Queen Seraphin Lycthra, Queen of the Elves. Her sister, Bril was fit for the title. She had green almond eyes and soft lips, her features were smooth while Seraph’s were often sharp in line with her aggressive nature. Then again, no ruler in Drescosia could afford to be subtle, the Elves had stood strong for thousands of years and Seraph refused to be the one who brought it all to the ground.

Against everything the councilors advised Seraph often wandered through the forest surrounding the main city, Uzloln, named after one of the old Elven Kings, at least that was the story. Wildred, the elder of the twelve Elven Counselors had once forbidden her from leaving the castle when she was only a princess of twelve years old. Soon afterward Counselor Wildred gave up on keeping her within sight when she escaped out of her bedroom window. In favor of Seraph’s sake, the elves held strong morals against cutting down the trees surrounding the Castle, as they were the woodland creatures, or they would have taken down the one beside her window. They couldn’t have the crowned princess leaving in the dead of night, not to return until morning.

Now, as the queen, Seraph spent her days avoiding Wildred along with the other councilors. Although, the councilors rarely ventured into the forest, leaving her to her own accord once she left the palace.

She walks towards the dragon stables. Young elves who were children of Nobles and of royal blood were required to learn the art of Dragon Riding, many were gathered before the Royal Dragon Lord who spent his time speaking to the children. Seraph hung in the back and the children stare in awe as a dragon is brought forth. Few are frightened by the scaly creature towering over them.

Sir Elandorr Faeleth bows when he notices her, “your grace,” he says as he rises again, knowing Seraph wouldn’t respond. In less audience he wouldn’t bow, he might have nodded to her if anything at all. It was her preference. His daughter, Sylis Faeleth was the only friend Seraph had. Their name, Faeleth was a combination of the bloodline Elandorr’s great-great-grandmother, Merikyn Tormaer had come from. Lithin had been their surname before his great great grandfather had altered it for his children. Merikyn had been the Queen of a scattered species of winged creatures called the Chetulae.

The Tormaer name had been lost years ago when the old queen had died. The Faeleths were disgraced and mocked by the elves for years until Seraph’s mother had given them the title of the Dragon Lords when the last family who had control of the dragons died off. Seraph could relate to their troubles with the people, the one thing Seraph knew was that her father was not elven. She had minute features that made her more and more unlike the elves. Her white hair and one purple eye separated her from her people, there were rumors of her lineage and some went as far to say that her mother, the last queen, was not elven.

She was the least liked ruler of the elves, she refused to marry although there seemed to be a pending engagement at her every turn to a different prince or noble. Seraph seemed, so far, unable to put an end to, the councilors were persistent with their conquest to marry her off. She knew neither his name nor the face of the newest noble or prince.

The Queen was ruthless, mad for blood, at least that was what everyone said about her. All Seraph wanted was to be left alone but her calm composure in the line of fire told the people something else. They believed her ideal throne was stacked with bones, they said that she enjoyed the smell of burning flesh, it was their way of understanding why she was so intrigued by the dragons.

“Lord Elandorr,” she says with a smile, near to sincere but in more ways than one it was cynical, “it is my pleasure.” She had been taught how to act in society by a tutor of rigor who she had despised.

When Seraph was a child the council had given her a tutor for her lack of etiquette. It may have been those days where the elves became nervous about their future queen or at least realized the potential threat to their well being. Her Tutor, Lady Yulikna, daughter of Councilor Loita was one of the most beautiful elves in the Kingdom. Lady Yulikna had dark brown hair and soft chocolate skin. Her dark green eyes were outlined with dark lashes. Her nose wasn’t too small nor too large and the elf’s lips had more color than most, a rosy pink. Although, Seraph had hated her, her mother had just passed and even as a child she wanted everyone to pay for what had happened.

How harmful could a seven-year-old girl really be?

The councilors understood their mistakes in forcing the crowned princess into learning etiquette after sixteen days of Seraph being ordered around by Lady Yulikna. Seraph was a beautiful child but she grew out of it quickly. She had white hair unlike anyone else in her family, and her one purple and one green eye made the people say she wasn’t her mother’s daughter but others argue that her father had never been seen by the public and he could have had the white hair of his demonic daughter. Her skin was light and smooth, at least it had been then, now her skin was etched from scars and the right side of Seraph’s face was burned by a dragon. If she had been any other queen they would have slaughtered the dragon for harming her but they could only hope Seraph would have died from her burns.

Seraph makes her way around the group and towards the stone mansion towards the edge of the forest. The mansion was called Tormaer Manner despite Tormaer no longer being the family’s surname.

The front door was always open to Seraph, they had insisted that she makes herself welcome in the mansion. Not just as the queen but as a friend as well. Sylis sits across from her mother, holding a steaming bowl of soup and she places it on the table when she sees Seraph. Sylis is dressed in long flowing pale green silks. The bodice of her dress is nearly impossible to pick out beneath the multiple pieces of fabric sewn together. She was dressed for the banquet tonight. Seraph gives her a timid smile while Sylis beams broadly at her. While the kingdom had grown to dislike the Faeleth’s they knew the family was a gift in disguise. If she was left to her own accords of revenge on her mother’s death the legacy of the elves would turn to one of bloodshed.

“Is it the council?” Sylis asks when Seraph’s mood plummets at the thought of the banquet. It was never the amount of people, it was always who was the quest of honor. A young boy looking to marry the queen.

“The unusual. Usually, none chose to go this far. Humans have been invited and they will be arriving soon.” Seraph answers and crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes piercing through Sylis and continuing into the distance and the disturbing images of her mind.

Seraph didn’t hate humans, elves were superior here but in the The Nohen, their power was overwhelmed by numbers. Of course, they weren’t planning on going to war. The council did have the rational fear that Seraph would.

“And Bril? Where is she?” Sylis asks with the knowledge that the council would always have newcomers meet the princess before the queen.

“At the border, she will be riding here with them,” Seraph says as she takes Sylis’ hand in hers. “We should go.”

The two walk out of the house and Seraph closes her eyes. Adrih. She whispers in her mind. When she opens her eyes the dragon with black scales and dusty silver wings drops to the ground without making the slightest of sounds. He towered over the queen but his movements were gentle and he bows his head to her, allowing Seraph to pull herself up on his back.

Similarly, Sylis takes the reins of a dragon with flaming eyes and rusty red scales. His wings are orange and gleam in the light of the sun orange which peeks through the greying clouds.

A long line of soldiers and horses stretch down the path towards the palace, the front had already reached the palace. To the palace. She tells Adrih and the beast angles his body down the air rushes and he brings his wings back. They begin spiraling down towards the white walls and marble staircases. At the last moment, he shoots his wings back out, gliding over the heads of the soldiers and the carriage Seraph assumed carried some part of the royal party. Adrih lands in front of the castle steps with feather-light feet and he holds his head high as she drops to the cobblestone road.

Sylis and the red dragon, Juovo, land further away and the Dragon Keeper’s daughter walks to her queen, standing beside Seraph her right arm across her stomach and the long sleeves hang down past her knees.

Princess Bril Lycthra holds the reins of her white tiger, the tiger’s head is dipped in the presence of the Queen and it sits at the height of Bril’s shoulder. The Princess is dressed in all white to match the beast beside her. Bril’s dark brown hair is parted farther to the right and her green eyes are light and airy as she begins making her way towards Seraph.