Of Spinning Gold and Song

| Nine | The Flight

The sky grew darker and darker as the two of us jogged along. Without a horse, we had no option beyond running. As my feet pounded against the ground, I cursed myself for the umpteenth time for not wearing the boy clothes I had set out in. The green sundress I had worn instead, one of the two dresses I had brought and subsequently clothed myself with upon meeting the rest of the dragon hunting party, was far too restricting, billowing around my legs and making me worry about tripping every second. There was a reason I hadn't worn this blasted dress upon departure.

I knew pants weren't proper, but I didn't care. A lass going after a dragon wasn't proper either. Nor was a lass that could control the wind.

The long run gave me ample time to ponder where exactly my apparent magic had come from. For that was what it was: unquestionably pure magic. As much as I disliked Mam, as much as I loved to discredit her, I had to admit that for once she may have actually been right.

The wind will protect you.

To some extent she must have known what I was capable of. Considering what Bradyn had said about seeing the way the breeze reacted to me, it must have been fairly obvious to one who knew me as well as my own mam. Especially if she had already known it would be coming.

Magic never simply appeared. It was always inherited, passed down through bloodlines. And I was sure as hell it hadn't come from Pap. I loved him, but he was a paragon of an ordinary civilian.

Not Mam. Mam with her delusional ravings about being some sort of exotic lost princess, her insanely powerful singing voice, her tiny height, her grey eyes and platinum blonde hair that were so different from the auburn hair, green eyes, and rosy glow that literally everyone else I had ever met had. Mam, the exotic one, the one nobody knew anything about.

Whenever I had asked why Mam was different, where she was from, the answer had always been when you're older. We'll tell you when you're a little older.

But then I got older and she completely lost it.

The world was composed of three intelligent races. The dwarves were a bitter folk, some more powerful and adept at casting spells than others. They could vary, from the most powerful of powerful, to just a lick of magic, to completely ordinary. I didn't care to investigate more; I had had more than my fair share of dwarves with just one.

The elves, I was told, were a playful sort, inhabiting the woods and making their peace with the animals. They were fabled to have small magic related to life: simple healing and growth spells, and so on. I hadn't heard much of them; they mostly kept to themselves and very few humans had ever seen them.

Humans used to be like dwarves, of varying powers and magic. However, throughout the years, the powerful ones had risen out among the rest. Now, only the royals had magic; they had all grouped together to become our rulers and protectors while non royal magical blood became more and more diluted until it had eventually died out. Human magic was nowhere near as strong as the dwarfs, but was passed down through the royal bloodline.

Stories had it that both our king and prince could speak directly into others' minds. I wasn't sure what our queen could do. She had come from Ayraelia, a kingdom far to the west, to marry the king when she was my age, some twenty years ago. Like most arranged marriages, it was made not only to strengthen ties between the two kingdoms and forge a powerful alliance, but also to preserve the magic lineage.

If Mam had magic-- if she could control the wind with her voice-- then as much as I hated to admit it, it would bring some reason to her delusions. If she had magic, perhaps that was why she always raved about being a princess. Since only the royals were supposed to have powers, it would make sense why she thought she was a princess.