Brightheart

Chapter 2

Brightheart woke even before the first owl went home, out of a nightmare of a thunderstorm where Rustblade became lost to her. The dragon opened one eye at her movements and sent her out to forage and hunt, after getting Brightheart to find a torch and lighting it for her. Brightheart checked her scale and adjusted it, then went off to hunt in the night. Her torch flickered in the wind and she shivered a little. Her mind wandered through her nightmare, and she wondered what had happened, but then an owl hooted somewhere above the trees and something rustled in the bush, startling Brightheart. A moment later, a herd of deer ran past. She drew her dagger and ran after them, catching up to the last deer in a few seconds. She killed it and dragged it back to Rustblade, then went out to forage for berries and vegetables.

Rustblade ate, and Brightheart thought he'd also had a nightmare, since he appeared nervous and startled easily.
"Are you alright?" Brightheart asked, and Rustblade slowly turned to face her, a strange look in his eyes.
"No," he sighed with a deep rumble in his throat, "but it's just a nightmare."
"What about?" Brightheart tilted her head and furrowed her brow, but Rustblade only shook his head and continued eating. When they were finished, Brightheart went back out into the forest. She walked and walked, then came across a stream. It was a thin little brook, filled with rocks. Brightheart crouched over and cupped her hands, splashing her face with the cool clear water. Filling her hands again, she drank and stayed a while in the peace. A bird sang and a breeze blew her hair across her face. Brightheart closed her eyes and breathed in, and when she opened them again she pushed herself up and continued walking. She meandered, wanting to reach all ends of the forest but at the same time still amble about.

After a while, Brightheart found a clearing, and saw that it was nearing midday. She went on, now keeping an eye out for berries and burdock. She stained her hands and mouth as she ate, and almost as soon as she had finished she spotted a burdock plant. Brightheart found a strong stick and began digging. When she finally managed to yank it out of the ground, she sat for a moment dusting off her gritty hands before eating it. When she finished, Brightheart moved to a sunny spot and wondered what Rustblade's nightmare was. Had he also dreamt of a thunderstorm? There was no way to find out, since he rarely explained his dreams. Then, with a sigh of dismay, Brightheart realised that Rustblade would be hungry. She stood up and ran back to the cave to ask what food he wanted, wishing to make him feel better by bringing whatever he wanted rather than what she got. And apart from that, no birds were singing and a fierce wind was blowing. Something was surely wrong.

The wind grew wilder the nearer to her home Brightheart ran. At last she reached her cave, but Rustblade wasn't there. He never went anywhere without her. A gust of wind forced Brightheart to stumble back, and a roar turned her face towards the sky. Rustblade was fighting another dragon, who was the colour of ravens. They each tried to burn the other, scratch each other, bring the other out of the sky.
"Rustblade!" Brightheart screamed, baring her teeth and growling as she curled her fingers.
"Go, dear one! Hide and don't let the dragon find you!" he roared, never losing focus on the other dragon, but Brightheart was sure that he was not going well. She bolted into the caverns with fists held so tight that her sharp nails dug into her hand, scampering through the twists until she found the deepest nook, and cramped herself in, piled Rustblade's old pile of gold around and left only a small gap between the gold and her corner. The passage into her space was small and the dragon was huge. Brightheart trembled, hoping the other dragon didn't bring her caverns down into rubble around her as he looked for her. If he looked for her. But he was a huge dragon, fighting Rustblade and winning. Brightheart was deep inside the mountain, and the roars reached even there. It sounded as if a relentless and vicious storm was raging on outside, with the roars as thunder and the wing beats great gusts of wind and torrents of rain. Brightheart took Rustblade's scale from her hair and stared at it. She wanted to carve something, but she was too scared to move from her spot and risk getting found.

For ages Brightheart sat in the dark with the pile of gold before her and the stone nook behind her. It felt like hours, but might only have been minutes. At last, there came one final deep shuddering roar and a resounding rumbling growl, and silence. A shiver racked Brightheart's body, and she continued sitting in her corner, not knowing if Rustblade was alright. For ages more she waited, preferring to wait than find him gone. Eventually the heavy thuds of the dragon came, shifting the gold. The tops of the piles slid down in chiming twinkling music, yet Brightheart could only focus on the uneven timing and heaviness of each of the dragon's steps.
"Brightheart? Where are you?" asked Rustblade, almost moaning.
"Here!" she called, and then the cave was filled with flame-light. Brightheart crawled out from her nook, sending the gold tumbling down, and as she drew herself up to standing, a tiara slid to her feet.

"Oh, I was about to look for that."
"Why? And are you alright? What happened?" Brightheart picked up the tiara. It was gold, like the rest of Rustblade's treasures, and set with a stone the colour of boysenberries.
"That dragon is evil, filled with rage and the desire to destroy. It came here because the castle on the hill has something it wants, probably gold. And believe it or not, it has a name and a hunter. It can itself be destroyed, though I pity the person who can for their time ahead, and wish I could keep them here in safety forever but I can't."
"What's its name?"
"I don't know," Rustblade sighed, then began to take a step forward but stumbled. Brightheart bit her lip.
"Are you alright?"
"No. The dragon managed to loosen a scale, and so I've got a huge gash on my foreleg."
"I'll get something for you. Stay here and don't move."

Brightheart ran through the stone halls and went through the small stores of herbs. She took a little of everything she knew would help, several canteens of water, and lengths of cloth. Back to the dragon she hurried, being careful not to drop any of the jars that she'd bundled into the cloth. When she returned to the dragon, she knelt down beside him and washed the wound before smearing the mixtures in and wrapping Rustblade's foreleg tightly with the cloth. Brightheart sat back for a moment, as Rustblade cautiously got up and lumbered over to one of the walls. He blew hard and layers of dust swirled around before settling. Painted on the wall were vague images of a knight holding a baby, and a dragon.
"What's that?" Brightheart pointed to the wall, and Rustblade stretched out his head to point with his snout. He pointed to the first group of images; the knight riding a horse with the Princess in his arms.
"The knight brought a baby to me on the night of the battle between the Dark Dragon, the werewolves and werecats, and the soldiers of King. The castle was burned and the King and Queen were killed. The castle has been rebuilt, as you would have seen, but it isn't used as a palace any more. The werewolf king – the werewolves and werecats won the battle – lives elsewhere. The knight said that the baby's name is Ailith and rode back through the forest," Rustblade explained, and moved on to the next image, "Here, I raise the Princess, and she grows. She is wild and untameable, a dragon in all but looks. She even has the habits of a dragon." Brightheart smiled at that, thinking that she was the same as the Princess in so many ways, wanting to meet her. Rustblade lumbered away and came back with his bad paw covered in something colourful.

"And now..." the dragon painted with his paw, and when he finished, he continued his explanation. "And now I tell you this, after fighting that evil dragon, too wounded to look after you any more, after showing you the paintings. I tell you that you are Ailith the Princess, and you must go to the castle to learn wizardry. I don't want to send you there, but I must, and you will find out why soon. I also hope that you can return to me sometime after you have left."
"How can I be Ailith if you have always called me Brightheart?"
"Because Ailith isn't much of a dragon name. Besides, you might be different and your future different if I didn't. Would you be such like me if you were Ailith not Brightheart?"
"I suppose not."
"And you do have such a bright heart. I don't advise you to be Ailith until you leave the castle."