Ruin Me

Chapter Thirty Three

The dress that Rhaenys wore as they walked into the Dragonpit ended just below her knees, still a lady of the court but also a warrior. Daenyra was dressed for a fight be it on the ground or in the sky. Shadow Fang was strapped to her hip, along with her old sword that Ser Harrold once gifted her. There were also a few knives sheathed between steel and skin that she'd pilfered from the score her husband kept in their chambers. Her head was covered in braids that wound themselves in intricate patterns before falling into a single braid down her back. Her breathing was slow and steady as she prepared herself, just as she did all those years ago when she fled to the Stepstones.

Rhaenys pressed her head to Meleys's side as she whispered to her old dragon in their Mother Tongue. Daenyra did something similar as she pressed her head right on Myrrax's snout, between his two nostrils. If it were possible, she still seemed calmer and more level-headed rather than panicked about going to war again.

"Once again, we fight, Myrrax, but we fight not just for a just cause. We fight for Vaelon, for Baela, Rhaena, Alyssa and Aemma."

Myrrax grumbled as if he was trying to speak to her. She wished she understood. What a thing it would be for her to be able to understand her dragon.

"Promise me, I will see them again."

Not that Myrrax understood, but, that promise was mostly to herself. It was her motivation to see the end of this battle. Before she cared only for the experience and giving herself a name other than a lord's wife – and also because it was the right thing to do – but now, she had to take care if she were to live or die by the end of this. She would not let her young children know the pain of losing their mother as she had. 

"Shall we?" Rhaenys asked before she mounted Meleys.

"By your leave, Princess," Daenyra returned and Rhaenys gave her a nod before they climbed atop their respective steeds. 

Her saddle had been designed for stealth combat, for sticking as low and tight to Myrrax as she could get when he dove from the cover of the clouds. So again, she took her position before Myrrax followed Meleys out of the Dragonpit and to war they went.

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The plan was simple enough. Daenyra would attack first, diving high from the clouds that would swirl around them and mask their approach until Myrrax burned them to ash. Meleys would come down next as she charred the rest of the army and Myrrax would land, his huge feet crushing those under him as he charged into the trees where they would hide and make embers of them all. If only they knew that their plan would be anything but simple.

Daenyra held tightly onto the handles of her saddle as she squeezed her legs to Myrrax's back. It had been many years since she had been to war, but she was born with a penchant for battle, and she would rain down on them with fire and blood.

"Ruarza nābēmagon," Daenyra ordered her dragon. Hidden attack, were what the words translated to but Myrrax knew what it meant as he gave one last flap, tilting himself higher before he tucked his wings in tight and they dove.

She could hear the faint screams from below warning of a dragon in the sky, no doubt Meleys had begun her descent as many of the soldiers fled back into the trees, but they'd never make it in time.

Fire lit up Myrrax's maw as the ground began to burn and the people of Rook's Rest cheered for the sight of the Princess Daenyra come to save them. For the most part, it went to plan. A line of fire prevented many of the soldiers from fleeing from the clearing and back into the trees before Myrrax squashed many of them beneath his feet. His jaw snapped up and swallowed some more as he let out a thundering roar and Meleys began the process of burning the soldiers still trapped in the clearing. Myrrax was a dragon that liked to be in the thick of it, just like his rider, rather than using his fiery breath to take the easy way out. And considering his size, his attack on the ground was just as deadly as his fire.