Four years ago, Morgan was found half-dead near the dragon village of Thorsbury Upon Wick.
Morgan cannot remember what happened to her, but the villagers suspect she might be a dragon from their long lost ancestral homeland.
Adopted by the villager...
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E R I K
I walked through the frozen forest in the direction of our camp. The sun was weak, and snow had started to fall again. I hated the cold. It reminded me of the countless months spent on the mountainside, holding our defensive line against the Mad Prince's army. Seeing that boy's frozen body being pulled from the river reminded me of the thousands of fallen soldiers I had seen frozen on the mountainside. Their nameless faces, along with the memories of my father and brothers, haunted me.
Dear God, if they only knew of the predicament I was in now. Mated to a fox. For years, I had worried about the prospect of a bride. As a royal prince, I'd always imagined being coupled to a highborn lady or Princess. As a long-time soldier with none of the manners or elegance of the aristocracy, I'd found the thought of a high-maintenance wife daunting. However, not in my wildest dreams did I'd ever imagine being tied to a fox instead of a Princess.
I angrily kicked at a lump of snow and cursed the little Fox. My plan to drive her out of the village had so far failed. I should have let Byron and Ranni have her, but I couldn't. Despite everything, I couldn't let them harm her. I would have to find another way to protect her.
I neared the edge of the camp and saw Byron sitting alongside Ranni. They were both staring down miserably into our supply bag.
"Judging by that look on your face, I'm guessing we don't have much for dinner," I said, trying to sound upbeat.
Ranni lifted her head sadly and replied, "Not unless you have an appetite for boiled rabbit head."
I shuddered at the thought.
"Look, there has been an incident in the village. A young man slipped into the river last night and drowned. The villagers pulled his frozen corpse out the river this morning. They are angry and are looking for someone to blame. I think we should leave this place and return when things have settled in the summer," I said rationally.
"Why would they blame us? We had nothing to do with the boy's death," Ranni asked pulling the dead rabbit's head out of plastic bag.
"They're village folk," I shrugged. "They are simple people who fear outsiders. They will blame us simply for being strangers."
"Come on, Erik. This village has an Internet Cafe and is on a bus route to Bristol. Fortunately for us, the people here do not live in the Middle Ages," Ranni countered.
I opened my mouth to argue but choked on my words. I couldn't find the proper excuse to convince the others to leave.
However, I caught the scent of something in the wind. A whiff of burning sandalwood and sage. I lifted my head and saw a sight that made me this that the universe had answered my prayers.
