Prologue

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The battle raged. Smoke obscured the castle as the walls fell from the balls of fire shot through them. It was thick and black and caused all to cough who inhaled it. The fumes noxious and smothering. Sounds of metal clashing as swords clanged against each other and against shields and armor. The sound of men crying out in agony as they were wounded with either metal or fire.

Sheiria turned this way and that. Desperately looking for..... There! She could just make out the bulk of his shape. She would know his massive outline anywhere. Just as she reached his side, a sword pierced through her shoulder, almost cleaving her arm from her body. 

Erwan watched in horror as his love was grievously wounded. Knowing she was dying, he immediately dropped his sword and snatched her up in his arms and ran into the castle and attempting to lock them in the inner most parts of it. He would not let her die in the midst of the battle for their home. They would die together, because his beast could not survive without it's mate. Running into the interior of the keep, he ran to the bolt room, where there was a tunnel for escape.  Just as he was heaving the heavy thick  wooden door closed, a pair of hands pulled it back open. 

There before him stood the reason for so many things. This battle. Sheiria's fatal wound. The reason that their son had been spirited away by his most trusted captain and the boy's nursemaid. Ragar was an ugly man. In both mind, heart and appearance. Unkept, wild, knotted hair. A mouth full of rotting teeth. A demeanor of cruelty and greed. The only thing about the man that resembled health was his rounded belly, suggesting a habit of over-eating and over-indulgence.

"I finally have you in a place where you cannot escape me. You and your kind came here and take our women, our wealth, and anything else you can get you claws on. Now, all I have to do is find and kill your brat after I make him watch his mother and father burn to death as the castle burns down around them. As your screams die, I will enjoy dragging my blade against his flesh while he cries for you both and screams in terror, knowing he is going to die and that there is nothing anyone can do to save him." Ragar's face twisted in cruelty as the hateful words spilled from his mouth.

Erwan knew that he and his beloved wife were going to die. But he would take the satisfaction of knowing that Ragar would be denied the one thing that would satisfy him the most. Killing his heir.

Ragar was slightly taken aback as Erwan smirked and then laughed deep and hard, followed by racking coughs, thanks to the thick smoke filling the castle.

"My son has not been in this castle for over a month. He is safe. In a place that you can never have access to. A place safe and sacred to my people. A place he will be raised to know who and what he is. You see, Ragar, you will die in a few years. My son will live for centuries. Not only will he live, but he will establish our kingdom once more."

Erwan had the satisfaction of seeing Ragar's face seethe with rage as he, along with help, pushed the heavy door shut. Looking down at his wife, he noticed that she still lived. Knowing she must have been in agony from her wound, he held her gently as tears rolled down both of their faces. 

"At least Tine will grow up and we are together at the end. I would have it no other way."Erwan whispered.

Sheiria tried to reach up to stroke his cheek but was too weak from blood loss. "I am thankful for the time that we have had. The love that we have shared has been beyond anything that I could have imagined. Who knew that loving a dragon would be so wonderful. I wish that I could have thanked the Clutch elders for taking in Tine and teaching........."

Erwan looked at his beloved and realized that she had breathed her last. Knowing that his beast could not survive without it's mate, he released a great roar that caused the castle walls to completely collapse upon them as he died.


Sheiria is my own creation and is pronounced She-ray-a

Erwan is Celtic for dragon and is pronounced Er-wan, like you would pronounce Obi-Won

Tine is Celtic for Fire and Is pronounced like time with an n

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