Blooming Rose (Book 1): Memories

Chapter 2: Obsidian

I watched as Rose fell into a deep sleep. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep, the total opposite of what she looked liked when she was awake. Rose was still, technically, a child. She still had innocence. I don't know much about humans, but I know that a normal fourteen year old girl would probably live in a house with parents, go to school, hang out with friends, and live a peaceful life. Even in Fantasy, a normal life is possible. And yet, this girl was betrayed by people she cared about and is now living in a dragon's cave.

I could see her twitching in her sleep. This happens every night. Every time she falls asleep, she dreams. I never know what she dreams of though. Rose had told me that I am the only one allowed to love her and I'm the only one she loves. She says that if she ever loves again, she could face the same despair she faced that one Autumn night, the night her world fell apart. I am the only risk she takes, because she trusts me. I cannot betray that trust. I have sworn to protect her, to guide her. I will fill those empty promises Henry made to Rose, but didn't bother to carry them out. I will carry on Mark's promises to her, the ones he could not fill because of his illness that killed him.

I have lived alone for a long time. The average life span for a dragon is 200 years. An dragon descended from an Oracle Dragon must carry out his duties at age fifty. For a dragon, that is quite young. I ran away when I was thirty. I did not want to live with the stress of Prophecies and Oracles. I found this cave and I lived here alone for fifteen years. That was when Rose came to me.

I remember how she looked clearly. Her dark, blonde hair was tangled, she had cuts and bruises everywhere. She had a dirty cloth pressed to her arm and it was dripping with blood. Her face was red and blotchy from crying. When Rose and I got to know each other better, and she told me her backstory, that was when I remembered her arm. I remember nursing it back to health, but it was a very deep cut. It took quite a while to heal fully, but it still left a scar. I had asked her how it happened and she told me it was her father. I had never met her father, but I hated him. I despised him for abusing Rose, and yet she still loved him somehow. I hated Henry for turning her away in her time of need, for telling her his empty promises, fueling a false hope.

No matter what, I would protect Rose. Even if it killed me.