The Dragon Rune

Chapter One

Duvaineth loved living by the sea. She loved all the smells and the tastes and watching the waves crash against the cliffs. As she aged, however, she saw less and less, until the sea was only seen in the mornings when she woke and the evenings before she slept.

She led a quiet life, there by the sea, always under the watchful eye of her loving father, though she saw him as seldom as she saw the waves she loved so dearly.

Duvaineth rarely deviated from her daily routine: reading, studying, and walking through the garden. Though, today was a special day. Her father asked her to walk on the beach with him. Very few times had they taken a walk outside the garden. The anticipation was almost more than she could handle as she read messages to her father, translating in and out of varying languages in a web of words. Duvaineth whistled happily while she worked, her free hand repeatedly braiding her hair.

"Someone's happy today," said a lilting voice behind her.

Duvaineth turned to greet her dearest friend. She had always been a little jealous of her looks; high chiseled cheeks, a square but delicate jawline, dark angular eyes, all framed by thick, silky black hair. Nyla was the epitome of perfection.

"Oh, Nyla, it's the best of all possible days, Father asked me to go on walk with him."

Nyla took a seat on the padded bench beside her.

"Well! That's a surprise."

Duvaineth put her quill back in the jar, turning to her dear friend and nodding, "It is indeed. It's a rare occasion that he has the time." She couldn't help but smile.

"Duvaineth," asked Nyla. "May I comb your hair?"

Duvaineth sighed overdramatically.

I wish she didn't want to brush my hair all the time, she thought. I'll loose all my hair if she keeps pulling it the way she does.

"If you insist."

"I do!"

Picking up her silver comb, she handed it carefully to Nyla.

She began to work, combing Duvaineth's hair into sections, braiding it into intricate designs as she worked.

"You know," Nyla started, continuing her pattern of combing and braiding. "My brother is a scout now."

Not this again, thought Duvaineth.

However handsom her friends brother may be, she had no interest in a man, in anyone, who couldn't control his anger over a small game of chess. She couldn't tell Nyla, as her heart was set on becoming her sister-in-law.

Duvaineth rolled her eyes, glad her friend couldn't read her mind "Oh is he now."

"Oh yes! He was promoted a few weeks ago. He had wanted to tell you himself at the (not sure what to call it)"

"Nyla, you know I'm not interested in him."

Nyla stopped mid braid, "Duvaineth, please. At least try? He's wanted to court you since adolescence. Even your father approves of the match."

Duvaineth jerked up, the comb clattering to the bench, a stream of silver hair streaming down behind to the floor.

Before she could protest, a slow knock echoed through the room, the two girls heads snapping towards the sound. The large door swung open and Duvaineth's father stepped inside.

Every time she saw him, Duvaineth thought she looked more and more like him; He would always disagree saying she looked like her mother. "It's the cheekbones!" He would say. "And that cheeky mouth of yours. That is certainly from your mother." After the verbal exchange, his face always took on a degree of sadness, leaving shortly after. He was always found hours later, sitting in the garden early into the morning.