The Dragon King's Bride

Chapter 8 : Smoke and Ash

Everything around Zofia smelled like Oak and Ash. Like a sillage that had rubbed of on her at some point. She moved, but her body did not allow her to move more than a few centimeters. Zofia opened her eyes to gauge whether or not her husband, the king, was still in bed next to her. He wasn't. Her heart dropped before she reminded herself that the king had duties to attend to. If he married her for love, he would have stayed, he would have kissed her more, he would have smiled at her more. No, this marriage was political, convenient. 

Zofia tried to move again, to get up and leave his bedroom, but she ached all over. She sat up, but the pain between her legs was too much to bear like that. Instead she just fell back on to the pillows. It occurred to her that she got a moment to look at the king's room. The bedding and furniture were dark. As she felt the material around her she realized why, the color was hiding the holes that were burned all through the sheets. There were not just burns, but tears too. She tested the material. It was thick and strong, of the highest quality, likely specially made. She didn't know what he was, she just knew that Draegon was inhuman, but it didn't scare her. It had occurred to her when she had found out that he didn't age, and that he radiated fire. She hoped he was as happy with her, with what she could do. She could touch fire and not burn. A morbid thought settled when she realized that the material in her hands was likely tougher than her skin. Zofia threw the covers off her body and forced her limbs to push through the ache, to stand. She worked over to the mirror, wrapped in his sheet. She dropped it to her feet and took a look at herself. 

Zofia hadn't known that bruises and scabs could form that fast. Her thighs bore the majority of the bruises, and her skin was scratched in a manner similar to the sheets, like he had dug his claws into her. She touched the soft underside of her breast where he had left imprints of his teeh in her flesh. Zofia tightened the sheet around her once more. It dawned on her that this was to be her life, that no other man could possibly want her after what Draegon had done to her. Zofia slapped her hand over her raw lips and choked back a sob as she realized, it was her birthday. 

Mephis had searched and searched, but he was determined to find. He clutched a napkin in his hand, one that was stained with black blood. It was the napkin that Draegon had pressed to Zofia's hand after Mephis had cut her. He was finally where he thought he would get his answers from. It was a very small, run down cabin. He had two men with him, in case something went wrong. A man opened the door, elderly and sickly. He realized who was before him and quickly gave a bow. 

"My lord! To what do I owe this pleasure?" The man asked. It had taken Mephis the whole morning to ride out to the edge of the woods to find this man, he was not in the mood for pleasantries nor small talk. 

"I am here to find out about the girl you sold at the market, for ten pieces of gold." Mephis stepped inside the cabin, looking around at the state it was in. There were no other children. Draegon told his father that Zofia had a younger sister, possibly a mother. This man lived alone. He was shaking as he pulled some water off the fire. 

"Yes, Zofia. I sold her because the king wanted her and I wanted the money." The man defended himself. He cast his eyes to the ground. 

"Never mind that. I want to know about this." He slapped the napkin on to the table. The man snatched it up and looked at it, inspecting it. 

"It's true then?" He wanted to know from Mephis. 

"You tell me." He insisted in return. "What is she?" He prodded. 

"I don't know, my lord. Her mother left after the second one was born. She knew more, said her mother was something odd, like a witch maybe. I didn't believe her none, till one day our barn burnt down with the girl in it. We found her in the rubble covered in soot and ash. Alive." He cowered. "The other one, Faye, she was a strange child too, my lord. Killed her myself, I did." He admitted. Mephis took his gloves, off, tossing them to one of his men. They stood back, pacing backwards unceasingly as Mephis kept tossing clothes out of the open door at them. He shuddered, his skin separating and cracking to reveal a lava-like fire underneath. His bones cracked loudly and shuddered as his form changed. The house burst open as the beast inside it became too large to contain. It spread it's red, leathery wings out and let out a shrill roar.