Azareth was walking through the kingdom of Truffween, her home for the last eighty-five years of her short life. Truffween was loved by its people and neighbouring villages. The forest of Glofard housed the kingdom. Azareth always loved the huge trees and different types of plants that grew around her. Of course, the main city of the kingdom was always full of life. Every home was built around the trees, as not to harm them. Azareth walked through the market, which was always full of tables and wears. Merchants selling goods from all over the world, colours and smells of all different varieties. People going about their everyday lives, bustling around her. She noticed young elves practicing their different gifts in the main square. They played around the statue of King Halamar, who ruled over the kingdom with a fair and just hand.

Azareth laughed as one of the young elves grew flowers all over his friend. The young elves were always causing chaos and mischief. She had always enjoyed watching them, missing out on having many friends herself; it pleased her to see them full of life. Azareth stopped when she saw her only friend, Sana. Sana was selling her family’s wares, they would make clothing for the citizens. Azareth walked up to her friend and waited for her to be finished with her customer.

“Have a wonderful day,” Sana said. She looked over and saw Azareth, smiling excitedly. “Azareth, what are you doing here?”

“I thought I told you, my parents and I were called to see the king,” Azareth said. Sana nodded and put the coins she earned in a small box.

“Yes, I remember now. No idea what he wants?”

“No, none. My parents wouldn’t say anything to me. They just kept repeating ‘you will know tomorrow’.”

“I’m sure it isn’t anything you worry about,” Sana said. She waved her hand and a small pink flower appeared. Azareth felt an ache grow in her chest, she always felt left out of the fun of gifts. Azareth held her hand out and Sana dropped the flower in her hand.

“For good luck,” Sana said. Then a customer walked up to her table. Azareth gave her a grateful smile and then walked off in the direction of the castle.

As Azareth approached the castle, she saw a large shadow pass over her. Looking up, she smiled and stared at the creature. A dragon. It didn’t look large enough to fear, but it was still big enough that some of the archers geared up. There was a time that a Dragon Lord would be summoned if there was a dragon in the area. They were the only ones in the world who could control the dragons. Unfortunately, they had not been heard from since the last war. Their kingdom was devastated in the final battle.

As she was passing through the front gates of the castle, she took in the sight of it all. The castle was massive, carved and built into the trees of the forest. It was covered in deep dark green vines. The flowers that grew off the vines were an amazing snow-white colour. The large entryway of the castle had two large statues on either side of the door. They were statues to represent the elves we had lost in the last war. Both statues held their heads down and their hands out in front of them holding a flower up to the sun. In Truffween, the belief is that each beautiful white flower grew after one of their own past on to the afterlife. Azareth bowed her head and gave her respect to the fallen warriors.

Azareth was always welcomed in the castle, she practically grew up inside its walls. King Halamar had always admired her parents. Her father, Hastos, was the royal mapmaker. He spent a substantial amount of time with the King, showing him the best places to set up defences and lookouts. Not that they were needed, there had been a threat of war in eighty-five years. Azareth’s mother, Faylen, was a healer. Other elves would tell Azareth that she was the best healer in the kingdom and that is why the King had her working from his castle. Azareth didn’t know if that was true, but she did know her mother was often very busy seeing patients.

Azareth stopped outside the door to the throne room. She knew that inside, her family stood waiting for her in front of the king. They would be talking about something so extremely serious, that her parents refused to tell her anything. The large wooden doors had vines and flowers carved into it, showing a design so mesmerizing that Azareth almost didn’t notice the two large guards standing on either side of the door.

“State your business,” the guard to her left said. Azareth turned to him and stood up straight. She saw his army shiny silver in the sun rays from the window. She pushed a piece of her long brown hair behind one pointed ear. She politely smiled at the guard.

“My name is Azareth Yutrit, I was called here for a meeting with King Halamar,” she said. The guards shared a look, they moved and pushed the doors open. Azareth looked ahead and saw her parents standing in front of the king. Her mother’s long green dress twirled slightly when she turned to look at her. Azareth never wore dresses, even as a child. She had always preferred to wear clothing similar to her father.

“Ah, Azareth, please come in,” King Halamar said.

Azareth began walking forward. Her boots thumped on the hard stone floor. Her mother always wanted her to dress as she did, but Azareth just couldn’t bring herself to wear such uncomfortable clothing. Azareth took note of the room around her. Normally a buzz with staff and guards, it was now empty. The long multi-coloured tapestries that covered the wooden walls seem duller in colour today. The stone floors were covered in pollen that blew in off the trees. When she reached where her parents stood, her mother stretched out her hand to her. Azareth just looked at her confused. Her mother’s eyes were red and her cheeks were tear-stained. She turned to face the king and bowed. She heard him give a light chuckle.

“Stand up dear, no need to bow.”

Azareth stood up and knitted her eyebrows together. Halamar grinned at her, sending a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Azareth watched as Halamar intertwined his fingers and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Azareth, do you know why you are here?”

“No, your highness,” Azareth said. Halamar nodded and looked over at her parents. She glanced and saw her parents looking at the floor sadly. Avoiding eye contact with her.

“Your parents have kept something from you,” Halamr began. “A secret about who you are.”

“I’m sorry, your highness, but I don’t understand. I am who I am. An elf that was born without any abilities,” Azareth said. He nodded and then glanced at Hastos and Faylen again. The two of them finally looked over at Azareth causing her to grow more confused as the second ticked past.

“Shall I tell her, or shall you?” King Halamar asked her parents. Azareth turned to look at her parents dazed.

“Oh, Azareth, my sweet girls,” Faylen said. She stepped forward and took Azareth’s hands in hers.

“Ma, what’s going on?” Azareth asked her mother. Azareth leaned away from her mother. “You haven’t said a word this whole time.”

“I know, but you need to know the truth,” Faylen said. Thrown, Azareth looked between her parents and the king a few times.

“This is taking too long,” Halamar said. “Azareth, you are a Dragon Lord.”

Azareth stumbled back a step, feeling her stomach drop as her head began to spin. She stared at the floor horrified, thoughts racing about what this could mean.

“No, that can’t be,” Azareth said. She turned to look at her parents. “Ma, Pa?”

“I’m afraid it is,” Hastos said. He looked in pain, but Azareth wasn’t able to think straight. Her world was crashing down around her. She looked up at the king and he looked down at her with the gravest expression she had ever seen.

“Do you know what this means?” Halamar asked her.

Azareth looked at the ground and covered her mouth. She shook her head feeling tears sting her eyes. “I can’t leave, this is my home. My family is here.”

“I’m sorry, Azareth, but this is how it has to be. This is the way of the world,” Halamr told her. Azareth let her tears slip from her golden eyes. “I’ll give you today to prepare for your journey.”

“What?” The family of three asked. The king looked at them confused.

“One night? To say goodbye to my family?” Azareth asked him. He sighed and leaned back on his throne.

“Please, your highness, this isn't fair.”

“Silence!” Halamar yelled at Faylen. “You broke tradition and now you have to finally deal with the consequences. Suffer what other families have to endure much sooner.”

Just then the doors to the throne room opened. Azareth turned and saw a guard walking towards them.

“Perfect timing,” Halamar said. “Azareth, this is Jurah. He shall be guiding you to Berlar. Prepare your goodbyes, I’ll be there to see you off. Jurah, take them home.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Jurah said. Jurah led the small family out of the throne room. The four of them walked down the long hallways in silence. Azareth could hear her mother sniffling behind her. Azareth’s pale hands were clenched into fists as she tried to remain silent until they were safely out of the castle.

The two-bedroom building wasn’t large, but it had always been home. Azareth walked slowly into the main room and looked around. Everything had always been the same, never changing. Books in piles around the small table and chairs that were placed in the center of the room. Hastos’ maps were scattered in a trail leading from his desk to her parent’s bedroom. A family portrait hung above the fireplace. It had been painted when Azareth was only a small child. Azareth smiled weakly at the portrait, her eyes looking with her younger self. Her hair had always been dark brown, unlike her parents. Their features were fair and gentle compared to hers. Faylen’s hair was so blonde in the sun it looked almost transparent. Hastos’ hair was more of a dirty blonde colour. Her mother was always saying it was stained from him constantly running his ink-covered hands through it. Azareth’s parents walked in, stopping when they saw her.

“Azareth?” Hastos asked. Azareth’s eyes burned with more tears. “Sweetie, please talk to us.”

“When did you know?” Azareth asked, not taking her eyes off of the painting.

“I’m sorry?” Faylen asked. Azareth turned to look at them, holding her breath.

“When did you know I was a Dragon Lord?” She asked. Her parents shared a look before focusing back on Azareth. Her mother had tears in her eyes again.

“When you were eight,” Her father said.

Azareth’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “That’s impossible, Dragon Lord’s don’t start showing abilities until ten.”

“We know, we were confused too. But when you were eight, we caught you playing in the fireplace,” Hastos explained. “We were horrified to find you in there. When we pulled you out, you were unharmed and disappointed we had pulled you out. Don’t you remember?”

“No.”

“You had said that the fire was your friend,” Faylen said. She sniffed and looked over at Azareth. “It’s time we tell you what happened.”

“When what happened?” Azareth asked. Her parents gestured for her to sit down. When the three of them were sat around their small table, the tension grew in the air. Faylen laid her hands on the table in front of her.

“We were on our way to Berlar, we found you on the shore of lake Criwar. After we found you, we returned home and raised you as our own,” Hastos said.

“So it’s true then,” Azareth said. “I’m a Dragon Lord.”

“Yes, we assumed a lord put you in the boat to save you. Berlar burned in the war, we didn’t know anyone survived for years after,” Faylen said.

“And you decided to keep it a secret about how you found me?”

“No, the king knew that we had found you. We just didn’t tell him that you came from the island, he believed we found you in a rural village on the edge of the forest,” Hastos told her.

Azareth looked down at her feet. She couldn’t wrap her head around what she was hearing. She always knew she was different, but to be found abandoned on a beach? She could never imagine that that was her past.

“Azareth, please don’t hate us,” Faylen said.

“I don’t hate you,” Azareth said. She looked up at her parents’ faces. “You are my parents, no matter what happens,” she said looking around the room. “And this will always be my home.” She sniffed. Azareth felt her parents reach over and grip her hands. The three of them stood up from their seats and pulled each other into a hug. Azareth felt herself break down into her mother’s arms while her father’s large hand rested on the back of her head.

It was just before dawn when Azareth woke up. Her parents had helped her collect what she would need for the long journey ahead. Azareth rolled onto her side and looked at her pack next to her door. It was full of provisions, clothes and maps. Sitting up she glanced around her bedroom one last time. The feeling of longing was already forming in her chest. The walls, her bed, everything she was going to miss. Azareth stood up and walked around the room, remembering everything that had happened in it. The paint splatters along the floor and walls from when she tried her hand at painting. Her eyes noticed the holes in every surface of the room from when she took up knife throwing. She had actually gotten satisfactory at that, keeping her knives in her boots at all times. Azareth heard a soft knock on the door, she walked over and opened it. Her parents stood on the other side, they were both fully dressed.

“It’s nearly time,” her father said.

Azareth nodded and shut the door again. She changed into her clothes, a pair of tanned pants, a loose-fitting white shirt and her classic brown leather boots. She tied the strings of her top, so her chest was covered. There was a nip in the air, she could feel it coming through her opened window.

“I’m ready,” Azareth told herself. She stood frozen next to her pack, her hands shaking as she stared at her supplies. She took a deep breath and picked up her pack, tossing it over her shoulder. Opening the door again, she saw her parents were standing together, tears in their eyes. They looked over at her and she gave them a sad smile. “I’ll return someday,” She told them. They looked at her with brokenhearted smiles.

“We know,” her mother said.

Azareth hugged her mother, as a knock sounded from the main door of their home. Hastos answered the door and Azareth looked to see it was the soldier, Jurah. She blinked a few times, this was the first time she was seeing him clearly. His hair was cut so it was just touching the tops of his shoulders. The black hair had small curls at the end. Azareth stared into his eyes, their colour of green made her freeze. He had soft features, except for his jawline. It was the only thing sharp about his face. He wore a white linen shirt under his dark brown leather armour that covered his chest. His pants were a pale olive colour and were tucked into his black leather boots.

“Good morning,” Jurah said. His voice sounded sombre as he spoke. “I’m here for Azareth.” He turned to see that Azareth was standing next to her mother and gestured for her to come outside. Azareth stepped forward, feeling her feet drag along the floor.

“We have to leave now, the horses are ready,” Jurah said. Azareth looked at him confused, walking to the door and seeing two horses in front of her.

“Horses?” She asked. Jurah sighed, turning to look at Azareth coldly.

“Yes, the journey is long. But it will be a thousand times longer if you make us walk there,” he told her.

Azareth’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe that this man was the one she had to trust to get her to Berlar safely. He was attractive on the outside but seemed he was black and chard on the inside.

“Come, we’ll help you gear up,” her father said. He took Azareth’s arm and began to lead her outside. Faylen took her other hand and held it tight, they walked up to the horses Jurah was holding ready for Azareth.

“This is your horse,” Jurah said. He handed her the reins to a beautiful black and white mare. “Her name is Stormlight.”

Azareth walked up to the horse. Stormlight bumped her head into Azareth’s shoulder. A small smile formed on her face as she reached up and rubbed the horse’s nose. “What’s your horse’s name?” Azareth asked Jurah.

“Jurah looked over his shoulder, his eyebrows knitted together. “Foxtail,” he said. He pulled himself up into the saddle. Azareth looked over his horse and saw he was a gorgeous red horse. The way Foxtail moved at the slightest touch of Jurah’s heel, she could see the strong bond they shared.

“Azareth, I marked areas to avoid on your maps,” Hastos said. Azareth nodded her head and she tied her pack to the back of the saddle. Her mother handed her a sleeping mat and blanket to also take with her.

“For the cold nights ahead,” Faylen said.

“Thank you, for everything,” Azareth said. Her parents pulled her into their arms one last time. Azareth felt herself wanting to cry again but refrained from it. Jurah cleared his throat, causing the three of them to pull away from each other.

“I’m sorry, but we need to leave now,” Jurah said. Azareth nodded her head and looked at her parents again.

“Alright,” Azareth said. She climbed into the saddle and looked down at her parents.

“Remember you are always welcomed here,” Hastos said. He gave Azareth’s hand one last squeeze. Faylen followed suit, taking Azareth’s other hand.

“I know, I love you both,” Azareth said.

“We love you too,” Faylen said.

“More than anything,” Hastos said.

Azareth saw that Jurah had begun riding away from the house. She looked back at her parents one last time before she clicked her tongue and Stormlight started to move. Azareth caught up with Jurah and rode beside him. They continued through town, Azareth noticed a lot of familiar faces looking up at her confused. Sana stepped out from behind her table as the two of them rode past. Sana was looking at Azareth for some kind of explanation, but she couldn’t stop to tell her anything.

“I’m sorry,” Azareth mouthed to Sana, hoping someday she would be able to explain and gain her friend's forgiveness. When they reached the entrance to the city, Azareth could see a dozen guards standing around a horse and rider. Right away she knew it was the king, keeping his word to see her off. When the two of them stopped next to the king, Azareth gave a look of unadulterated rage to the king.

“Azareth Yutrit, I hereby permit you to travel to the Island of Doth,” Halamar said. Azareth’s face distorted and she shook her head in disbelief.

“Permit me? You’re the one forcing me to leave Truffween.”

“Azareth, it is not my fault this is happening to you, Your parents-”

“My parents didn’t want to lose their daughter and thanks to you, they have,” Azareth spat out. The guards all shifted in their spots, ready to protect their king. Halamar raised his hand for them to stand down.

“I hope your travels are safe and uneventful,” Halamar said. “Good luck, Azareth.”

Jurah and Azareth watched as the king waved his hand and the party began to walk back in the direction of the castle. Azareth took a shaky breath, before clicking her tongue and riding through the city’s entrance. Jurah caught up with her, joining her and riding off in silence.