Short Story Collection

The Hidden Princess

It's not my fault. If I kept telling myself that enough, I'd eventually believe it.

Oh, who was I kidding? Here I was, the only bodyguard to Princess Tatiana, and both she and I were in mortal danger, chained in a dungeon in God knows what castle. The thought frightened me more than I ever thought possible. My father had given me one task when he'd died—one. And, within two weeks, I'd already managed to screw even that up. I was not looking forward to dying, and not just because I was afraid of death. I just wasn't crazy about the idea of my father's complaints for the rest of eternity.

"Tanya," I whispered, hoping the guards outside couldn't hear. "Don't worry, Princess. I will help you, get us out of here. I swear it. "

Tatiana didn't reply—her eyes were distant, seemingly lost in her own mind. I wished I could do the same. Every time I closed his eyes, I heard my father's dying breaths, the chocked words he had spoken only to me."She's different. So different. Special. She must be kept safe. Hidden. You must protect her. Protect her,Damon. Always." And that was it. My father said no more. His dying wish had been to keep the Princess safe. And now, because of my brilliant idea to take a "short cut" through a forest, we'd been captured, soon to be killed. I sighed in defeat and laid my head back against the cool rock wall behind me.

I didn't realized it drifted until I was rudely awakened by a low but deafening growling noise. My senses jumped into overdrive, and I glanced over at Tatiana, a small smile playing over her lips.

"Tanya, something is happening. We should—"

"You," she said, eerily calm, "should duck."

I was startled, taking a moment before I could respond."I... What?"

"Duck!" she repeated more urgently.

My reflexes forced me to curl inward, covering my head before the walls came crumbling down around us, the roof collapsing inward. Through the hole in the ceiling, I could see the silhouette of the thing that had caused the destruction. The beast...But that was impossible.

"Malia!" Tanya shouted—not to him, he realized belatedly, but to the creature. "Get down here and help us, you great oaf!"

The air around us stirred as the creature beat its great leathery wings and landed bafflingly lightly on the ground before us, having finally exited the shadows of the night sky above and into the dimly-lit dungeon. I could actually see the animal's terrifying but amazing features now.

"Damon," Tanya announced calmly, appearing at my side after having somehow escaped her own bonds. I felt the chains at my hands fall loose and made my way shakily to my feet, still dazed in shock and confusion—and awe. "This is Malia. She's my—"

"Dragon," I finished for her in amazement. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it. "It's a dragon. You command it. But... Then you are one of those heretics, the witches..." I trailed off, watching her face fall.

"Still want to protect me?" she asked apprehensively.

I bit my lip in hesitation, but a grin was spreading its way across my face, against my volition. "How could any man in his right mind turn down dragons?"

We made a clean escape that night, and we've been running ever since. Sometimes, Tanya says we should write about our adventures so that we never forget them. I don't know about you, but I find my memories filled with dragons and magic. What could be more memorable?