Crowned Queen

Division 1. Death is Natural.

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you,and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval,somewhere very near,just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again.

Read this poem over and over again. The death of her parents sent Eiireth down a winding road of War. "Eiireth, it's going to be alright." Andries, Eiireth's Older brother assured her, placing his hand on the low of her back. "How can you be so sure of events that have not occurred yet? How are you so wise brother?" The  young eight year old argued. "I guess you could say deceit and unholieness are his power."  The eldest of the three spoke, Daene, a beautiful young woman. The eight year old laughed at her comment, though being shushed multiple times. "Why have we been brought here anyways? I do not like this wardrobe. Its very unnatural for someone like me." The eight year old complained. "Eiireth your a princess you are supposed to wear wardrobe like that." The lady servant, Lodema Paytone said. The eight year old sighed and straightened her posture, trying to impress the warriors as she walked down the hall to the throne room, where her Mother and Father are supposed to sit. "Daene do you fear they'll never return?" said the now worrisome eight year old. "I do not fear what I know is true." The eldest replied. The eight year old now is looking down, a sad look on her face. They approach the throne room, where multiple soldiers kneel at their arrival. They walk up to the thrones and Daene and Andries sit on their former guardians throne. Eiireth, being the youngest, stands next to the throne, hand perched atop it. 

That night, Eiireth had already slipped into her nightgown and sleeping shoes, and had snuck out. Down the stairs, through the kitchen, down more steps, through the garden, around the lake, and stopped by the warrior training center. She approached a hut by the center and opens the door. Just then a blaring screech peaks out from the hut. "Sh! Moinury! Its just me!" she said. The screeching stopped and Eiireth slipped inside the hut. "Hello, Moinury, and of course, Fraethaynth." She pats the baby dragons head and walks over to the large dragon in the corner of the hut. "And Hello Cemrayrth, how have you been?" The dragon emerges from the corner to meet faces with Eiireth.  "Good, im guessing."

The two exit the hut and she mounts the dragon. The dragon starts fluttering her wings until ' off the ground and 45 feet in the air. Eiireth trusts her instincts and spreads her arms out almost as if she's flying. After about an hour, they alight next to the hut. She starts walking back to the castle and suddenly hears screams. She looks quickly and almost as if the dragon could hear her thoughts, the dragon starts flying and Eiireth, running. Without skipping a beat, Eiireth jumps on the dragon and they fly to the castle. 

Fire.