipulation. The history book vaguely mentioned the five elements, but the true extent of Divine power remains veiled in mystery."
The Duke reclined, eyes glinting in amusement. "Perhaps it is, perhaps it isn't."
Eydis watched the Duke closely, sensing his hesitation to divulge more. Judging by his guarded smile, she knew she'd touched upon a sensitive nerve. Deciding to respect his unspoken boundaries, she steered the conversation towards other topics.
The rest of the journey passed in a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic sway of the dragon and the hushed whispers of the wind. As the sky finally darkened, their destination, a shimmering point of light in the distance, beckoned closer.
A sudden rustling in the night, soft at first, then growing in intensity, shattered the tranquility. Eydis and the Duke looked up, their eyes widening in wonder. Above them, a magnificent dance of color had erupted. Emerald green bled into vibrant crimson, kissed by an ethereal splash of purple. The once-obsidian sky was transforming into a living canvas, a celestial masterpiece unveiled with breathtaking grace.
The Northern Lights. A spectacle that had danced near the top of Eydis' bucket list, demanding both luck and patience to witness. It had materialized before her, a vibrant promise painted across the cosmic tapestry. She watched, transfixed, as the shimmering spectacle draped itself around her, enchanting her features in a luminous waltz.
The Duke, mesmerised by the ethereal beauty before him, reached out as if to capture the image of Eydis bathed in celestial light. But the moment was shattered. An ominous shift hung in the air, the once ethereal purple deepening into a sickly, pulsating violet.
Without hesitation, the Duke conjured a shimmering shield around Quetzal and its precious cargo. Seconds later, the world erupted in chaos. Blazing streaks of fire rained down from the sky, engulfing the forest underneath in a terrifying inferno. Thick, choking smoke billowed up, drowning the nascent stars.
"We are under attack!" Duke Theomund heard panic cries of his knights as dark figures materialised out of thin air. Witches, a score or so, their eyes burning with unnatural fire. Without hesitation, he took control of Quetzal, the dragon dipping towards the ground like a majestic hawk.
A shimmering shield pulsed into existence around Eydis and the handler, a beacon of protection amidst the encroaching chaos. From above, Duke Theomund surveyed the scene, his silver eyes glinting with steely resolve. His knights engaged the witches in a flurry of clashing swords and crackling spells.
Purple flames surged through the air, scorching the earth. Duke Theomund's anger flared, fueling his attacks. He lashed out with his whip of white light, its whip-crack echoing like thunder as it sent witches toppling.
But the witches fought back with ferocious magic. A rain of fire rained down, injuring the knights despite their shields. Theomund felt a searing pain as flames grazed his arm, but he pressed on, his movements a blur of steel and light.
A sudden shift in the air, an insidious presence. Theomund twisted, whip morphing into a gleaming diamond blade, striking down an unseen attacker before it could land a blow. The witch crumpled to dust, leaving behind a faint echo of malice.
Confusion flickered across his face. These witches, so easily dispatched, yet seemingly endless, appearing from the very air. Something wasn't right. He summoned a bow of pure energy. Three silver arrows sliced through the air, finding their marks as witches dissolved into nothingness.
Captain Lionel and Sir John materialised at his side, concern etched on their faces. "Your Grace, are you injured?"
"I'll live," Theo grunted, urgency lacing his voice. "Keep the witches at bay. I need to check on something." With a worried glance at Eydis, still protected below, he steered Quetzal back towards the ground.
The battle raged on, but a shadow of unease crept over Duke Theomund's heart. This was far from over. The answers, he knew, lay not in the ashes of defeated witches, but in the mystery of their seemingly endless arrival.