Arthur stands in the wake of the family breakdown. He can hear Elra rattling off behind him; how Amalya was the cause of all the problems she had to face.  He closes his eyes to escape. This was too much, the straw that broke the horses back. There is only so much a man could take. No side was the right side but the difference was that one was defenseless.  He did not need to choose sides, he did not need to do anything but walk away. He had his own ambitions to focus on and they were important to him to get right.  Elra was married now and would be one less problem to deal with. Of course, he loved her but to love a sister and to live with them were two completely different circumstances.  

The tone in Amalya’s voice told Arthur that she would do something drastic.  How many times must he rescue her? How many times must he feel responsible for her actions? He was not being selfish he just wanted some time for his life.  Without looking back, Arthur quietly leaves the room.  He walks down the hallway towards the dissipating crowd of guests.  Some look at him with questions about what has just transpired.  He does not respond to them; he did not feel a need to.  He hopes Elra has a happy life with Lancel, but he did try and kiss Amalya. There was not an ounce of truth in what Lancel had told them. He was a liar and he did do everything Amalya said he did. Did it really matter now? Elra would never believe the truth and even if she did, she would have no choice but to stand by her man. There were some secrets better left in the dark. Sometimes the truth was not worth knowing.

He takes a step towards the main hall.  One of the pretty ladies he had danced with earlier approaches him, “Is everything all right with your sisters?”

“ Nothing is ever all right with them.”
The lady sinks with sorrow, “I am sorry my lord. If there is anything I can do?”

“You are kind but I am sure they will work it out.”

“ I was not inquiring about their well being but…”

A heavy hand land on Arthurs’ shoulders.  He turns around to see his grandfather standing behind him, “Forgive me, but I must speak with my grandson.”

Arthur turns back towards her and bows politely, “I am sorry my lady.”

She gives a disappointing smile and bows back before he is carted away into solitude.

The two men take refuge out of site towards the back of the hall. Horace’s hand was very forceful.  He releases him looking out over the hall before speaking in hushed voices, “You have to go after your sister.”

Arthur shakes his head, “ I am done rescuing her.”

“You don’t understand,” Horace huffs loudly, “The look in her eye…she’s not comin’ back.”

He genuinely did not know what to say to make his message clearer. Amalya was his sister whom he loved dearly, but how could he ask so much of him. He did everything to keep her safe but she was desperate to break away.  Now was her chance and he did not want to keep her from it.  He takes his grandfathers arm to comfort him, “There will be little I can say to change her mind.”

“She can’t be alone out there,” He grasps Arthur’s arm, "She’s not safe."

"Maybe she should be on her own..."

"NO!" His voice shrinks back down to a whisper. Arthur can barely make out his words, “There’s something that I’ve been carrying with me; something that I swore never to speak of.”

His eyes narrow, Arthur tries to prepare himself for what he is about to say, “Amalya is not your father’s daughter.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know the legend…the Lost Dragon Lord.”

Arthur nods his head, waiting for this to become clearer to him.

“The story in your mother’s book, it’s the real story. Your mother she…she wasn’t killed by a dragon.”

He was off his rocker. Drunk more than likely. Arthur smiles with enthusiasm, “You had too much wine.”

He grabs Arthur’s shoulders and brings him squarely in front of him, ”Now you listen to me boy. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t have to. Your sister leaves this place and there’s no one to protect her. If someone see’s her…if the damn Dragon Guard get a hold of her they’ll know what she is! They’ll kill her. I’m not pulling your leg so wipe that damn smile off your face and listen!”

Arthur watches his Grandfather. His breath was labored and his eyes were clear. He was genuine; at least he believed that he was. His lowers his hands from Arthurs shoulders and waits in silence. Arthur glances back towards the hall, still unsure what to do.

“Arthur, you listening to me?”

He hesitates but eventually nods his head.

“I wouldn’t be asking you to do this if I didn’t have to. I wouldn’t be telling you all this if there was any other choice.”

“What do you mean mother was not killed by a dragon?”

Horace sighs deeply, pain striking his face, “I mean just that. The legend is false, at least what is most important.”

“How did she die then?”

“It doesn’t matter how she died…”

“It matters!”

“Your father couldn’t save her, not her and your sister. He could only save one.”

Only one; He chose to save Amalya.

“Damn it I’m not here to justify your father! He left here for all the wrong reasons the damn fool! Listen to me, your sister needs you.”

“I have a life here, a future. I can’t just leave because you believe something I am finding hard to believe myself.”

“I can’t tell you everything.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no time!”

“What is she then? Who is her father if not my own? This man…”

“Not a man,” Horace’s face grows grave, “A dragon. The Lost Dragon Lord IS her father.”

Arthur’s heart stops. This could not be true, it can’t be true. It didn’t make any sense but what would his reasons be for lying? A dragon, that was not something one would just say. Not unless they were crazy or telling the truth.

“Arthur…”

“You’re lying.”

“I wish I was.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw the mark. When your father first brought her home. I saw it. I saw her. She was glowing Arthur, like no child I have ever seen before. The mark was there; we cannot see it now but it’s there. Behind those gold eyes of hers…those unnatural golden eyes.” Horace closes his eyes as if trying to forget he ever muttered the words.

“The Sol Sickness?”

“All lies, it was the only way I could think of to keep her safe.” Horace takes a hurtful breath, “I’m sorry. I would go with her but I’m old. I can’t protect her anymore. It’s hard enough keeping her safe here but out there…I’m too old.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to now but you will.” He takes Arthurs hand and looks at him with desperation.

“I’m sorry I must ask this of you. I know you have a lot to leave behind, but I can’t bear the thought of her out there alone. I can’t loose another part of her. Your mother she…she was my little girl. You three are all I have left of her. I can’t lose any part of her, even if your sister is part dragon she’s still part of your mother. Part of you.”

Arthur’s mind draws a blank. None of this was believable. His grandfather believed it that was certain. He believed it so much he was begging him for help. It wasn’t possible. She was too scrawny and not strong at all. Dragonborn’s are strong, hard and merciless. They have no remorse or feeling they just live for combat and the rite to glory. He had never heard of a girl Dragonborn either, they did not exist. This made no sense. This had to be a lie.  ‘Why would he lie? Why would he say this if it were not true?” Was it just so he would stay with her; to protect her? He would not need to make up such a story to convince him to go with her. ‘I would be leaving behind my future…my opportunity to make something of myself.’ What was most important to him; his future or the fate of his sister?

He looks at his grandfather. His eyes carry every weight left bared on him. He was desperate. This was not a lie, this was not something fabricated by wine. This was real. Why was it so hard to believe? He didn’t know what to do; which path he should turn down. Horace pulls his arm again, “Please Arthur.”

Amalya rushes into her home, now a shadow of what it was this morning.  She goes to her room and grabs a small pack from under her bed.  She quickly begins to fill it with clothing and supplies, not being concerned about neatness.  She looks around her room for another pack.  Her eyes fall upon herself in the reflection of a mirror.  She looks herself over; her once pristine blue dress now covered in dirt and blood.  Her hair was a mess and her face adorned with dark circles under her eyes.  She begins to tear off her dress, piece by little piece. As the handfuls of fabric begin to fall away, a feeling of nostalgia takes hold of her.  It was an incredible freeing experience.  She was not just destroying a dress, but also finally breaking free. She would begin again and experience vast amounts of adventure and excitement. She would no longer be a shadow in the dark. What she would experience from leaving this place she did not know but she would welcome whatever comes her way with open arms.

She rummages through her remaining garments and begins to dress appropriately for her travels. She wraps her arms and legs up with the softest wool.  Her boots slip on with ease. Her fingers quickly wrap up her hair into a tight braid. The final touch, Amalya grabs her cloak and throws it over her shoulders.  The hood falls perfectly onto her head. Her hands carefully frame it to her face. A figure casts a reflection in the mirror. She turns. Arthur stands in the doorway, looking calm but tormented at the same time.  They stare at one another for a moment without uttering a word.  Ignoring his presence, she continues to get ready to leave.  She slings her pack on her back and reaches for the second. Arthur’s hand suddenly meets hers on top of the burlap fabric. She glares at him,” You cannot stop me from leaving.”

He looks at her with all seriousness, “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

She shakes him off and walks out the door, “I’m don’t want you to come with me.”

He storms after her and grabs her again.  She wheels around and gets in his face, “Just let me go Arthur!”

“And where do you plan on going by yourself?”

She is silent for a moment before she pulls out their father’s letter from her pouch, “I’m going to find father.”

Arthur snickers with amusement, “You know nothing of the world beyond the river.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m your brother, it’s my job to know!”

She turns and makes for the door again.  Arthur stands firmly by the table, “Don’t be foolish.”

“I’m not! I’m being sensible! After tonight no one want’s me here! What kind of life can I expect here? That is not the life that I want to know. You have a future here. You cannot abandon it for me. I won’t let you.”

Arthur rushes towards the door and stops her, “You’re not going out that door without me.”

Amalya glares at him, “Watch me.”

She pushes him out of the way and begins to walk into the night.  Her pace is quick as she begins to leave the only life she has ever known behind her.  She does not look back to see if Arthur was following her.  She did not want him to follow her. He could have a good life here; all his dreams were here, his aspirations…there was no need for him to leave the city.

The only footsteps she hears are her own. A small part of her feels betrayed that Arthur did not come after her. It was bittersweet but was for the best. He did not need to trouble himself with her anymore. As she reaches the edge of the city, her nerves begin to take hold. As much as she wanted to leave she has never felt so terrified. “Life will only be better once I leave,” she tells herself, “I must do this.”  The River Thane quietly runs in front of her, the only thing standing between her and the Rau countryside.  Amalya looks into the night ahead of her, wondering what dangers lay ahead.  She was scared…even though she really wanted to go she was terrified to leave.   She would miss her room, her brother’s sword fighting lessons, grandfather’s serious but sweet face…her grandfather…

“He knew I would leave…he was unable to hide it.” She didn’t want to say goodbye in such a way but she could not wait…it would have been too painful if she waited. She takes a deep breath and begins to walk towards the river.  The bridge across the River Thane was always heavily guarded.  They would not let anyone in or out of the city this time of night unless granted permission by the Ser Gaston or the High Lord of Rau himself. With all the recent rumors of dragons, most of the cities in Joro were locked down at night. She would need to be conspicuous and avoid crossing the eyes of the guards at if she ever wanted to get out of here.  She walks farther down the river, trying to find a safe distance from the gate to cross.

 The bridge was not too far from her, but her vision was always sharper during the night, which made her aware of the guards every movement.  After establishing a safe distance, she dips her hand into the dark water.  An icy coldness shoots up her fingers penetrating her bones. The River was at least 2 miles wide, which wouldn’t make for a pleasant swimming experience. 

Amalya sits down to think.  Her eyes scan the length of the river, hoping to find some sort of natural bridge or boat that a careless fisherman may have left behind.  She crawls along the shore, until she spots a small black form sticking out of water.  She rushes forward to get a better look.  As she gets closer, more black shapes begin to emerge from the water.  They were rocks, large black and probably quite slippery.  The makeshift rock bridge extended across, what appears to be, the entire length of the river.  ‘This looks promising.’ She reaches her foot out towards the first rock.  The top was dry but barely.  She would have to proceed with extreme caution if she wanted to avoid slipping.

Taking a deep breath, she lunges out onto the first rock.  She steadies herself and concentrates on keeping her feet firmly planted on the stone.  After regaining her balance, she begins to feel more confident.  Treading carefully, she makes her way across the river on the bridge of rocks.  She watches her footing carefully, scanning each rock before she decides to move forward. Not coming across any stone too slippery, she quickens her pace.  She gets halfway across the river when she notices the next stone ahead is a bit farther than anticipated.  She studies the distance carefully.  Seeing no other alternative but to jump, Amalya braces herself for a clear leap.  She steps back on the rock she currently stands on and takes a deep breath.  She leans forward, bracing herself for liftoff when her foot slips, plunging herself head first into the cold depths of the River Thane.

Icy water engulfs her vision.  She takes in a lungful of water as she struggles to reach the surface.  The water was moving faster than she realized which made retrieving her bearings very difficult.  Amalya reaches her arms ahead of her and swims forward as hard as she can.  Her clothes were beginning to weigh her down as they absorbed the icy water like a sponge.  She begins to sink.  No matter how hard she kicks her legs and paddles her arms she cannot reach the surface.  Amalya begins to think the worst.  “Of course this would happen…the moment I try to break free I am swallowed up by the earth itself…even it finds no place for me…”

She begins to fade, her lungs feel heavy with water and her breath was slowly leaving her body.  Her eyes grow hazy as she closes them for one last time.  The river tosses her around desperately but she does not try to escape it.  Then a sudden force chokes her into consciousness as strong arms lift her up, pulling her from her watery grave.  She is tossed onto the bank.  A heavy hand comes down on her back, forcing all the water sitting in her lungs up. Large quantities of the swallowed water erupt from her mouth onto the ground below.  She recomposes herself and takes in heavy labored breaths.  The fresh air stabs her chest like an icy knife. 

“You didn’t last long did you?”

She turns towards the voice to see the very worried face of Arthur.  He gives her a relieved smile.  Amalya cannot help but smile back. He rubs her hands in his to get the blood flowing. Amalya shivers in her wet clothes, her breath producing clouds of hot air, “Where…how did you find me?”

“Wasn’t too hard, you sound like a drunken ox out here.  I’m surprised the guards didn’t find you first.”

“How did you get across the bridge?”

“I’m the squire to the Guard Commander. All they needed to hear was that I was out on Ser Gaston’s orders and they let me pass.”

Amalya smiles. There seems to be no shaking her brother.  He was so much a part of her as she was a part of him.  She carefully takes a breath, “Thank you…”

“No need.”

He reaches for his pack and hauls it onto his back.  With his hand extended, he lifts Amalya to her shaky feet, “Lets get out of the open and get a fire going…quickly! We don’t need you freezing to death out here.”  They hurriedly race away from the River Thane, away from the City of Rau and from everything they have ever known.

After what felt like hours, Amalya sits next to a roaring fire.  She wraps herself up in a warm woolen blanket as her wet assortment of clothes hang loosely from the branches of neighboring trees. Arthur throws a few more logs into the flames.  His equipment and armor sit next to him and his sword rests closely at his side.  Amalya enjoys the warm air from the flames.  She has always loved watching them dance so elegantly above the burning logs.  It made her feel more at home than anything else she has had the pleasure of experiencing.  Arthur looks over towards her, “How are you feeling?”

Amalya nods her head and smiles at him, “I’m a lot better now.”

“Not getting too hot over there? You’re sitting rather close…”

“I like sitting this close…it’s rather pleasant.”

Arthur looks away for a moment and redirects his focus.  He pulls out a small map and places it on the ground in front of him. He studies it carefully by the light of the fire.  Amalya watches him and waits patiently for him to speak aloud his plan.  Finally, he lifts up his head and looks at her,

“The City of Jar is the farthest western city of Joro.  It would take at least 4 full months for a skilled traveller to make…”

Amalya glances at the map, “We are no skilled travellers.”

“Exactly. Meaning it would probably take twice as long.  Is there any indication of where father sent the letter from?”

Amalya fishes around in her small pack and pulls out the letter.  It was miraculously undamaged from her dip in the River Thane.  She opens the letter and glances at the broken seal adorning its edges, “It looks like a seal from the City of Padure…”

“Which means he would be at least a month ahead of us already.”

“Probably more then that…”

Arthur nods his head and looks back at the map.  He traces his finger along its rough surface, “Our smartest plan is to head to Castle Joro and pick up some supplies.  We may also be able to meet with Commander Donnik as well…see what he can tell us.”

Amalya shakes her head, “We can’t let him know about father!”

“He probably already knows! You can believe he has half the Dragon Guard out there looking for him already.”

“What are we going to say then?”

“We will just have to play it by ear.  We won’t show him the letter…the last thing we want is for him to suspect us in anyway.”

Arthur folds up the map and places I back in his pack. Amalya closes the blanket around her tightly, “Why did you come back for me?”

Arthur glances at her, “You’re my sister.”

His words speak truthfully but his eyes shift as if afraid to say anything more.  Amalya watches him intently, trying to pull what he is hiding from her out into the open.  Her eyes fall heavily closed as she tries to fight off sleep.  It has been a long trying day. She shakes her head to try and wake herself up but to no avail. The warmth from the fire and being comfortably bundled made it harder and harder to stay awake. She leans back and lies down next to the fire.  Its flames barely lick her skin, but she was not afraid of getting burned.  Arthur watches her as he shifts around to get comfortable, “Just sleep now, we’ve got a long way ahead of us.” Amalya does not argue.  She closes her eyes to wait for the new day.

Next Chapter: Chapter 8: Leaving Home