Once

Prologue

Once, you could fly with the dragons, they once told us. Long ago, when dragons ruled the lands and not the brutish men of recklessness, the children could fly with the dragons. The dragons were a great race, one of the First Three races of Nadora. The Phoenix came first, and the spirits followed, and finally, the dragons were born. Dragons ruled the lands and skies before men did, but The Phoenix has always governed the realm, and with him were the spirits. 

Their scales were silver and gold, copper and bronze, onyx and clean white, a nursemaid shared her wondrous words with us one morning. They shimmered with life and love, with both pride and humility. I could never bring myself to believe such a fictitious thread of words. But my other half, my sister, drank the Tale of the Dragons in like a baby would drink breastmilk and honey. 

Wynter was not my twin. She was five years my brother's junior, and seven my own. Wynter was my opposite, if anything. Where my dark hair was the color of a raven's feathers, my little sister was graced with hair the color of sunlight seeping in through a glass window. And that was Wynter in entirety, really -- sunlight seeping in through a glass window. She was fair where I was not, and she took what others said to heart where I held no concern for others but her. Unfortunately, I was not the only one who held Wynter in high regard -- our brother, or rather my brother, favored her too. 

Haides was the firstborn son, but my father was not a traditional sort of king. He favored me above my brother, and so it was I who became destined for the throne. If my mother had been supportive of her husband, perhaps her demise would not have happened so quickly. But alas, she was a stubborn queen and her affections for our father had waned in the twenty years of their marriage. Of course, by the time Wynter was born of another woman, a witch called Gael, her affections had faded completely. Instead, Mother was hell-bent on having her only son rule over ... well, Nadora's Hell. So, we were raised rivals. 

-

Once, you could fly with the dragons, they once told us. 

I could never bring myself to believe it -- but I wanted to believe it as we ran through the woods that night. Though it was in the middle of the cold months of snow and frost, it was as if we were on fire. This was probably due to the fact that the forest was indeed scorching. 

Our brother had done it. 

He had taken the throne for himself.

Wynter's hand was sweaty against mine, and though I was worried for her, I could not tear my gaze away from the edge of the woods. Our escape. I squeezed her hand tighter and my feet scarcely touched the ground as we tore across the snow. I ignored the throbbing pain prickling at my skin and there came a gust of wind. Behind us, men were shouting, and I could hear the panting of dogs and stallions. All this to find us?

I almost felt special. 

But the only reason we were being chased after as we ran off, ran from the burning palace, was Wynter. Haides had decided to spare her life if she came and lived with him. 

Like hell that's happening, I thought to myself. 

Suddenly, there was no hand holding mine. I whipped around and Wynter was lengths away from me, knees planted into the white blanket of snow. I cursed myself for being careless and rushed toward her. 

"Come now, Wyn," I pleaded for her to get up and tugged at her arm. She shook her head, tears springing at her ice blue eyes. A shaky sigh escaped me and I bent down, wrapping my arms around her. If she could not run, I would carry her. 

"Princess Wynter!" Voices echoed around us. They were coming. 

I would not let them take her from me. I would not let Haides have a full-blown victory. 

"Persephone!" My sister shouted, and now we were just a few feet away from safety. I willed myself to run faster, but the cold had gotten the best of my feet, and we stumbled into darkness, leaving the burning woods behind for good.

Once, you could fly with the dragons, they told us. As we tumbled through blackness, the tales of dragons were all I could think of. Then there was no thinking, but just dreaming as we collided against a hard surface.