The Princess & the Dragon

Chapter 1: Revenge Takes Place

One dark mysterious night when the moon was full, a heathen man walked with chains tied to his ankles. A low, shallow screech sent echoes through the open space of the metal dragging along the concrete pathway.

Eyes blazing red and teeth that drooled for the thirst of human flesh, the man hid his true identity under the hood of his black leather cloak. In search of a treasure that has been in his possession since he was a young child he takes the journey into the forest in hopes of finding it. News has been spread of a desperate commoner that has stolen it. Just a few miles outside of town there is a small cabin, where the commoner has been recently spotted. The heathen man dares to track him down and to put an end to all of this.

At the end of the alley stands a man with a single cigarette hanging from his mouth. He reaches up, pinches the cigarette between his first two fingers then removes it from his mouth. With an exhale of breath a puff of smoke escapes his mouth, floating off into the air before disappearing.

The heathen man grips the handle of the sword that hangs from his waist. He wasn't looking for a fight, not yet, but he will prepare for one. He holds the sword tightly in the palm of his hand as he walks closer to the man. There are no second chances and revenge will take place if this man crosses the heathen. Whomever does either ends up dead or cursed.

Somewhere in the distance crows perch peacefully on the branch of an old oak tree. A wolf howls at the moon and a man takes his last breath. The heathen carries with him a heavy load. Death follows closely behind him as if it is his very own shadow.

The man drops the cigarette down and steps on the butt with the heel of his shoe. His head lifts, and his eyes turn wide at the sight of the heathen man who stands only a few feet from him.

Using his claw like fingers the heathen pulls down the hood letting it fall behind him. He removes it slowly and reveals his crystal ball shaped head. The man covers his mouth with his hand and gasps. No where has he seen such a dangerous creature as horrifying as this heathen. Startled by his appearance he stands frozen and still.

The heathen leans in closer and breathes out the fire that burns inside of him.

"Rosark," The man speaks softly. "Please forgive me. I did not see you coming this way."

The heathen, Rosark, is vex toward this man and frightens him further by snarling out showing his fang like teeth that drool full of saliva. "What are you doing in my way, River? You are not welcomed here." The words hiss out through his teeth like that of a snake.

"Please," River begs him. "Forgive me for the disturbance. I have something here to make up for my inconvenience." River reaches into the front pocket of his coat and pulls out a red ruby stone. He lifts it up into the light and there it glistens, showing off its worth.

In one swift movement the ruby is out of River's hand and in Rosarks. He flicks his wrist in a half twist and the ruby disappears. "Indeed," He snarls. "Be on your way before I make you face the fires of the dark world."

River backs away slowly, afraid that if he makes any sudden movements it will set Rosark off. He waits, preparing himself for what he knows will end in a fight. "No need for that. I am already on the bound for the East waters."

Rosark places the hood up back over his head and licks away the saliva that drips down from his teeth. He continues on his way deep into the woods where the little cabin sits, as he does his side brushes River's and sends his whole body into a chill.

Deep in the woods at the top of the highest mountain, where the light of the moon dares to touch, sits a small cabin. Smoke comes out through the chimney and a low glow of light peeks through an opening in the curtains. Rosark inhales the sense of life that is near.

He grips his sword like he has done all night and feels its sharp edges on his fingertips as he squeezes the blade. Blood drips down his hand and sizzles like smoke as it hits the cold night ground. The blade could cut through the truffle of an elephant in just one swing. He leaves it buckled at his side just in case the commoner is willing to fight. Even though his powers alone could defeat even the greatest creature he finds no use for them tonight. The commoner is weak and no threat to him.

His stance before the cabin is a solid one as he waits and listens to the sounds around him. A predator is eating its prey. Clouds move in the way of the moon and dark falls on the treetops. Heavy fog creeps along the mountain tops creating a bed of white below Rosark's feet. He takes a step toward the cabin and takes each step up the porch in stride.

At the front of the cabin is a wooden door with a single bronze handle. He reaches out his claws to knock against the wood. The sound echoes into the woods creating a loud enough noise to wake the dead.

After a moment a shadow of a woman appears in the single window. Silence falls as she stands and waits. Then the handle turns, and she pulls the door open a quarter of the way. Her petite figure is wrapped in a light pink cotton robe. Her thin dark hair lays down over her ghost-like face. Pale skin and green eyes beam in the low glow of the lamp in the corner of the room.

"Can I help you?" She asks, her voice is almost a whisper.

"Yes," Rosark hisses between his teeth. "John Stone lives here, does he not?"

"My husband." The woman starts to close the door, but Rosark puts his claw out to stop her.

"I have word that he was here three moons ago. John stole my treasures. Give them back to me or die. It's your choice."

"John hasn't been home in months. He's gone missing."

"Lies," Rosark steps closer closing in the gap between himself and the woman. He lifts his claw up to her cheek and drags it down the woman's face scratching the skin near her chin. Small drops of blood fall down landing on the floor near her feet.

"Please, I don't know where he is."

"May I have a look?" Rosark peeks past her and into the cabin.

Yet there is nothing there, only a small flicker of light that fears of his presence. He hears the loud sound of a child screaming in a bedroom down the hall. A loaf of bread turns to mold and a bottle of milk goes spoiled. Rosark craves the fear he finds in others and tonight he feels it strongly under the will of the woman. He wraps his fingers around her neck and in one tug he lifts her off the ground. Her feet dangle beneath her.

"I will give you one last chance to tell me where my treasures are."

The woman shakes her small head while holding in her breath as Rosark squeezes his grip tighter around her throat. His claws dig deep into her skin forcing blood to ooze down the front of her night gown. She opens her mouth and gasps for her last breath. "Please," Her fingers wrap around his wrist as her eyes beg for her life. "I have a son. I am all he has. Who will care for him?"

"That is not my worry." Rosark tells her. "And soon your son will pay as well."

"Please, don't." Tears fall down the woman's pale cheeks. Rosark's eyes beam red as he squeezes her tighter and watches the life in her slowly fade.

In the room down the hall a young boy's cries echo louder. Rosark tosses the woman's limp lifeless body to the side then makes his way toward the boy's bedroom. Inside he finds a crib pushed against the wall under a window. The infant boy stands and holds onto the railing of the crib. His face red, and wet from crying.

He turns and a mirror hanging by a single nail shows no reflection of him. Growing angry by the minute he throws his fist into the glass and shatters the mirror into a million little pieces.

The small innocent child remains holding onto the railing to keep his balance. Rosark can taste the young boy's fear on his tongue. He swallows it down as the thirst consumes him. He walks up to the young boy and put his hand on the top of his head. In a whisper he speaks out the words of the curse. "Tin' Lou Vadonto."

The curse of the dragon.