Page 47 of The Dragon Maiden

“I thought you said that when you got a Dragon Maiden, you would become stronger,” I said. “But you still got hurt. Does that mean I’m not a good Dragon Maiden?” My voice broke.

Dracul’s face came into view to look at me. “Oh, Valora,” he said gently. “It’s not that. I actually lasted longer than I would have without you, which just goes to show you how bad the fight was. If I did not have you as my Dragon Maiden, I would be dead now.”

“Really?” I asked, shocked at this confession.

He nodded. “Yes.”

I paused before asking my next question. “Have… have you unlocked any special powers yet?” I asked, looking at my hands. “I know you said it doesn’t happen every time.”

He leaned in close to me. “I can fly faster now,” he said. “Much to the chagrin of the two Lords who came with me.” He blew my hair affectionately. “We’ll have to go flying again so I can show you how much faster I’ve gotten.”

I smiled at him. “You need to get better first before we can do that,” I said.

“A good night’s sleep will help with that,” he said. “Good night Valora.”

“Good night, my Lord.”

I quickly fell asleep. Now that Dracul was back, my anxiety had lessened considerably, despite the state he had returned in. Throughout the night, I would awaken, checking on his bandages and finding his condition unchanged. Once, I needed to change them, but otherwise, everything seemed stable. He snored as I fell asleep, a gentle, rumbling sound. I slept deeply. Now that my Lord had returned and was in my care, I could relax.

* * *

The next morning, when I checked on Dracul, I found him in a very different state from the night before. His normally cool scales were warm to the touch and I was unable to wake him, no matter how hard I tried. Thinking quickly, I gathered spare rags and doused them with cold water, laying them on his body to hopefully get his fever down.

“What’s going on?” Lord Verhorn had stopped by. I could tell he was puzzled by my suddenly frantic actions.

“He has a fever,” I explained. “His body is trying to rid itself of any infections he may have.”

“It would be in your best interest that he does not succumb to these wounds,” Lord Verhorn said, leveling me with a stare. I gulped at his words, feeling the murderous intent rolling off him. “Otherwise, a new High Lord will be picked and I doubt he would want to keep you around. Remember that.”

“I will, thank you,” I forced out the words past a suddenly very dry throat.

A little while after Lord Verhorn left, Lord Lorka paid me a visit. He had with him a basket of herbs and a couple vials of potions which he set down on one of the tables. Slowly, he approached Dracul, his keen eyes taking in the state of the High Dragon Lord.

“I heard from Lord Verhorn that he’s taken a turn for the worst,” he said, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I thought these might be able to help. Lord Dracul may be the expert when it comes to potion-making, but I know a little bit.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, walking over to take stock of the ingredients he had brought. “Is there a doctor or anybody who could help him? More than I can?”

Lord Lorka ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “Lord Dracul has shown more interest than most in the healing arts. He’s usually our de facto doctor,” he said. “For the most part, dragons don’t get sick, and typically our injuries aren’t serious enough to require a lot of treatment. There hasn’t been any fighting between the clans in generations, even though everyone still maintains their own armies. It’s something that has just kind of… died off.”

“It doesn’t seem like any of you had good enough reasoning to plan ahead for something like this,” I said, pursing my lips. I grabbed one of the potions Lord Lorka had brought, and he helped pry Dracul’s mouth open enough so I could administer it.

“Typically, a Dragon Lord’s Maiden gives him enough strength to prevent injuries like this.” His words stabbed me, reminding me that I was not enough. I was the Maiden who’d tried to escape. “I don’t mean that how it sounds,” he said quickly upon seeing my expression. “But usually, the only way to hurt a Lord is to kill his Maiden. Rarely do we become injured like this.”

I nodded at his words, and together, we watched for any sign of improvement. Lord Lorka stayed longer than I expected, but eventually, he returned back to his cave, though not before telling me to call him if I needed any additional ingredients.

After he left, I continued with my ministrations, checking different areas of Dracul’s body, ending with his stomach. If he had not bathed me in fire, ensuring that he would never burn me, the heat radiating off his stomach would have blistered my hands. On a normal day, the heat from his belly would fill me with warmth, but now, it could probably boil a pot of water in mere seconds.

Tears entered my eyes. I was not sure what to do next. Lord Lorka’s potion did not seem to have helped at all. “Please don’t die,” I begged him. “Please don’t.”

The only thing I could think of to bring his temperature down was to keep reapplying cold rags, but otherwise, I had no clue what to do. Placing the rags on his stomach caused the fabric to hiss and steam from the extreme heat. After an hour, I began to search the cave, looking for any ideas of how to save him. On a table in the potions area rested a large book, one that had not been there the night before. It laid open to a specific page, and I walked over to read it.

I examined the book, gasping at what lay before me. I glanced quickly to Dracul before turning back. It seemed that before the High Dragon Lord succumbed to his fever, he had been looking for a way to heal himself. He must have known what was wrong with him. On the page before was a brief explanation of what had happened, a list of symptoms, and at last, a cure. All those hours of creating his own tinctures and potions, studying medicine, had paid off. My blood ran cold as I realized what I had to do, what was required of me. Scrawled in a very unsteady hand were the wordsI understand if you can’t do it.

There was no question. Of course I would do it.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I rushed around the cave to gather the ingredients necessary for the cure. I followed each instruction to the letter, chopping, mixing, boiling, and stirring the concoction. At last, I got to the final step—the worst step. For the cure to work, the Lord’s Maiden had to put her hair in the mixture, as well as a large amount of blood. Quite easily, I cut off a hank of hair and dropped it into the mixture, turning it a light-purple color. However, it was the blood that made me panic. As I held the knife to my hand, I began to tremble. The emotional scars from my past were not as gone as I had hoped.

I looked over to my Dragon Lord, took in how labored his breathing was, and knew that I had no choice. He would die if I did not do this. Before I could change my mind, I ran the blade over my hand and squeezed the blood into the cauldron, gasping at the pain and memories that flooded my mind. The drops sizzled as they hit the boiling liquid, changing it to a dark blue that matched Dracul’s scales, as the book said it would. After squeezing my hand multiple times to ensure enough blood was in the potion, I bandaged it haphazardly before scooping out the potion into a nearby goblet.

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