The Mateless Dragon King

Orphan Refugees

18 Years Prior

—-

Gareth POV - Flashback

“Come on! Keep moving!” A gruff voice commanded us.

I gripped my brother’s hand tightly, not letting him out of my sight, as we lined up to enter one of the many human refugee camps on the outskirts of the kingdom of Caelor's border.

Caelorian soldiers manned the entrance to the camp which was set up by the dragon king himself, allowing some to stay and turning some away. I watched in fear, hoping my brother and I wouldn't be separated.

It had been a little over a year since the small farming village we grew up in was ransacked by raiders. Our parents hid us in the root cellar hidden under the house.

“You must stay very quiet, Gareth, or they will find you too. Stay safe and, no matter what, stay together and take care of your brother.” It was the last thing my Papa said to me and I took it to heart.

My brother was too young to understand, he wanted to cry and scream, especially with the sounds of our parents, grandparents, and friends being slaughtered all around us.

I found the valerian root tonic Mama sometimes used to help Grandpa sleep when he wasn’t feeling well. I gave it to him and sat by his side, holding his hand, as he slept through the sounds of violence, and later, the smells of burning flesh.

We stayed in the cellar for three days, before we emerged and scavenged supplies to head east on foot. I had overheard traders tell stories of the golden Dragon King of Caelor, and that he was allowing humans into his kingdom, to escape the raiders who overthrew the Witch Queen generations ago and sent our lands into chaos.

I was captivated by the idea of the Dragon King. To my youthful mind, he was a mystical demigod, untouched by time, who was just and powerful, who cared for his people. I fantasized that if we could reach his kingdom, we would find safety and make a better life for ourselves.

The journey was long and arduous. I hunted for our food, grateful for the lessons my father taught me about survival. Over the last year, I had transformed from the little boy who loved to bow hunt with his father, to a boy who was capable of keeping my little brother safe and fed, by any means necessary. But I wanted more for us.

We walked for days on end, I traded animal pelts for food and supplies at the villages we passed that were not yet burnt to the ground. Some of the villages were large enough to build walls that dissuaded the raiders just enough to ignore them.

Now we have finally found ourselves on the outskirts of the Caelorian border, where refugee camps were set up to give humans a place to stay while waiting to prove themselves worthy of access to the Dragon King’s kingdom.

“State your name and age clearly for the record,” we finally reached the entrance, where a soldier sat at a table with an open book, pen, and inkwell. He glanced up at me impatiently, “Are you deaf, boy?”

“Gareth Thorn, seven years old, Sir.” I stated firmly and respectfully, holding my brother’s shoulders tightly as he stood in front of me. “This is Rowan Thorn, four years old.”

“Mawa, thwee.” I heard a soft voice say from beside me, feeling a soft tug at my clothes. I turned my head and looked down and saw a little girl clutching the edge of my vest. I looked around us, trying to find her family.

“Where is your family?” I bent down and whispered to her. She didn’t respond, but seeing the tears well up in her big eyes told me enough. She was an orphan, like us.

“Okay, I have Gareth, Rowan, and Mara Thorn, ages seven, four, and three.” The guard repeated back.

I took one of my hands off my brother’s shoulders, and grabbed the little girl’s hand, “Yes, that is correct, Sir.”

“No guardian?” He asked.

“I am their guardian, Sir,” I responded. He glanced up, sizing me up, probably amused that a seven-year-old was claiming to be a guardian. But he probably saw a lot of orphans, so he just nodded and continued filling out his paperwork.

“Very well, you are old enough to work. What skills do you have?”

My brow furrowed, “I can read. I can use a bow, hunt and dress elk. I have basic knowledge of herbs and potions, my mama was a herbalist.”

The guard continued writing.

“I want to be a soldier, though." He still didn’t respond, and just continued writing.

“Alright, all three of you can enter the medical tent and get checked by a healer. As long as you are healthy, you will be able to stay in the camp.”

I grinned, “thank you, Sir.” I grabbed my brother’s and the little girl’s hands and held them tightly, leading them to the healers' tent.

A young healer smiled warmly as she approached us, her eyes filled with kindness and understanding. "Hello there, little ones. My name is Lyra. I'll be doing your checkups today to make sure you are all healthy. Follow me, please."

I tightened my grip on Rowan and Mara's hands, and we followed Lyra into the tent. Inside, it was warm and smelled of herbs and ointments. It reminded me of Mama’s herbalist hut. The soft light from the lanterns hanging around created a comforting atmosphere, a stark contrast to the tense environment outside.

Lyra guided us to a set of cots lined up along one side of the tent. "Sit here, and I'll just take a quick look at all of you," she said, her voice soothing and gentle.

I helped Mara and Rowan onto one of the cots and sat down next to them. Lyra started with Mara, checking her eyes, ears, and throat, and feeling for any signs of fever. The little girl clutched my hand the entire time, as though I might disappear if she let go.

“You're a brave girl, Mara," Lyra said with a smile.

Then she moved on to Rowan, who also let her check him over.

"You're doing a great job taking care of your brother and sister, Gareth," Lyra said as she examined him. "I can imagine it is not easy being forced to grow up so fast, when you're still so young yourself."

"I have to," I replied quietly. "I promised Papa."

She nodded sympathetically and then turned her attention to me. "Let's see how you're holding up," she said. After a thorough examination, she gave a satisfied nod. "You all seem to be in good health, a little thin, but that is not unexpected. Hopefully the food here at the camp will be good for all of you. It is basic, but healthy.”

"Thank you, Miss Lyra," I said, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. We had made it this far, and now we have a chance to rest and recover before figuring out what is next.

"Keep these on you at all times," Lyra stood up and handed me three parchments that had our names written at the top, and gestured towards the back of the tent, "The soldiers do random document checks, and you'll need to have those with you. I'll show you to your tent now. It's not much, but it will be safe and warm."

We followed her to a smaller tent set up at the edge of the camp, next to a fence that looked across a large field before you could see the wall and gatehouse that marked the Caelorian border. Inside were three small cots, a few blankets, a lantern, and some basic supplies. It was simple, but it felt like a palace compared to what we had been through.

"You can stay here for now," Lyra said. "If you need anything, just let me know, you can always find me in the healers' tent. The camp provides meals, and there are places where you can wash up."

"Thank you," I said again, feeling overwhelmed by her kindness, something that I was unaccustomed to since our parents were killed.

As Lyra left, I helped Mara and Rowan settle onto one of the cots, both exhausted and needing a midday sleep. I whispered to them. "We're safe now."

Rowan hugged me tightly, and Mara snuggled close, seeking comfort. I held them both as they dozed off, feeling the weight of responsibility but also a glimmer of hope. We were so close to the Dragon King's land, I could see it. I was determined to prove that we deserved to enter.

I was going to become a soldier, protect my siblings, and maybe one day, maybe I would meet the Dragon King himself. But for now, I was content with the canvas roof over our heads.