The sun shone brightly on her wedding day. It was perfectly clear, with no clouds, white or gray, on site. It was so bright, it didn't look like a winter day, but it sure felt like one. Miroslava felt grateful to have such a cozy room, with the heat of the fireplace warming up the winter morning, and her kosovorotka, a long warm dress shirt with long sleeves made of fine linen embroidered with five different patterns of white lace.
She felt beautiful and excited like her heart was about to burst, but she was also nervous. This was an important day, she was to marry Igor, the dragonslayer's grandson. Mirra tried to hide it and just concentrated on her task at hand, playing with the toy dragon she could never get to fly.
Her older sister, Yaroslava, braided her ankle-length blonde hair.
"Hear that Mirra," Yaroslava asked.
"The groom has arrived!" One of the maids said.
"Get her dress and the necklace while she's counting crows," her sister said.
"I'm not counting crows. I'm thinking. It's a pity there are no more dragons," Mirra replied, ignoring her sister scornful words.
The maid cleaning her feet, gave Mirra a kind smile as the child everyone thought of her to be. A curious, bright, young woman but nonetheless a child.
Mirra played with her paper dragon, mimicking the tales of dragons flying on the sky. She stretched her arms, moving the toy dragon in her hand with her wrist to make it come alive.
"Stop it. You'll jinx your wedding day. Would you rather a dragon take you, and Igor fight him?"
Her toy dragon fell from her hands to the floor and the maid cleaning her feet picked it up and gave it back to her.
"At least then I would've married a dragon-slayer." Little did she know she was soon to be called a dragon-slayer herself.
"Do you have any other worries?"
"My toy dragon won't fly..." Mirra continued playing with her toy.
"You've got your head on the clouds. Your toy, your groom - it's all the same to you. You have no feelings," Yaroslava scoffed.
"What-"
Her oldest sister slightly yanked her long braid.
"Nothing. Sit still."
"You're envious because you're still unmarried. By the way, Igor has the best horse in the land." Mirra's face shone with pride.
"Marry his horse then." Yaroslava forcefully yanked Mirra's long braid.
"You're hurting me!"
"Let go of this damned toy!" Slava pushed Mirra's hand away making her drop her toy dragon in the bathwater.
Mirra tried to get it back but the maid had already stood up and was moving away from the sisters' fight. Mirra stoop up, away from her sister, getting back control of her rope-like braid. She just wanted a peaceful day dedicated to her nuptials, but her bitter sister had other plans.
"Why did she want to upset me so on this day of all others? Who does she think she is?" she thought.
"Let me alone Yara! You're not my mother," Mirra shouted.
"Perhaps your heart is silent because you don't have one!"
"Don't you dare say that! Keep waiting for true love, you old maid!"
"What?!" Yaroslava had a dumbfounded look.
"Did she think she was the only one who could say hateful things?" Mirra thought.
The door opened.
"What's going on here?" An older man with long white hair and a short white beard entered the room, his blood red velvety robe seemed to be made of thick fabric since it didn't dance as he moved. Her father took the toy dragon out of the bathwater. "Is she misbehaving again?"
"But Father, she-" Mirra moved toward her father.
"Stop it!" Her father interjected. "Everyone's waiting and you're still quarreling with your sister!"
"If you only knew, Father, what she said to me," Mirra said. Her father fell silent, looking at her.
"All right then, what did she say to you?" The Duke asked.
"Nothing," Mirra replied after a long pause and sat back onto the chair.
"Nothing... nothing is what your toys are - your dragons, princesses and fairy tales." One of the maids wiped his hands with a towel. "You just can't grow up, can't you? You're not a child anymore." He threw the towel back at the maid and she scurried away. "Mirra." He placed his arms on a boat model. "You're going to be a duchess," her father said. "You must understand that and behave accordingly."
Mirra's looked down. First her sister, now her father.
Will they just give it a rest?
The duke walked toward a sitting Mirra. His steps resonating on the wooden floor.
"I know what's best for you. Igor is right for you. You'll grow to love him, and he'll grow to love you," he said in a softer voice, giving her a kind smile.
Mirra smiled back at him, her eyes a bit dampened by the rollercoaster ride her family just put her through. She was to marry a stranger, an extremely handsome one, but still a stranger.
"Can't a girl blow off some steam playing with her toy dragon? Why do they feel the need to badgered me like that?" Mirra thought.
He put his hands on Mirra's shoulders and she smiled. "Trust your father's heart: when there's love, everything else will follow."
After her father left, she continued getting ready for the ceremony. Her sister silently helped her, as if resigned to Mirra's stubbornness. The first thing to put on was the multilayered pearl collar necklace. It was so big the last pearl strand reached to her belly button. Next were beautifully decorated white leather shoes.
Mirra stood up to wear her white sarafan, a heavy coat that started at the neck and went all the way to her ankles, made of brocade fabric with baroque designs. It had two vertical lines made of lace trim that marked the opening of the coat which her sister buttoned up.
"This is your last chance, you can stop this." Her sister finally spoke, but Mirra wished she hadn't. Miroslava rolled her eyes and Yaroslava understood: There was no going back.
The only wedding attire left was the kokoshnik, an exquisite headdress made of brocade fabric, embroidered jewels, and braided pearls. The sheer veil sprang from the headdress onto her back and an intricate design made with pearls ran over her forehead, and around the rectangle at the front of the headdress. The rectangle enclosed a circular rosetta ornament made with embroidered jewels. The kokoshnik was heavy... all her clothes were, but she didn't mind it, after all, it was a one in a lifetime event so feeling sore and overwhelmed due to the heavy clothes was worth it. Right?
Mirra hurried downstairs and breathed deeply to calm herself before her maids opened the heavy wooden doors. She stepped into the hallway where half of the town and her father waited for her. The townsfolk cheered her on from the sidelines as Miroslava walked on the carefully laid bloodberries showing her the path to the dugout canoe. Her father waited for her midway, and once she was in front of him, he put on a long red necklace around her neck, kissed her on her forehead, and stepped aside.
Mirra continued on the path and stepped on the canoe made out of linden wood. It was adorned with light brown fur, red beaded fabrics and hand painted fabrics on the inside, and surrounded by red candles inside metal mugs and bloodberries on top. Miroslava gently laid on the canoe and waited for the men to carry her out of the hallway toward the exist. The townsfolk lavished her with gifts and she lifted her head slightly to see the people wishing her well. Everyone was radiant, looking happy, some clapping, others praying for her wellbeing.
The kids accompanying their parents were just as curious, but the canoe where the duke's daughter laid was too tall for them to see.
Mirra couldn't contain her happiness. Everything was finally how it was supposed to be. The men lowered the canoe into the water and she drifted into the small bay.
From the balcony, the young vedmas grinned, dressed in white, showered her with bloodberries. The townsfolk gathered in the bay, cheering for the glorious day.
Snowflakes fell from the white sky.
"It's strange... it was so bright earlier on, and now I can't see the sun," Mirra said to herself.
Her father entered the balcony using a carved staff as a cane, accompanied by her dispirited sister.
"We have not forgotten the dark times when we gave our daughters to the Dragon. We remember and will always remember the one who vanished the beast! Today we give our beautiful and precious daughters to the most distinguished men of our lands!" The duke gripped the staff as if trying to control his emotions. Yaroslava couldn't conceal her grouchiness. The duke didn't mind her, the marriage was happening and she wasn't one of the two involved, so it was technically not her business.
"Today I betroth my youngest daughter, Miroslava, to the fine grandson of the hero who rid us of the monster. Today, I am the happiest man alive!" The Duke lifted his staff as he opened his arms, reaching for the sky. "Because I give my daughter to the most distinguished knight in our lands, Igor!" The duke pointed out with his staff to the jetty on the other side of the bay.
"Because I give my daughter to the most distinguished knight in our lands, Igor!" The duke pointed out with his staff to the jetty on the other side of the bay
"Look! It's the dragon slayer's grandson," a townsman said to his son. Everyone's eyes, including Mirra's, were on the tall, young man.
Everyone's eyes, including Mirra's, were on the tall, young man. Igor walked forward, making his dramatic entrance. The men-at-arms at each side of the wooden path, held the dagger-headed sovnyas with small flags across the pathway, blocking Igor's way. The weapons were pulled away with each step he took, making him look even more radiant and handsome than Mirra remembered. His blonde, shoulder length hair started to be covered by snowflakes. His curved, clearly defined eyebrows framed his beautiful green eyes. Mirra wondered if staring at those eyes long enough will make her fall in love.
He was her match, her father said so.
Igor's circle beard made his rosy lips look succulent. As he walked, he rested his hand on the sword's hilt. He had a mulberry silk rubakha, a shirt with long sleeves that narrowed at his wrists. On top of it, he had a gray chuga with a circles pattern. It was a cutoff bodice, with wide bell-shaped laps, sleeves with puff above the elbows. He seems to enjoy the crowd's cheer as much as Mirra did. His black coat had a trim that ran across his shoulders, made of a mulberry fabric with gold baroque designs. His attire was carefully chosen and it made Mirra smile. She thought she finally understood why her father chose him as her mate. He looked regal, fit for the Duke title, and seemed to care for his appearance as much as she did. They were indeed a match.
Miroslava was excited, but he didn't give her heart a tug. She didn't mind since she didn't believe in love. Mirra had never seen it, or experienced it, so it must be just a fairytale told to gullible children... and her sister. Yaroslava believed in love, it's one of the reasons she was going to end up an old maid.
Mirra wasn't going to wait for a love that would never come if it even existed. She was going to grab life by the horns and make it do her will. She would have everything she ever dreamed of, and more. She was to be a duchess, since her father didn't have any male heir, and she was going to do so by marrying the most coveted bachelor in the icy lands, the dragonslayer's grandson.
Igor stopped at the end of the wooden dock, grinning as he received the town's cheers. Dimitry, the captain of the guard, kneeled in front of him. The helmsman was much older than Igor, and was his protector. Mirra had a slight suspicion her sister had a crush on him. Dimitry was also a bachelor, but a Duke's daughter doesn't marry below her station. He offered Igor the ritual rope. Igor breathed deeply and took the rope in his hands, looking Mirra's way.
The crowd clamored at unison, prompting Igor to start the wedding ceremony.
Dimitry signaled the guards to start and they rhythmically thudded the wooden floor with their sovnyas.
Igor gripped the long rope tied to Mirra's canoe and pulled. The rope rose from the water and it splashed everyone around it. He kept pulling, bringing her to him, and his guards started chanting.
Time is a fast-flowing river.
It spares no one.
The bride awaits her bridegroom
as she awaits her destiny.
What's this? Mirra loved surprises, but why are they singing the dreadful dragon song? It made her uncomfortable. It was her wedding day, hey could have at least consulted the choice of songs with her. Her heart grew weary. "Dragons are dead," she whispered to herself. "Nothing will happen."
She is clad in white,
as if dressed in a shroud.
Eternal peace will come for her...
"Why are they singing the dragon song," one of the villagers asked.
"To honor his grandfather, the dragonslayer," their neighbor answered.
The wedding bell tolls.
Take her away!
Take her away!
The townsfolk joined them in the ritual song.
Come!
Come for her!
The young maiden
is yours for eternity.
The sky turned gray and strong winds were felt through the bay. The wind howled around the canoe and blew out the candles. A wall-like snow came out of nowhere, pushing down everything and everyone in its wake. The winds became stronger with each second it passed and a snowstorm was upon them, bewildering everyone around.
"Why is this happening?" It was supposed to be a tranquil day. Now, Miroslava laid in the middle of the bay with a snowstorm threatening her dear life.
A roar came from afar and a black dragon appeared. The two-legged dragon flapped his wings making the winds roar. The wild dragon took everyone by surprise. Mirra opened her eyes wide. She couldn't believe her eyes. She froze. What was she supposed to do? She was petrified.
"No, no! Dragons weren't supposed to exist anymore!" Miroslava shook her head. "This can't be happening to me!"
Igor's guards shouted "Dragon!", but it was too late. It came down on them and they instinctively crouched to avoid being impaled by the dragon. But the dragon wasn't after them, it was after the maiden dressed in white, waiting for it in the middle of the bay. The dragon planed down toward the water below and not even the roaring winds could dampen Miroslava's screams. It grabbed the canoe with its claws, submerging it in the water, making Mirra taste the salty water. She coughed and gasped for air as soon as the dragon lifted the canoe off the water.
She coughed and gasped for air as soon as the dragon lifted the canoe off the water.
The dragon soared and the Duke called for her daughter. He tried to grab the canoe to save his daughter, but an old man was no match for a dragon's strength. All he could do was cry her name in despair as he reached for her, knowing he'll never get to hold her again.
The dragon turned around to leave the same way it came.
Igor still held the rope on his hands and he tried to pull the canoe from the beast. He quickly learned his strength was no match for the dragon's, so he did the next best thing. He wrapped the rope around a column before the dragon took off with his bride-to-be. It worked, it just wasn't a very good plan. The dragon was too high up and when the canoe fell, so did Mirra.
She was falling to her death. On the dock, Dimitry shoved Igor to the side to save him from a death by canoe.
Her heart raced so fast, she thought it was going to explode right there and then. Mirra didn't know what to think, was breaking her bones on the fall with the prospect of being drowned in icy waters any better than being burned or eaten alive by a dragon?
Mirra couldn't control the tears flowing out. Terrified, she shivered, the cold and the wetness of her clothes didn't help. Her voice was hoarse from screaming.
"Help!" Her arms reached out to the sky as if trying to get a hold of an invisible rope. "Please!"
"My wedding day..." The dragon planned down and swiftly grabbed her by the waist. Its claws tore into her skin, drawing blood. The shooting pain let her know the dragon clenched her tightly. The black beast soared high up into the sky, flying away with its prey. "It's now my funeral."
This is the end of chapter 1.
THANK YOU FOR READING!