History's Shadow I: Legends Born (Tahir Edition) #Wattys2014

Chapter Twenty-One - Smokey (2/2)

Tahir didn't trust Smokey to get himself home. Better to keep an eye on him to prevent any more flying through the village and scaring the common folk. He'd speak to Gavin and King Robert to ask for Declan's release, and then decide what to do from there. He wasn't convinced that there was some evil about to be released upon the world, but he was certain that Declan believed it. Declan was a strange man but not necessarily a dangerous man. Tahir didn't feel there was justification in imprisoning him for picking weeds from the forest.

He reached the clearing and found Smokey sleeping under a tree, his body curled up like a snake. Oraden and Meelix kept watch not too far away. Oraden didn't like the idea of having to guard a stupid dragon while being excluded from meeting with the King to discuss plans that would obviously include him. However, Tahir explained it was best this way, given how the King felt about magic. He couldn't very well bring Smokey with him; that would be disastrous. Meelix was too small to watch Smokey alone. Oraden was the only logical choice. If Smokey became impatient and wanted to leave, Oraden was smart enough to come up with a way to keep him there or at least race back to the castle to report that he'd left. Oraden reluctantly agreed to stay with Meelix and the dragon.

* * * * *

Destiny gazed into the woods, dreaming of another life. From her window she could just barely make out flecks of Tahir's house peeking through the leaves. It wasn't really spying; she trusted him and his friends. Despite their fight a few days ago, she couldn't resist watching him. To see him gallop through the woods fueled her imagination. She wondered where he was going, who he would meet, and what they talked about. She particularly enjoyed watching him practice his sword play. It was easy to spot one of Gavin's pupils by their technique. He moved his sword with strong, fluid movements as he fought imaginary enemies. On occasion, she would even take up a sword and mimic him.

The treehouse, however, had been vacant most of the day. In fact, he'd been quite distant lately: avoiding the castle, hardly taking any shifts as guard. When she did see him, he nervously looked at the floor as she past. Why was he suddenly making things so difficult? It wasn't fair. All these years she spent alone in this castle; not physically alone, there were always people conducting business within the castle walls. Yet she always felt alone. Until Tahir. Since he came into her realm, it was as though she had stepped into a fantasy land. The life she dreamed of since she was a little girl, filled with magic, mystery, beauty and romance; the life she always wanted, but never believed she'd experience was right outside her window.

Now Tahir was ruining everything with talk of her father marrying her off. He knew nothing of her family's affairs; who was he to tell her where her place was? Or what was appropriate for that matter? She sighed and rested her chin in her hands as she leaned out the narrow window. She was growing increasingly weary of people telling her what she could and could not do.

She was stewing in her frustration when she noticed a butterfly glide nearby. She moved her goblet of wine onto the window sill hoping the sweet aroma would draw it closer. As predicted, it landed on the rim and used its antennae to examine the drink. Like a cat, she pounced, catching it in her hands before it could escape. She raised it to her face and watched it flutter madly between her interlocked fingers. She positioned her fingers to look like a cage as she observed her prisoner. Her eye caught the flicker of a candle. One of her eyebrows lifted and she smiled at her captive as she glided across the room toward the pungent flame.

Holding the butterfly by one wing, she slowly moved it toward the flame. First, just close enough that she could feel the heat radiating on her hand. Then she moved closer. The butterfly tried to break free, struggling against her giant grip. She imagined it was crying and screaming, so small she couldn't even hear it. She gritted her teeth as she moved closer still, the small flame burning her fingers. How painful it must be for the poor, poor butterfly.