The Shackled Sorceress' Mate

“Argh!” I hiss under my breath as I slide down the stone wall, frantically grasping to catch myself. My knees and fingertips scrape against the rugged surface. My heart is in my throat when I finally catch a large stone with my fingertips. I can’t let go now, a fall from this height would really suck. So I hold my breath and grab for the next stone down, fumbling for a good foothold. Climbing down a wall like this is no easy task while wearing a corset and petticoats, though. Just a few more steps down, and I’ll be free for the night. I know what you’re thinking, so save it. I get enough grief from my dad. Yes, I know shouldn’t be sneaking out this late, but I just have to escape that tower sometimes! I feel like I’m suffocating. These nights are only time I’m truly free, at the tavern drinking ale with the boys and acting stupid. I snicker at the thought of my father’s face if he could see me right now, my dress torn and dirty and my hair a frumpy mess. “Drusilla,” he’d say, “you dishonor me.” Or some crap like that. But do I really care what he thinks? No, not really. He’s Merlin, the most powerful sorcerer in the world and the king’s most trusted advisor. I will never be good enough in his eyes. Ever. So I have officially given up on trying. I gingerly climb down the last few stones while trying to ignore the warm blood from my knees soaking into my skirt. As I reach the bottom of the tower I hop off of the wall, relishing in the freedom I feel when my feet hit the soft earth. After I brush myself off a bit, I crouch against the tower, squinting into the darkness to see if the castle guards are nearby. Sure enough, the largest i***t of them all rounds the corner. I’m a bit relieved though, Brutus is a drunken fool so I can outrun him if I have to. He holds his torch in the air and peers into the darkness in my direction. His square jaw looks even more severe in the firelight. He takes a step towards me, and I try to press even closer to the wall. “Who’s there?” He calls out with a slurred voice. Crap, did he hear me hit the ground? I try to make myself as small as possible and hold my breath. He squints into the darkness for a few more seconds, but he obviously doesn’t care to add any excitement to his evening. He lets out a sigh and turns around, probably to sneak a drink while the other guards aren’t looking. I finally exhale, and take the opportunity to make my move. It’s now or never. I run to grab a torch from a nearby building, then hike up my skirts, wincing at the pain in my gashed fingertips. Oh well, it’s nothing a few drinks won’t fix. A mischievous smile creeps across my lips as I begin my run across the field, my tousled hair whipping my face and the wind caressing my skin. When I finally reach the tree line of the nearby forest, I know that the dangers are far worse, but I’d rather face a pack of wolves than my father’s guards. I’ve walked this path a hundred times. I’ve only been caught once. That’s why my father locks the door to my room every night now. I hold my skirts up a little higher as my feet crunch the dry twigs below me. The tavern is only a hundred yards or so down this pathway, and luckily it isn’t the type of place that people of noble blood (namely my father and his friends) ever go. It’s perfect for an evening escape. As I continue on this familiar path, I notice that the woods seem eerily quiet tonight. No animals scurrying about or wolves howling in the distance. A chill moves over my skin. My breathing becomes heavier. That’s when I hear it. The sound of giant flapping wings in the distance followed by an unearthly screeching roar. The sound sends chills down my spine. I haven’t heard it since I was a child, but I will never forget it. A dragon. There hasn’t been a dragon around the village in a decade! Suddenly I am regretting my little escapade. I run as fast as my overly-clothed legs will carry me.