The Price of Knighthood

Marcella gently stroked the monochromatic scales of her best friend’s forearm. She was panting now, dark plumes of ash billowing out of her nostrils, dirtying Marcella’s slip.

Marcella didn’t care. She was somewhere between agony and rage. Her best friend was dying, and her killer was slowly making his was up the towering staircase that once felt like home.

Aemrel rolled her head to better see Marcella. Her once bright eyes, now clouded with pain, found those of her companion. She chuffed at the human girl, slowly moving her head closer.

Marcella reached out, lifting Aemrel’s head to rest it in her lap. The dragon’s head weight nearly as much as the girl herself, but neither noticed.

Marcella stroked the softer scales between Aemrel’s head. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this, Aem. We were going to leave together, rule the kingdom at each other’s side.”

Aemrel arduously rolled one eye toward the door. The footsteps were closer now; they didn’t have long. The dragon’s green eye then focused on the single wooden chest in the room, the chest the king had entrusted to Aemrel not long after Marcella’s birth almost two decades ago.

To Aemrel, those decades may well have been centuries. She was but a hatchling herself when human and dragon retired to this tower. Marcella was to learn, and Aemrel was to protect. The tower and Marcella were truly all she had ever known.

Marcella followed her gaze. She was never allowed to open the chest. It was the only rule Aemrel ever enforced. The chest was to be opened the day Marcella’s father returned for them both.

Thump. Thump.

The man was now smacking against the only barrier left between him and they. Marcella’s slip grew slick with drool and ash. Aemrel didn’t have much longer, and they both knew it.

Once again, the dragon stared at the chest, imploring Marcella to obey her one last time.

“Aem, the chest can wait. Don’t leave me, please!” Hot, wicked tears spilled from her face as she kissed the dragon on her nose. Aemrel’s tongue slithered out, giving one last affectionate lick to…

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Max Smith is a writer and communications outreach specialist who focuses on connecting people through stories and shared experiences. Connect with me on Instagram and Facebook . Website…

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