Page 1 of Don't Fae With Dragons

CHAPTER 1: MILI

The warlock smiles as the Moon whispers, “We will tear down the Sun.”

“How do you propose we accomplish that?” says the warlock. He strokes the Moon’s supple rays, kissing one absentmindedly.

The Moon says to their lover, “You will go to Ethelinda. You will find the faery, the gentle one, for she is the strongest of her kind in the Realm. You will earn her trust; you are not to leave her side, for she is both clever and powerful. I will instruct you further when it is time.”

“What shall you do, as I begin this journey?” asks the warlock.

The Moon replies, “I will sow discord among their kind, creating illusions out of air and water. I will plant seeds of discontent, erotic mischief, secrecy, and paranoia. I will disrupt the cool cloud of peace and trust which protects their land.”

As the Moon speaks, the warlock’s eyes harden with focus. He brushes a moonbeam as if he were sweeping a stray hair out of their heavenly face, and the Moon sighs with soft pleasure. “I will do as you have told me,” says the warlock, and the Moon smiles.

“The faery will be the first to fall. Do you swear it?

“I swear it. It will be as you have said.”

The Moon sharpens one of their beams into a pointed arrow, and the warlock plucks it out of the air. The warlock grabs another ray of the Moon’s light and fashions a quick bow, facing the distant town of Ethelinda far below. The Moon laughs quietly as the warlock, their loyal lover, shoots the crystalline white arrow of light down into the town.

–––

I wake up gasping for air, and it’s a moment before I realize I’m clutching myself so tightly that my breath can’t reach my lungs. I loosen my arms, and immediately feel my body fill with the warm summer’s air.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the vanity’s mirrored silver across the room, and focus on my reflection as I calm down. My long black hair is strewn loosely around my shoulders, delicate wavy strands flung about wildly from my thrashing. I put both hands over my ears, they are overactive and get extra pointy during spikes of negative emotions. Even in the dark, my light hazel eyes glimmer with terror, shadowed softly by my long eyelashes. I wet my heart-shaped lips and take in a sigh that almost dries them again, but I sit back, ready to try and sleep again.

“Mili?” Aurora asks, appearing in the doorway suddenly. I feel a sudden twinge of annoyance at her intrusion, but tell myself I’m just grumpy from my dream. “Are you alright?”

I nod quietly, smiling halfheartedly at my loyal companion. I suppose you could call her my lover. Some already do. “I’m alright. I had the strangest dream.”

“What was it?” she asks, already settling herself next to me on the bed. I watch silently as she pulls nearly all the blankets off me, huddling beneath them. I barely hold in a sigh; Aurora means well, I know, but she’s simply oblivious at times.

I shake my head in response.

“You don’t want to talk about it? You’ll feel better if you do.”

This time, I fix her with a pointed look, eyebrow raised, as if to say,tread lightly. She holds her hands up in surrender, and laughs. Her bright smile sparkles in the candlelight of the room, and her green eyes twinkle.

“Alright, fine – no need to be so dramatic.”

“Thank you,” I respond. Aurora shrugs, smiling impishly.

I turn over, hoping to get some more sleep, but Aurora speaks again. “Was it very frightening?”

“Aurora, please,” I say. “I ought to go back to sleep.”

Aurora sighs dramatically, and rolls over on top of me. Her long blonde hair flows down onto the pointed tip of my nose, and I almost sneeze. “Hey, grumpy,” she says. “Come hang out with me.”

“I’m exhausted.” I sigh softly, hoping she’ll take the hint and leave me alone.

No such luck. Her eyes start to glisten with tears and she storms out of the room. I can never tell if her tears are real or just part of her dramatic persona - the kind that makes me wonder if she missed her calling as a faery theatrical performer.

I groan and call after her, “Aurora, wait.” I hear her storming through the house, then the sound of the back door slamming open and closed.

No hope for more sleep, then. I throw on a cloak and follow her, saying a silent prayer she’ll calm down soon enough. Anyway, who needs sleep when you have a melodramatic companion who can turn any conversation into a theatrical masterpiece? I should really consider finding her an agent.

–––

I walk through Ethelinda, alone, after Aurora eventually stops her outburst. The town has a muted radiance to it in the dawn; rather than the bustling streets of the afternoon, always bursting with sunlight and townsfolk of all kinds. In the early morning, the leaves droop from the trees lazily, twinkling with dew. I walk, and walk, and walk, all the way to the lake at the Northern edge of town.

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