The Curse of The Darkest Flame

1

The Lies of a Trusted Soldier

Lightning struck outside the city’s stronghold, leaving only the mother to flinch. The guards weren’t allowed to react. Any slight movement from them could result in an early retirement. A retirement to death, that is. There are strict laws to follow in this castle, but no one questions them, as working amongst the King and Queen is truly an honour that no one can argue against.
“Mother, you’re hurting me,” the girl protested as her mother tugged at her silky black hair. It was like an ocean of black ribbons which glistened under the candlelight. The girl was too old to have her mother brushing her hair, but she didn’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter.
“I’m sorry, Cynthia, but you know you have to look presentable for your future husband. Might I add that Andreas is a wonderful young man who would make an excellent king one day,” her mother said as she continued to tug at the girl’s hair. Lightning struck again, forcing the woman to tug even harder at Cynthia’s waves. The girl did not flinch, she didn’t even cry out in pain.
“You may not add,” Cynthia protested. Her tone was dry, and she knew this would annoy her mother, so she waited for the arguing response back. However, she did not get one, only the brush scratching at the back of her head. There was no need to brush so hard. Cynthia knew her mother lacked tenderness, but that didn’t mean she should be tugging with so much force.
The big arched doors groaned as a muscular man with dripping armour poured into the room. It was not just water sliding down his iron protection but blood too. He looked exhausted as if he had run the whole way up to the Kingdom tiers.
“Nathair, are you alright?!” The Queen stood up instantly and rushed over to the man, abandoning Cynthia as she did so.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said, while panting heavily. His words sounded brave, but Cynthia couldn’t help but sense there was something off about the way he was acting.
“Nonsense! Now sit down.”
She helped him over to a cracked—but stable—wall. The tapestry hung high above his head, stopping his dripping hair from ruining its royal ancient worth. Instead, he let his hair drip onto the Queen’s white and golden dress. Gold now mixed with blood.
“Oh no, I’m getting blood all over your dress,” he said, inappropriately trying to brush it off. Cynthia watched in disgust. He has no right to touch the Queen with his filthy hands. It doesn’t matter if he’s the King’s most trusted soldier. Cynthia had picked the brush up subconsciously and started to squeeze it in her hands like some stress reliever.
“Don’t worry; I have plenty more,” the Queen said. Cynthia was shocked at her mother’s lack of reaction. He was clearly out of line. Anyone else and she would press charges against their actions.
“Can someone please get this man a cloth!” she shouted. One of the guards moved for the first time; he had been there all day to keep both Cynthia and the Queen safe during the battle. She watched him as he rushed away to find a maid.
“My lady, you won’t want this blood on you,” he croaked. He looked her in the eyes with what was supposed to be sincerity, but Cynthia saw nothing but lies and deceit. She had never liked this man. All he wanted was for her to marry his son so he could make his way into the Royal Family. He claims to be the best soldier in the city—minus the King of course—but she couldn’t help but feel as though everything he is doing is fake. She didn’t know how; she could just feel it in her gut. Every time she saw him; her stomach would ache.
“Why not?” the Queen asked, looking down at her bloodied clothes and then back to the man. He closed his eyes and turned his head dramatically as if it pained him to speak.
“I have some news that will come as quite a shock,” he explained, though it made things even more confusing rather than answering any questions. Cynthia rolled her eyes at the man’s terrible acting. Her mother was a fool for not noticing it like she did.
“What is it?” she asked, waiting anxiously for him to respond.
“The King—your husband, he … eh …” He paused and closed his eyes again. “He has fallen.”
The Queen took a deep breath in and stood up hastily. Even Cynthia was intrigued now as the pit in her stomach began to twist.
“My husband? This cannot be? What happened?!” Her breathing had now become fractured, and she pressed her hands together, close to her mouth, as if she were praying for this to be some lie.
“The King and I were battling against the goblins on the cliffside past the river, until we saw an opportunity to fight their leader. I went around the side,” he moved his hand as if he were some wise old man telling the tales of his past adventures, “and the King went around the other side. We finally met in the middle and fought the beast.” He clapped his hands together and for the third time, he closed his eyes again. “But unfortunately, we were outmatched. Before I knew it, the creature had stabbed a hole in your husband’s back. There was nothing I could do. I tried to race over to him, but a whole horde of goblins appeared, so I had no choice but to run.”
The man went silent. The only sound that could be heard was of the Queen crying. She had now fallen to her knees, crumpled, and become really small.
“He fought valiantly to the end,” the man added.
Cynthia didn’t believe him. She didn’t know whether this was grief or her hatred for the man, but she refused to believe that anything could take down her father. He was the greatest and strongest man she knew. Nineteen years of her life spent worshipping him was not some big lie; she knew he was great. And if anything was to take him down, it would be a far bigger threat than some goblin king.
“You’re lying!” Cynthia said. She did not cry; she felt no reason to. If her father were dead, then sure. But he isn’t, and she is sure of that.
“It’s not a lie,” the man responded.
“Cynthia, he tells the truth. I trust him,” the Queen insisted. She choked on her tears a little as she spoke. The man knelt down and put his arm around her. This disgusted Cynthia even more, which encouraged her to stand up hastily. She still clutched the brush in her hand, tempted to throw it at the man. But she didn’t. Cynthia thought it would only get her into trouble, so instead, she stormed away.
“Cynthia, where are you going?” her mother cried out. Cynthia did not respond; she didn’t even look back. She didn’t want to see Nathair holding her mother for comfort. She did not want to see her mother seeking comfort in his false lies, so she continued to leave.
She was now running as she reached for a cloak—the one she chose was black like her hair—and she wrapped it around her body almost as quickly as she bolted out of the castle doors. She ran as if it were about to collapse on top of her. It was not, of course, but the way Cynthia’s heart tightened, she felt as though it might.

***

The building seemed far less magical tonight as the rain darkened its concrete exterior and dampened all life existing outside. It was usually filled with so much life that people would dance around even with the rain. Rain was what made it fun. You could splash in puddles and stick your tongue out trying to catch the drops that fell. Lately, the city was quiet. It was as if the people knew there was something going on before they were told.
There had been a lot of battles that had taken place recently. The soldiers were leaving almost every week to fend off against all kinds of things. From monsters to men, even magical beings at times. It was getting harder to fight, as the numbers of soldiers were dwindling. Now that the King was dead, there almost seemed no point to keep going at all. People had a right to hide in their huts to keep dry from the rain. Even the plants that grew bright during the day; they were dropping down from the weight of life’s rain, crushing their gentle heads. Maybe being locked inside was the only safe way to live.
The darkness that now haunted the city only made Cynthia feel sick, so she left it behind. She didn’t want to look at the place her father had raised her in. She didn’t even want to think about her father at all. He can’t be dead. What will happen now? she thought. Am I going to have to find a husband so he can rule the Kingdom? That was the last thing she wanted to happen. She knew her mother would force Andreas on her, which was the worst decision anyone could ever make. Andreas was Nathair’s son and an ignorant, spoilt brat. He would only ruin the Kingdom and give Nathair exactly what he wanted: a place in the Royal Family.
“Nope, not happening!” she protested as if her mother was listening into her thoughts. She wished her mother could hear her thoughts, then maybe she could finally see Nathair for the corrupted man that he was. Her mother didn’t see it, but then he never showed his other side to her, the other side that Cynthia couldn’t ever explain. But when the King or Queen wasn’t around, he becomes just as ignorant as his son—yet, there is something different about it. Andreas is at least honest with his ignorance; he flaunts it, as that is his personality. But there is something so sneaky about Nathair. He hides his real self and does things when he thinks no one is looking. Cynthia once caught him searching through her mother’s jewellery box. There was also that time he sat on the King’s throne when he and the Queen were out. There is just something about him that Cynthia knows is filled with lies. She just can’t prove it.
She had stopped running now but continued to walk. She was hidden under a blanket of trees that formed a new sky above her head. The odd drops still fell on her long hair, taming the waves, but nothing too drastic. These trees have the biggest leaves known to mankind; their leaves are in the shape of teardrops and are the size of a singular horse wagon. Even the trunks are different, as they are twisted at the roots right to the sprouted sky. They were never cut down as they were believed to be healers. No one knows what happens; all they know is that they enter the forest hurt and exit feeling better, not having any recollection of pain during the stroll.
The forest only frustrated Cynthia now. If her father had been taken here, then maybe he could have lived. She would be running into his arms right now and he would be telling her a new story from his recent battle. Instead, she is alone. Alone in a forest with no life in it. The creatures that danced on these lands were hiding, too, like the people in the village. They had shelter under the tear-shaped leaves so they had no reason to hide, but they could sense the sadness that had fallen and knew that their protection could be at risk. The King was always really fond of the creatures that roamed in the woods. He believed they should be protected, as everyone has a purpose. Other people see them as a threat, even though nothing ever happens unless the creatures are getting hunted. Even the predators don’t cause any harm. They only attack when they feel threatened.
Cynthia had reached an end to the forest edge. She doesn’t know whether she went straight ahead from the Kingdom or not. She was mindlessly walking as her mind whirled with different angry thoughts, but she thinks she may have strayed slightly northwest from the castle. Maybe. She walked and turned when something got in her way. Wherever she was, she had spotted a cave on the side of a mountain. It wasn’t too high up from the ground, but enough that involved a fairly decent amount of walking. Or climbing, Cynthia corrected.
She wasn’t sure why she was drawn to the cave, but she reached the wet rock and started to manoeuvre her way up. She hopped onto loose stones without the care of death if she slipped. She believed that if that was her fate, then so be it. If she decided she didn’t want it to be the end, then she could crawl into the forest and regain the health that was needed to move on.
She finally found a stable patch of land that allowed her to walk over to the cave. Cynthia didn’t know why she was going in there exactly; a dark cave usually means some form of danger—but this one was calling to her. Maybe there are goblins in there. Maybe this was leading to revenge for her father. Who knows really?
She slipped into the shadowy tunnel and wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t see. She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust, which didn’t take long as she spent her life in a dark castle only lit up by candles—candles that are too much effort for her to burn. So a dark cave was just like home really, and the evil unwanted creatures that may be inside are merely Nathair and his son.
She went deeper and deeper into the cave, until she reached some glowing crystals that lit up a crevasse. There was a little pull of water that was glowing too. This attracted Cynthia over. As she stared into the water, she noticed a sparkle in the shape of a golden coin. In fact, there were hundreds of sparkles in the water. Cynthia analysed the floor then followed the trail of coins and gold to a small pile of jewels.
She went over to touch it but was stopped by the sounds of an abrupt growl. She turned hastily and couldn’t see anything. She continued to stare until a shadow caught her eye.
“Who’s there?” she asked. She wasn’t so much frightened as she was curious. The shadow moved towards her like a disease spreading through a village. It became more apparent that this wasn’t a shadow, but a tiny dragon instead. The creature was about the size of a toddler and had scales the colour of coal. Its eyes glowed purple in the dark, which could be mistaken for the crystals that layered the walls. Cynthia found herself feeling confused; it took the form of an adult dragon as its features were well developed and its wings-for-arms were muscular like an adult’s would be, but it was too small.
“I take it this is your gold?” she smiled. The creature only growled, but its height made it seem less intimidating. “You can stop with the growling; it does nothing for you. In the shadows, fair enough, but next time, don’t reveal yourself too quickly. If I were a thief, I would have kicked you and stolen your gold rather than run in fear.” The creature growled again, but as it did, smoke was seeping out of its scales. The smoke was thick and started to coat the creature’s body till it was no longer visible.
“What are you doing?” she asked, as if the dragon was going to answer her. The smoke grew bigger and bigger until it reached the roof of the cave. The creature growled again, but this time it was louder. The sound grumbled around the enclosed space, using its walls as a drum.
“See, now that could scare someone,” she laughed. Her laugh drifted off into the darkness of the smoke as she waited to see what the dragon was doing. She did not know what to expect. Maybe it was taking its gold and making a break for it. Maybe it was trying to seem more intimidating to scare her away. Cynthia wondered if leaving would help the creature.
Cynthia took this as a sign to go and moved a step forward. Before she knew what to do, the smoke burst out to the walls. She stumbled back and hurled herself down, smacking her back against the floor, leaving a red gash underneath her silky dress.
The black mist started to fade to reveal a larger version of the dragon she had first seen.
The beast was now so big, and its wings were brushing against the wall. The rocks crumbled and broke away from the ground as it growled aggressively. Its eyes seemed brighter, which made the scales immerse itself into the darkness.
The purple-eyed creature moved its head like a snake, closer and closer to Cynthia. She could feel her heart pounding; the head was big and had four horns which curved upward, creating a spear-like weapon which would puncture someone if they were to run into the head. Or the head ran into them. Even the eyes seemed intimidating. Cynthia liked the colour purple; she was even wearing it. But there was something about it being in the form of a dragon’s eye which made it intimidating. Maybe it was the sharp point or the slit that ran down the middle, Cynthia wasn’t sure. All she knew was that it scared her.
“Yes, that is definitely b-better—” Her voice quivered as she spoke. “Do exactly that when someone steals from you!” The creature continued to growl, but it did not attack to Cynthia’s surprise. It halted on the spot and watched her—it merely stared like a foreigner would when someone of a different language would speak. It was as if it had never experienced someone talking before. Either that or it had never experienced someone talking before they were murdered. Cynthia assumed most people would scream or cry at the sight of big teeth heading for their head.
“I hope I am a good enough meal for you. And after you eat me, please eat Nathair! I refuse to see him or his son on the throne.” Cynthia started to ramble to herself as the creature pulled its head back with further curiosity. “Not that I’ll see anything because I’ll be dead.” Cynthia tried to laugh but was stopped by the dragon getting ready to roar. Its tone was deafening as it filled the whole cave with its frustration. Cynthia waited for the end. She knew once it was done, it was going to eat her, so she waited patiently until it stopped.
The creature finished, and almost scoffed at the girl. Black—mixed with a deep purple smoke—puffed out of the nose as it stopped and stared. The beast did not eat her, or even attempt to do so; it just watched as if she were too easy a kill, so easy that it didn’t seem fair.
“Are you not going to eat me? I’m from the Royal Family. I bet eating royal flesh would be good.” She waited for a response that she knew she wouldn’t get. The creature continued to watch her. “You’re not going to kill me, huh? Shame, it would have been a cool way to go.” Cynthia pushed her body against the closest wall she could find and sank into it. Rocks were stabbing into her purple dress, but she didn’t seem to care—it was as if her near death had made her numb.
“I even think Rosalie would be impressed by that one. Death by dragon, now that is an honourable way to go, unlike death by goblin. I could have accepted it if he had been slain by a dragon, but a goblin just isn’t believable—”
Still keeping its eyes on her, the creature curled up against a wall too. It held its tail under its wings, like she held her legs in her arms. She didn’t seem fazed by the huge beast that sat before her, because it didn’t seem fazed by her.
“If you see a goblin king, please kill it. It might be strong, but then you’re a dragon who can change sizes. I’m sure you can take him on.” Cynthia stared at the beast as if it were an old friend. She listened to its breathing and noticed a heavy whisp inside; it sounded like there was a lot of hot air stirring around.
“I wish I could breathe fire, then maybe someone would finally listen to me.”
The creature decided to get up again. The muscles tightened as it pulled its body upright. It was now moving closer to her, keeping its eyes locked on hers—she wondered if it didn’t trust her. Maybe it was thinking she was planning to make a run for it the minute it turned around.
“I suppose even with that, no one listens to you either. They only try to kill you instead.” The creature sniffed her face, trying to get her scent in its head. That, or he was planning to eat her after all. Cynthia hesitated as the hot air from its nose brushed her face.
“With your intimidation skills and my words, we would probably make a pretty good team.” She smiled and looked to the creature; she could feel a connection when staring back into its deep purple eyes. She was trying to look through it as it stared through her soul.
“Princess Cynthia? Princess, where are you?!” a voice shouted from outside. The dragon growled at this and for the first time, looked away from Cynthia.
“They’re searching for me!” Cynthia panicked. “You should hide!” The creature groaned with frustration. “Please hide. They will try to kill you!” The creature looked back to her for a moment, then smoke started to seep through its scales again. The smoke engulfed the beast until it eventually disappeared and revealed a smaller version of the dragon she had previously seen, though this time it was even smaller. So small it could fit into the palm of her hand. The creature screeched and scrambled away into its pile of gold.
Cynthia took that as a sign to leave. If they found her in there, they would take the dragon’s gold and she didn’t want that. It had spared her life, so the least she could do was make sure no one got inside its home.