Dear Readers,
Here is my newest obsession: In the Kingdom of the Dragons. It is about a young girl, named Sara, who dreams of becoming a dragon slayer. I know I have a lot of works out, but I need to be able to have a lot of options open because I am in need of many distractions. I am so excited for this saga that is going to be in three parts: In the Kingdom of the Dragons, In the Kingdom of Darkness, In the Kingdom of Death. I hope you enjoy this story. I will go slower with it so that I can finish up all of my other stories. Without and further ado… let's begin
~Katyrye~
~8~8~8~
ONCE upon a time in a kingdom faraway, there lived a young girl who was very loved by her parents. The young girl grew up on a nice piece of land, apart from the village, with the animals as her friends and forest as her playground. Her father was a woodsman; he made a living trading animal skins and making furniture. Her mother was a caring woman who never lifted her hand, or her voice, in anger.
The little girl was named Sara. She had her mother's dark hair and her father's passion for life. Her parents kept her apart from the village, though she never knew why. It didn't concern her that she didn't have many friends. She had her share of horses to ride, cows to pet, and chickens to chase. Life had never been so great for a child.
The kingdom she lived in was called Ur. It was divided into six villages and the nearest one was called Enid. Sara had been to Enid once with her father, but she had stayed in the cart and had stared at the other children as they played with wooden swords.
"Papa," she had asked when her father returned to the cart with a keg of flour for her mother. "Can I play with those children?"
Her father smiled at her and then looked back at the other children. He grabbed her around the waist, lifted her out of the cart, and set her on her feet. He pushed her gently towards the children, but kept his eye on her as he continued his business.
"My name is Sara," she said as she approached slowly.
One of the children, a little girl, pointed at her doll. "What is that?" she asked.
Sara looked down innocently at her doll. "This is Anne," she explained. "Mama made her."
Before she knew what had happened one of the little boys had snatched Anne away from her and the gang of children ran away, holding Anne up in the air like a hostage. Sara stared after them, still in shock that she had just been robbed. Her father had seen what had happened, but instead of chasing after the children, he picked his daughter up and set her back in the cart.
"Sometimes we have losses," he said as he kissed her head. "You just have to keep moving on. I'm sure Mama will make you another."
Sara didn't know that the loss of Anne, her beloved friend, was only the beginning of loss. She didn't know that the world that she knew, of animals and nature, was about to change.
~8~8~8~
"Did you do your lessons today?" he father asked, tucking her into bed.
Sara nodded and snuggled down deeper under the blankets. Her mother had sewn another doll and her new friend was tucked under her arm. Her father kissed her nose and tucked a loose strand of hair under her nightcap.
"Good," he said. "I am going to have a smart daughter. And when you have daughters of your own, they will be smart as well."
Sara looked confused. "I will have my own daughters?" she asked.
Her father nodded. "One day a handsome man will come along and sweep you right off your feet," he explained. "Then you won't have time for your papa anymore."
Sara shook her head. "I don't want a man to push me off my feet!" she cried. "I only want to be near you!"
Her father lifted a necklace over his head and slipped it over her own. Sara held up the small medallion to look at it, but the symbol was strange to her.
"When you have this with you, then I will always be there," he explained to her
Sara looked confused, but her father laughed. "You'll understand one day," he said, tucking the blankets more firmly around her. "Good night, princess."
"Good night, Papa," she said, turning over onto her side.
Her father sat there for a moment, feeling overwhelmed with love for his small daughter. When he heard her softly snoring he leaned over and blew out the candle.
~8~8~8~
A loud noise woke Sara up from a deep sleep. She wanted to lie back down, but a foreboding feeling kept her alert. She strained her ears, but heard nothing. The fire had been put out and the shade of the sky outside her window told her that morning was near. She pushed back her blankets and stepped out of bed. The floor underneath her feet was cold and she stood stalk still when they creaked beneath her. For some odd reason, she felt as if she needed to be as quiet as a mouse.
"Laura!" she heard her father shout.
She screeched and scurried under the bed. She had never heard her father yell at her mother. She scooted back towards the far wall, clutching her new doll under one arm. There was a strange gurgling noise and she thought she heard someone say her name. But she was too scared to move.
For a few moments there was silence.
Then the sound of creaking floorboards told Sara that somebody was walking through their home. Had this person done something to her parents? Did this person want to hurt her?
The door to her bedroom opened and Sara looked up to see her mother.
But it wasn't really her mother. Her mother's face was always full of love for her and her father, but her mother's new face was blank. Her eyes were wild, almost bulging, and in her hand she held a knife. Bright blood glistened on the blade and tiny drops slid down and pattered onto the wooden floor.
"Sara," she whispered in a way that sounded not at all like her mother.
Sara shivered in her place under the bed, but did not move. She clutched her doll and covered her eyes with her small hand.
"Sara, come out," she said. "We need to do our lessons."
The floor creaked as her mother walked sluggishly to the closet, opened the door, and thrust the knife into it. She made repeated stabbing motions as if she were blindly trying to kill something.
"Sara, you come out here right now!" her mother yelled.
Sara whimpered and shrank back against the wall. She never disobeyed her mother, but this was not her mother. Laura Sidle's face, that was once beautiful and swan-like, was now contorted into a menacing snarl. Sara heard the feet of the bed move and she gasped in fear as the bed was pushed away from the wall.
"There you are," her mother said to her. "You bad little girl. Now, come here."
Sara stood, on shaky legs, and walked slowly towards her mother. With a firm grip, the older woman reached out and grasped the little girl by the arm. Sara let out a scream and began to hit her attacker with her doll. Then something changed in her mother's face.
For a brief instant the contorted, grotesque face that her mother was wearing, relaxed. The face of her mother looked down at the child in her grasp.
"Run away," her mother hissed at her through clenched teeth.
Before Sara could respond she was pushed from her bedroom and the door slammed. Sara jumped to her feet and hurried over to the front door. She had to step on her tip-toes to reach the latch that locked the door, but she did and she hurried out into the cold winter morning.
~8~8~8~
Her father told her the woods were dangerous at night and in early morning. Animals came out to eat and some were returning from a night's hunt. Her mother had spoken of werewolves, Drakes, and even elves that would come out and take naughty children back to their dens. The most dangerous of all, was the dragon.
Sara had never seen any of these animals and, as she ran through the woods in her night dress, she forgot to keep an eye out for them. Her father and mother needed help and the only place that she could think of was Enid, which was an hour's travel by cart. She knew the general direction. Her father said it was a village that lay between the mountains. But other than that one visit, where her doll was stolen, she had not been there.
When she finally spotted the city, her legs were tired from running and her feet were bloodied from sticks and stones. A woman carrying a basket of vegetables saw her, but shooed her away when she tried to get close.
"Get away!" she said, swishing a rag at Sara.
Sara scurried back, but tried to approach her again. "Please, my Mama and Papa!" she cried.
The woman turned a deaf ear and Sara hurried to find help. She rushed into a market where she saw a blacksmith hammering metal. Each time he swung his big hammer down, it landed on the sword with a loud 'Clank'. She scurried over and pleaded to the workers.
"My Mama and Papa!" she cried. "They're hurt!"
The workers stopped what they were doing and one approached her. She pointed in the direction she came.
"We live outside the village," she explained. "My Papa comes to trade skins."
The blacksmith nodded. "You are Mr. Sidle's young Sara," he said, waving the other men over.
He took Sara by the hand and led her into a hut. Inside there was a large woman making bread. Though it wasn't her home, it smelled welcoming and the fire was warm. The large woman came to her and wrapped her in a blanket.
"Why are you in your night clothes!?" she asked, sitting Sara on a stool by the fire.
"Keep her here until we return," the blacksmith said as he left.
~8~8~8~
After the blacksmith left, the large woman tried to get Sara to eat. She said her name was Martha and that she was the blacksmith's wife. There were two children in the house and they looked at Sara with wide-eyed curiosity.
After what seemed like hours, the blacksmith returned and took off his hat. He looked at Sara with sadness and then whispered something to his wife. Martha put a hand over her mouth and then looked to Sara.
"She'll go to a poor house!" she said lowly.
Sara stood up and let the blanket fall away. "We are my parents?" she asked. "Is my papa alright?"
The blacksmith approached her. "They've gone to a better place," he said to her.
Sara felt her world crash down around her and hot tears slipped down her cheeks. How could her father be dead? She had just seen him only yesterday. And her mother had been cooking supper the night before. It wasn't true. It couldn't be.
~8~8~8~
The blacksmith and his wife kept Sara for a night and tried their best to sooth her, but they couldn't take her on. They had their own children and, as much as it pained them, they turned her over to the constable.
After a few days, Sara learned that her father had been killed with a knife and that her mother had taken her own life. She was not allowed to return home to get anything that reminded her of them. Everyone in the village said it was her mother's fault. They said that she had gone mad and had killed her father when he tried to reason with her. Sara did not believe it.
She never saw her parent's buried, but she assumed they had been because their things had been brought to the village and auctioned off. Sara stood back as she watched her mother's rocking chair and her father's cart sell. The money went to a workhouse to pay for Sara's board.
The only things she had left were some clothes, her doll, and the necklace her father had given her. She kept this hidden under her dress so nobody would try to sell it. She also had her mother's school books, which was a rarity for girls.
Since she was a girl child, she was not housed with the young boys, but with the young girls. The workhouse she entered was horrible. It smelled like an outhouse and every now and then, she saw a rat scurry along the edges of the walls. This place was nothing like her beautiful home outside the village.
She would never again hear her mother's soft voice speak to her father. She would never smell the tobacco from her father's pipe or crawl into his lap after he had arrived home. This dank, dark place was her home now. She couldn't be sad about it because her parents were looking down on her and they expected her to be a good girl.
The new room she had she shared with twelve other little girls. The bed she had wasn't like the one her father had built her. This one was rotting and smelled old. There were holes in the mattress and Sara wondered if they were made by rats.
She set her box of things down, but in an instant the other children were digging in it and pulling her clothes out. She had an extra pair of shoes with her, but soon she saw them on the feet of another little girl. Sara wondered if the little girl needed them and did not say anything.
~8~~8~8~
A/M: So, what did you think so far? Kind of new for me. I never thought that I would write fantasy and create a kingdom. Grissom WILL be in it. GSR lives.. even in the kingdom of Ur. Odd name, yes I know. But I like it. A Drake is a creature of my own invention that we will meet later. DUM DUM DUMMMMM. Love you. Night Night. REVIEW PLEEAASSEE!