Dream of Dragons

the guards? I’ll be back soon, my friend.”
King Jorrne laughed, and ordered the Warmaster to arrange an escort for Aerius and his daughter at least as far as the Kilrough mountains. Aerius took his daughter’s hand and turned to leave, and Haedria only stared back as Loren waved goodbye.
Frowning and shaken, Loren returned to her mother. “Mother, I have a bad feeling about her.”
“Who, Haedria? My dear, she’s as old as you are. What could be wrong?”
“I think she knows about Lind. I don’t know how, but I think she wants to hurt him.”
Queen Katarina looked troubled. “That’s impossible… But I understand your fears, Loren.”
“Mother, I think Lind will be in trouble. I have to protect him!”
“He’s an ancient beast, Loren, don’t worry. If anyone needs protecting, its nine-year old girls like yourself.” The queen smiled, pinching Loren’s cheeks. “But he would appreciate the effort, I’m sure. Lind would love a valiant little warrior watching over him for a change.”

Chapter Two
It was a little over ten years since Loren last saw the princess with blood red hair.
Loren had grown into a fine young woman, who was more interested in hunting with her father than she was studying court etiquette with the advisers. She frequently attended court on her own, choosing to sit beside her parents as they negotiated with nobles and listened to the woes of the commonfolk. Loren would lean her head on her hand and sigh dreamily as she thought of exploring those places far from the walls of Aldoran that the merchants spoke of.
There were the Beastman cities on the plains; Rhodia as its capital, where buildings were made of rough rocks and mortar, and animals that walked on two legs were even more abundant than in Aldoran. Wheat grew as tall as a grown man on the Garruchian Plains, and grass shone like waves of gold as they swayed in the winds. Loren thought of the King of the Beastmen — Gaturr the lion — and remembered his booming laugh and large gold mane. He had let her braid the rough hairs of his mane and decorate them with feathers and shiny stones when she was a little girl.
Or maybe she could sail across the sea to the desert island of Kespia. The tales told of a high walled city in the desert’s center, the only oasis for miles around. The walls had been sanded smooth and to a mirror shine from the strong winds that whipped the sand into storms. The Warmaster had said that Beastmen were rare in Kespia, as the ruling queen felt they were an eyesore. Beastmen could trade, but were delegated to a tiny market outside the walls and had to endure the desert’s wrath. The Academy of Magic in Kespia housed scholars that scarcely ventured away from the desert to seek newer knowledge.
There was also the highest point, the Eye of the World, but Loren had not heard much about it aside from its location. But the Spymaster did mention there was a tall, thin castle sitting on a peak of the mountain, and the only path towards it was a bridge of ice only two hands wide. Loren shook her head when she heard the story, and was convinced it was another of the Spymaster’s tall tales.
Perhaps she could cross the Kilrough mountains to Sagna.
Loren blinked, suddenly remembering. She hadn’t thought of that kingdom at the base of a volcano in years. She had not heard news of that far kingdom since the king and princess came to court all those years ago, and Loren began to turn to Spymaster Isran to ask for any updates on the land when the heavy double doors of the throne room swung open again.
A thin, weary looking man in ratty old robes limped towards the dais, carrying a bulging rough sack slung on his shoulder. Once he reached the base of the dais, Loren leaned forward. There was a line of dark swirls around his neck: mage markings. But the skin around the marks was blacked from harsh burns.
“My lord and lady…” the man began, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I bring you a gift. From the queen of Sagna.”
King Jorrne’s brows knit in concern. “The queen? But Sagna is ruled by King Aerius. Unless he has remarried?” he looked to the Spymaster, who looked shocked and speechless. He had no information about this, when he should know everything about everyone. Isran shook his head.
“Yes my lord, the queen. Queen Haedria. Good King Aerius has passed away last moon, and his daughter has ascended the throne.” The man replied. He swallowed nervously.
“I see. We must contact Queen Haedria soon. So, the gift from the new queen?”
The man closed his eyes and nodded. His hands shook badly as he reached to untie the sack. Loren saw drops of blood staining the inner lining. He slowly reached inside, took a breath, and flung the contents out to sprawl across the steps of the dais.
The court attendants gasped. The queen leapt to her feet. All the Beastmen screamed.
Warmaster Sairus’s cry was a feral roar of despair and outrage, and he was pouncing on the man before Isran could hold him back.
Sprawled on the steps of the dais was the pelt of Gaturr, King of the Beastmen. The lion’s head had been severed, and his skin sliced from his flesh with perfect precision. His golden mane still bore the braids and colored rocks Loren had put there years ago. Gaturr’s clouded, sightless eyes seemed to stare up at Loren, pleading silently.
“How dare you?” The queen demanded, fighting back tears. Gaturr was a good friend of her’s, Loren knew. The lion king had helped Jorrne and Katarina many times before, and he was the first to ally with Aldoran after Katarina had ascended the throne and brought prosperity to