Weredragons

The Perfect Princess

A girl Frosta met in the store opened up a door and walked into the hall. It was long and tall, but the marble tiles were poorly done and falling apart. A weredragon sat on a big chair at the very end. Seven weredragons on either side stood at attention, all dressed in white with a brown sash; the signs of servants. The girl approached the chair and bowed before the person in it. He fingered a cube beside him.

"The Crumpa tells me you have not succeeded."

"No, my liege."

"Tell me. Why is that? I expected more from you, Cleasha, my daughter. All I ask from you is one simple task. Be rid of princess Frosta. Your mother would be ashamed."

"I ask you to recall, father, why I am the one left to survive, not she. And the Beta Droma is known as a belittling witch, not to mention the other. Their blood flows in her veins."

"Cleasha, do you remember the reason Clara now exists? The Beta truly is a witch, and the other a sorcerer. My brother saw in Clara something that disagreed with him. Why does her name begin with a C, Cleasha?" He got off his chair and went over to her.

"Why didn't you keep her?"

He whispered in her ear something no one else heard, then spoke louder.

"The time has come for us all to earn our rightful place in the chain of life. Clara does not know where she belongs, but certainly not with the Droma. She would have died were it not for me. And now, Cleasha, dearest one, if you are truly to come upon my throne someday, you must earn that right. Do not fail me again."

Cleasha bowed and left the chamber. She went to her own quarters, and opened the small room. Two skinny little pups lay in a bed with their mother, and one large male full-bred German Shepherd sat attentive at the floor of her bed. She held out her hands.

"Come here Fluff and Pow-wow." The little ones stumbled over to her and licked her all over. Every little rib showed, and it broke Cleasha's heart to see them this way. Only the father maintained his well-groomed and professional appearances of the four of them. Cleasha patted him proudly on the head. She had found the mother, Clicker, in the forest and had taken her home. The father she named Wolverine, after her half-cousin. Cleasha often took Wolverine on a hunting trip, for he could track other dogs well. Despising her dragon side, the girl often used these dogs to do her work for her. They could round up half a dozen stags in less than 20 minutes.

Those who knew Cleasha (which were few) gave her a reputation of her power over dogs. They often invaded small villages, bringing torches in their mouths to burn the houses down. The dogs were bloodthirsty and evil, but ready to obey Cleasha with the snap of her fingers.

It was on a Tuesday that Wolverine earned his place in her room. He had brought down a weredragon all by himself by causing him to stumble, ripping off his scales, and sinking his iron-stiff jaws into his back. Wolverine had black blood-stains on his teeth for a week after.

The Huge Weredragon palace may not be very big, but the Alpha's main pride was of the Arena. It was twice the length of a baseball field, with over one million seats. The Huge Weredragon had stolen it from his brother long ago. All around the borders were bar cages which held hungry animals tugging at their big chains. Events were held whenever they could decide upon two fighters.

When the Alpha Droma was in his younger, more reckless years he, too had an arena. As time grew on he saw that blood was not the only thing to gain in life. He took off the guards of the arena, and the Huge pack came in and claimed it for their own.

Cleasha lived a miserable life. When she was but a toddler, her father and uncle split sides and became enemies. Her mother died of sadness, and in the years to follow the girl wished that she did too, for her father fell into darkness and misery, so that he spent long days wasted, nursing his inner wounds, leaving her to do all his hard work.