Prologue

A long time ago in a land far, far away, the kingdom of Branth had long been in a terrible war with the kingdom of Pyra.  This war had been going on for generations and there seemed to be no end to the fighting.  No one could even remember the original cause except for a couple dusty old historians, and they never emerged from the bowels of the royal library to inform anyone.  But that did not truly matter.  New reasons to fight came in every day with the day's lists of dead and wounded and the longer the war went on the fewer the chances for peace became.  Each generation fed upon the anger and hatred, the fear and the pain of the last, multiplying it anew and passing it on to their own children.  The enemy was dehumanized and villified to make killing easier and both sides saw themselves as the maligned side of good, fighting against the great evil.

Sons went into the war to avenge a father's death on the battlefield and brothers followed to avenge brother's deaths.  The ideals of the past were replaced by practical new consideration.  Women fought in battles and became equals where once they never would have been welcome.  Those that stayed at home were hard pressed to feed themselves from day to day.  Children learned how to fight from an early age and even the royal families looked and acted more like generals than kings.  Orphanages overflowed, becoming one of the best recruitment avenues for the ever hungry army.  Social niceties and political maneuvering were luxuries that could not be afforded when every second lost could mean the lives of hundreds.  But for all that, the fighting came and went in spasms.  For years there would be an uneasy peace that would then break out again in to fighting.  Peace talks and treaties had been discussed between the two countries several times, but pride and distrust always won out, and the fighting continued.

It was during one of these periods of unofficial peace that the old King of Branth died and his only surviving child took the throne.  Joxen, the new King, was recently married and was expecting his first child, when he was crowned.  Joxen dearly wanted to see his child grow up and have it's own children, but he knew that with each battle he led his people into, it could be the one that saw him captured or mortally wounded.  He might never know his child, or his child may never have a proper childhood.  He had grown up during the war and remembered his own fear that at any time news of his father's death would come.  He never wanted to put his own children through that.  He wanted his own children to grow up in happier times, times of peace and prosperity.

In the King's fear, he struck out in search of the Fey.  The mythic creatures of magick and mystery that lived deep in the heart of the forest.  They were said to be the oldest of the sentient races still around and had learned many things in the years that they had lived.  Beauty and nature, order and peace were what they strove for but they were still dangerous to the unwary, none the less.  Once they had ruled the land that was Branth but they had long ago retreated deep into the forests and left humans to pick up what was left.  They might be able to help him if he could find them and convince them to listen to his plea.

The King searched the forests, going farther in than any other human had in a  long time.  As he searched he came upon many wondrous creatures.  Dryads jealously guarded their trees, while Naiads warned him to drink only what he needed from their waterways.  Always after drinking from such a spot the young King was better able to think and deal with his problems.  Once he stumbled upon a hidden temple and was barely able to escape from the Naga that guarded it's ancient gods.  Joxen learned to avoid such spots after that encounter.

Then, as he was beginning to doubt if he'd would succeed, an Elf came to him at last.

The Elf stood tall  in the meadow before Joxen.  Pure white hair was tied back out of his face and the tips of his ears poked through the hair a little on either side.  Though the Elf's face was unlined with the marks of age though an air of great wisdom and age hung about him like an invisible cloak.  The bow in his hand and quiver on his back were well used but also well cared for and the wood gleamed with recent oiling.  He was a force not to be taken lightly.

"What is your business that you would search out the Fey, mortal?" the elf asked.  His voice was like his looks, old and yet young.  Impossible to place, it had a certain musical quality to it that made you want to listen for the pure joy of listening.

"I come in hope the you will aid me in the war between my kingdom and Pyra." he replied, all he carefully rehearsed lines falling away.

"The Fey do not take sides in Human conflicts unless there is some greater purpose than death." The tall man said, contempt clear in his tone and stance at the very idea of joining in a merely Human war.

The Elf's words confused him for a second, the wording giving him some hint of a greater mystery,  but he shrugged it off and concentrated on what he understood, and what he felt. 

"I wish an end to the fighting so that my children may know peace in this world instead of death.  I ..." the King swallowed and looked down at his hands, trying to find the words to express himself, "I want peace and am willing to pay almost anything for it."

The Elf stood and stared at him for what seemed to be an eternity, measuring him against some unknown standard.

"And what makes you think that we of the forest can have any influence over your mortal wars?  And even if we could, why should we?  Humans have long let it been known that they care little for the other races and consider themselves superior to all.  And yet you still come begging to us for help and expect us to give it to you so that you may go back to your contemptful ways."

The King bowed his head.  He knew the truth of the Elven words.  His people indeed had turned against the other races.  They feared the greater power and strength of the other sentient races.  There was no denying this charge and the King was wise enough not to try.

Finally the King looked up into the Elf's eyes, "Please, if you can help, I beg of you to.  I will give you anything you ask to end this that is in my power."

The Elf looked at him in silence and finally nodded to himself.

"We will not fight in your mortal's war, but we do agree that this war has lasted too long.  Your fighting is hurting the very earth and has begun to affect other realms, for it is true that war respects no boundaries.  Therefore, we shall arrange for two great warriors to come, one to fight for each kingdom.  Between these two will your fates be decided.  This will take time.  And in exchange for this we want all of the Fey to be welcome in your kingdom for so long as you and your blood reign.  Return the forests to us and grant us the right to live here without fearing your soldiers will come seeking our blood.  Any Fey who betrays your hospitality will be dealt with by us.  Do you agree, mortal?" the elf asked.

"I agree." the King stated immediately, hope flowing through him at the elf's words, hardly daring to believe that it was that easy.  Land and safe passage was hardly a huge price, not in Branth where the forests were immense and avoided by farmers in favor of easier tilled fields.  While he did not have victory garunteed, he did at last have a hope.  Peace would come and the fighting would end.

"Go now, back to your mate and lands.  It will take a time for us to create the spells and a few more years for the warriors to become ready.  Never doubt that they are coming though." And with that the elf melted into the forest leaving the King with unanswered questions and a dazed feeliong.  After having searched for so long, he had not expected to get an answer in a matter of minutes.  He had expected to have to ask his request of several of the Fey, pass tests and give all sorts of impassioned speeches.  It all felt rather silly now.

He realized what the Elf had said.  The Fey must have merely been waiting for someone to ask for them for help.  It was the only explaination for that one's quick answers.  Surely the Elves would have consulted amongst themselves before making such a decision.  Why they had not acted without the plea for help he could only guess at.  The results were the same either way.  They had had it all figured out before he ever got there.  But there was no guarantee that Branth would win the war.  Everything still depended upon the skill of the warriors fighting the battles.

The King turned towards home with a sigh, the sigh of a much older man.  He understood that a few years to the immortal Elves could mean decades but in the mean time he was determined to do what had to be done and hope for the warriors to come soon.

Once home. Joxen was able to continue the shaky peace for the next few years.  The Fey were still rarely seen in his kingdom but it was evident that they had moved in and were now seen closer to the kingdom's heart than they had ever been in anyone's memory.  Orders were sent out to all the towns and villages that the Fey were to be left alone.  Fewer problems occurred than had been originally anticipated by the King.  The Fey kept to themselves and were so slow in coming out that even the most conservative hardly noticed what was happening.  Though when a few villages' women became mysteriously pregnant after long walks in the woods the old rumors of Elven magic were revived.

During this time, the King's first child, a son, was born.  Only a year later, the Queen gave birth to another child, this time a daughter.  The two children grew up in this time of war and violence.  And yet, it was also now a time of peace with the Fey.  Since their father was often gone on long campaigns, the two were left in the care of servants.  Their mother was too busy with the day to day cares of the household and kingdom to watch after her children.

The son was quickly becoming a grave and dignified personality, carefully attending to all of his lessons with little time for humor.  The daughter, on the other hand, often managed to escape the watchful eyes of her well meaning nurses and cause mischief somewhere.  She found that life was much more interesting if the adults weren't always there to filter out things.  It was when she was alone that she heard the best jokes and stories and saw a more realistic picture of the world than any wanted her to see.

After one such time, she was hiding in the weapons shed, watching in delight as one of her most stuffy nurses had well bred hysterics, when the Weaponsmaster came in and discovered her. A man that was too old to go campaigning, he stayed behind to train the young fighters who would be going to the front lines.  He had seen her giggling in the corner and tapped her on the shoulder with a rather large battle ax.  When she spun around and saw him, her eyes grew huge in her head.  At the time he had seemed a huge, scary, unstoppable warrior.  In the Weaponsmaster's case, he saw a little girl with eyes that were almost popping out of her head and had chuckled at the comical sight.  He then got rid of the hysterical nurse, informing her that the child would have come if she had been there, and let the little girl follow him around for the rest of the day. Though neither one realized it at the time, that had been the beginnings of a strong friendship that would survive the trials of time. 

It was him that pointed out to the Queen that the King's daughter, Morgan, would need to know how to defend herself, just as her older brother was learning to, in case of assassination attempts or if the battles ever came to her. Not to mention that it would keep her busy and relieve the much harried servants and nurses.  After some argument  the Queen finally relented.  With this, she began her warriors training at the tender age of four.

Morgan and the Weaponsmaster, Ailester, were friends from the beginning and had a deep respect for one another.  She was a quick learner and was taught everything Ailester knew.  Morgan would follow him around, asking questions and just observing things that happened.  She was his constant shadow from that first day, eagerly soaking in everything the gruff warrior had to say.  She was drilled in tactics and fighting everyday, learning both the ritual dueling and the common soldier's way of fighting, with all the dirty tricks an grizzled old veteran could think of.  She learned many of the assassins' tricks as well, because "if you know the assassins' tricks, than you are one up on the assassin".  Which is exactly what the young princess informed her outraged nurse when she saw her practicing with a stilleto.

Ailester also was the one who first allowed the young princess to see the victims of war.  Around her ninth birthday, for one of their daily lessons, Ailester took her into the healers tent after a major battle.  Though this far from the front lines, the wounded were all going to live, it was still something that she had never seen before.  Men and women, bloodied and bandaged, groaning with the pain that the healers had no way to fully erase.  After this first visit, Morgan began to spend more and more time with the healers, helping wherever she could.  This won her no friends in her father's court who wanted a dutiful and proper princess but the soldiers on the field loved being waited on by their princess. 

Her father came back to find that the moral of his troops was rising as his daoughter became something of a mascot of the army.  The common soilders were fiercly protective of her and loved the way the little princess way so much a part of the army.  Soilders who would never see the King or the Crown Prince got to talk to and tease the princess daily.  She held their loyalty at the tender age of ten.

As she learned and grew, the fighting between the two kingdoms became worse.  Her father was away for greater stretches of time, though the time he was at home he made count.  Soon, Morgan had another brother, James, in addition to her older brother, Robert, and two sisters, Celeste and Ania.  Morgan loved them and protected them   fiercely from as much as she could.  But she was also an older sister and allowed to torment them, at least in her own mind.  Robert would have rather had them all be perfect all the time and often yelled at the littles before they committed the crime.  Morgan, even when it was obvious they were going to get into trouble, waited till they actually committed the act before scolding them.  And on occasion, helped them escape punishment.  When her brother grew frustrated at this attitude, she would always reply that there was always a chance that they may think better of their actions beforehand.  Miracles do still occasionally happen.

And she met her fist Elf.  A tall slim man who found her walking alone in the gardens.  She was in awe of the beautiful man and went through the introductions in something of a daze.  But after that initial introduction, she always encountered one of the Elves every few weeks.  She assumed that they were there to speak to her father and never inquired about their business.  Instead, she asked, with a child's innocence, about where they lived and their families. They taught her the things that they taught their own youngling, about the earth and wisdom and balance.  The Fey told her of the history of their people, their mistakes and their triumphs, their own heroes and villains.  It was from them that she learned how to live without war.

The King was rarely home at this time.  Battles were becoming more and more frequent again.  But when he was home, he worried about his children.  His oldest daughter wasn't being accepted by the nobles of his court.  He couldn't get anyone to point out where the problem lay though.  He studied his friends' daughters and saw how they were protected, how they spoke softly and seemed almost frail, as if a strong wind would knock them down.  When he looked at his daughter though, few of these things were apparent.  She refused to be protected and was proud of her strength.  Though she talked softly, her words could be turned easily into a weapon which she wielded as skillfully as a sword.  Though King Joxen knew she was not an ideal courtier, he was proud of her, proud that she was not weak and frail, proud that if anything ever happened to him and Robert, she would be able to rule.  And proud of the fact that even if the Court did not love her, the common people did and that was even better.

So time passed...

Chapter I

Morgan sat in the glen watching two birds build their nest.  She was fascinated by how well they could work together.  The birds seemed to go about their jobs without complaint and without needing to constantly debate each twig placement.  Also, these two birds didn't seem to be upset by the fact that they were sharing their tree with two other birds that were of a different type.  They were content to share, even with those that were different.

A slight rustling behind her announced the elf's presence.  She knew that was for her benefit.  If the elf hadn't wanted her to hear him, she wouldn't have.  She sighed inwardly, someday she would be able to do that.  Maybe.

"Hello Silversong." she greeted the elf.

"Hello young warrior." the elf replied.

Morgan looked up at Silversong and shook her head. "You are the only one who has ever called me a warrior.  Why?"

"Why do I name you warrior or why am I the only one who gives you this title?"

"Both I guess." she replied.

"You have the warriors heart and courage.  You know when to fight and when the odds are too great.  I am the only one who can acknowledge this because I am just an Elf and everyone knows that we are a bunch of evil tricksters, not to be listened to." he said chuckling, "You are the King's daughter and although everyone knows that you have learned how to fight, to kill, no one wants to admit that you are deviating from a princesses' proper way of life."

Morgan smiled sadly at the elf.  Then she allowed her smile to become a frown.

"I wish...Oh, I don't know what I wish for.  I wish that didn't have to learn the warriors path but...I love the warriors path.  I love the feel of a blade in my hand and fighting an opponent.  But I don't want to kill.  I don't want to die bleeding on some battlefield and I am sick of hearing about all the people who ended their lives just like that." she finished with a frustrated sigh and fell on to the ground and laid there, staring up at the clouds moving in the sky as if they held the answers to the universe.

"What do you want?" Silversong asked the young girl, taking a seat beside her.

"What I have always wanted, what I have no chance of getting, freedom. A chance to just be who I am.  To test the boundaries of my soul."  Morgan made a face at that, "I sound like one of those naive maidens from a ballad."

Silversong sighed and sat down beside her.  "I can offer you no advice other than to do what is right, for you and for others.  You were not brought into this world to be free.  You have a greater purpose than that of a normal human and, as a result, you must pay a higher price."

"But I don't want what I'm paying for."  Morgan muttered angrily.

"But the Gods want you to have it.  And what the Gods want, they generally get.  When you are strong enough to challenge the Gods, then they may ask you what you want.  But I wouldn't count on it."

Morgan looked over and gave a small smile, "That's what you always say."

"That is because I am always right."  Silversong replied hautily.

* * * * *

The rest of the day passed quickly.  Morgan was working with Ailester in the practice field when her stomach announced that it had not been fed lately.  Ailester laughed at his student and teased her all the back to the gates about being a bottomless pit.

Morgan turned suddenly and raised her practice sword, "Prepare to defend yourself, you black hearted dog.  For the honor of my stomach!"

The two spared until Ailester finally conceded defeat as he was bent over from laughing.  It was a sight that several of the army recuits, who swore Ailester had no sense of humor, would have been shocked speechless to see.  Luckily the pair was alone and so their reputations emerged once again unscathed.  The two then sepperated, each going to their chambers to get cleaned up in time for dinner.

Morgan ran into her room where a bath waited for her.  She scrubbed herself clean and changed into a clean skirt that had also been laid out for her.  After buckling on her sword, she made a dash for the dining room.  Outside the huge double doors, she slowed down from an all out run to a statly walking pace.  As she walked to her spot at the high table her mother gave one disapproving glance at the sword before returning all her attention to the Count's hunting stories.

Morgan slid into her seat with a sigh, then a hiss.  The bruises she had gotten today would make a pretty picture on her back and arms in the morning.  She had been training some of the recruits.  Ailester had assigned her to several hulking brutes who had been conviced their superior strength would win them all fights.  It had been her job to show them the error of their ways.  Unfortunatly, it had required taking a couple rather forceful blows on her part. 

She attacked her food as soon as she could, bolting it down just slow enough so she wouldn't choke.  Her two sisters weren't even half done with theirs when Morgan helped herself to her second serving.  They grinned at her, for they had all had practice with the Weaponsmaster.  Hunger was just part of it.  James, who was sitting to her left, leaned over and whispered that there was going to be another council of war meeting tonight, so he would not be able to make it tonight.

The two of them had been going to take some horses and practice night riding.  It was really an excuse to get away and talk with out having to worry about who might be offended by this comment or that joke.  Ania, Celeste and Robert usually came also, but they had already had duties for tonight.

"Well, I am going.  If I don't get out of here soon, I am going to lose what little mind I have left." she whispered back.

"I know the feeling." James said as he settle back into his seat with a sigh as the Count began the retelling of one of his stories that they had all heard at least a hundred times.

That night, as darkness fell, Morgan found her horse and rode out.  The horse, Chance, was a tall black mare.  Chance was eighteen hands tall and had grown up with Morgan.  When Morgan was first learning how to train a horse she was given Chance as a yearling.  The two had at first fought, neither one willing to accept the other as master.  After a while though, a partnership formed.  Chance allowed Morgan to ride her and Morgan admitted that sometimes the horse had better sense than she did.  Together they became a great team.  They moved almost as one, each anticipating the others moves and thought and compensating for whatever weaknesses either horse or rider may have. Together they had been able to win races and duels until they were banned from the competitions.

That did not mean that they never fought any more though.  Both Morgan and Chance were extremely stubborn and when one decided that she was right, may the gods take pity on the one who disagreed.  Morgan had been seen more than once screaming and cursing at Chance, while the horse snorted and attempted to charge her rider from the other side of the field.  But sooner or later the two would agree to disagree (or beat each other senseless so they forgot the argument as they healed).  Many of the Court laughingly said that it was almost like the pair could actually speak to one another.

As these two raced into the night, Morgan felt like the weight of the world was falling off her shoulders.  Here she could do anything and there was no one to look on disapprovingly.  There were no soilders to train and no wounded to patch up.  She could enjoy the silence of her own company.  When she was alone she could be anyone, do anything.  She felt free.

The two slowed a little so they wouldn't hit a tree and Morgan let Chance choose their direction while Morgan's thoughts focused themselves upon the war.  It was a reoccurring theme.  There had to be a way in which things could be changed.  Right now, the kingdoms were once again in an uneasy stalemate.  Every time they fought, the out come was a draw and the only result was the deaths of more good people on both sides.

That was the one thing that Morgan could never master, turning her enemy into a faceless target that represented everything evil and wrong with the world while her people represented all that was good.  She could always see the families and friends that would still be around to mourn after the fighting was over.  This was why she wasn't planning ways to kill tonight with her brother and her father at the war council.  She always looked at the statistics and saw people and faces instead of numbers.  War was stupid and senseless, but, she thought with a slight smile, it was what she was good at.  Didn't speak to highly of her but she'd live with it.

As they rode farther in to the woods she noticed a small light darting around.  She squinted at it and then suddenly smiled.  It was a fairy.  Fairies were small creatures that looked like a small version of elves except for the wings sprouting from their backs.  But where elves were reserved and quiet, fairies moved like the hummingbirds they resembled.  Morgan had never seen a fairy stand still or stop moving.  They were also incredibly fast.  They zipped around and were often used to carry messages, although their playful attitude sometimes required you to spend some time trying to get the message out of them.

This fairy was one she knew.  Her name was Jinx, which had always seemed an appropriate name.  Jinx came up to her in a second and flew up to her face.

"Silversong have important message, news about bad things coming.  Follow Jinx, she take you to Silversong." Jinx said and was already up the path before her words registered.  Morgan sent Chance flying after the tiny messenger.  If Silversong had sent that message, something bad was going to happen, and soon.

Chapter II

They finally came to a small clearing in the woods.  Silversong was standing there talking to another elf while two other fairies took off into the woods headed in opposite directions.  The other elf nodded once, turned, and walked into the trees as she approached.  Silversong looked up at her, for she was still on Chance's back.

"The war has woken a dragon, one of the Elders." he said in a low voice.

For a moment the words made no sense.  An Elder had awoken.  The Elders were creatures such as dragons that had shown up in the world's history at major turning points.  No one really understood where they came from or why they were here.  They were believed to be creatures that were either completely good or creatures of total evil.  Some believed that they were true servants of the gods if not demi gods themselves, called into being by an overabundence of good or evil in the world.  She knew what the panic she sensed all around meant.  Still, she couldn't help herself from asking.

"Which kind?"

"Evil." His answer sounded like it came from far away.  An evil Elder, one of the dragon kind, had been awakened by the war.  It kept going around and around inside of her head.  They were said to have teeth that were as large as a man standing straight and only once had humans ever managed to kill an Elder.  That had been with an entire army.  The man who actually managed to kill the dragon had been the only one alive after the battle and even he had died of his wounds a day later.  Sometimes a one Elder would rise and battle another Elder but the aftermath of the fights were as devastating as everything else, and that was hoping the Good One defeated the Evil.  If not...

Morgan thought of the dragons that she had known all her life.  The dog-sized ones that had been known to kill cows and horses.  These had always been dangerous but they were easy enough to get rid of as long as you didn't do anything stupid such as tackle it by your self at close range.  The smaller dragons that were vermin and as pesky as mice.  And the larger ones.  The ones that were larger than horses and said to be riden by the armies of the North.  Even these were nothing compared to the Great Ones.

She shook her head as if to clear it but all the stories the elves had told her of the Great Ones continued to whisper to her.  Stories of their power, the ancient battles that had destroyed whole kingdoms, the deaths.  She finally dismounted and turned to look into Silversong's face.  She read concern there and a little fear, which shook her to the core.  It was okay for her to be scared, she was just a human, but Silversong was one of the ancient Elves, almost immortal.  She had never seen him afraid of anything before.  How did anyone stand a chance against something that made even the Fey scared?

"Where is it?" she heard herself asking and was shocked by her own voice.  It reflected none of her fear.  Rather it was calm and cold, as if she wasn't shaking inside.

"It is at the border between your kingdom and Pyra.  It has not yet decided what it would like to do but it will soon move and no matter where it goes, the effects of it's actions will be felt everywhere."  Silversong replied softly. 

"I will have to tell the King immediately." she said and made as if to mount Chance again.

"Wait, you may not find the world quite rational when you return from here.  Come with me, this shall not take long.  I have something for you." Silversong said and started to walk away. 

Morgan was given no choice but to follow him but silently she chaffed at the delay.  She knew, intellectually, that it made no differance whether she left now or an hour from now but her entire body seemed tense, like a bow pulled taunt waiting for the signal to let the arrow fly.

They came to huge tree.  Five grown men could not have circled the tree if they had stood fingertip to fingertip around it's base.  This is where Silversong stopped.  Lying on the ground was a small silver ring.  She stared at this, for it was well known that all that Fey were highly vulnerable to silver.  It's very touch could burn them.  To have silver here was similar to finding a vial of poison in the King's kitchen's. 

"Take this ring.  With it you will be able to live through the hottest fire and come out free from burns.  Also, the magick of the ring will protect anyone else you are touching at the time.  It is unfortunate that the Fey cannot use it but I believe that it is in good hands with you."  Silversong smiled as if at his own joke, "This ring has a partner made of gold, but I could not say where it is right now.  That is a ring that heals all but the worst mortal wounds.  Both are useful in their own ways.  If you ever find it, let me know."

Mogan carefully picked up the ring and examined it.  It was hard to see with only the moon's light to illuminate the area.

Silversong stood staring at her before nodding brifly to himself, "Go now, and give your King the news but do not be surprised to find that war is a irrational thing and causes others to become irrational as well."

Morgan slid the ring onto her finger and left at a dead run.  She vaulted onto Chance's back and the two of them raced away.  Chance seemed to catch on to the urgency she was feeling and fairly flew through the night.  Still, the trip seemed to take forever as fear knotted her stomach.  As the neared the castle they never slowed down till Chance slid to a halt in the courtyard before the large wooden doors.  The huge horse hung its head, its sided heaving.  Without waiting for a groom to take care of her horse, Morgan jumped off Chance and ran for the stairs.  She knew that the stable hands would see to Chance.

As she reached the doors of the council chamber she managed to slow enough so that she knocked on the doors before she entered.  The council looked like it was about to break up when she walked in.  It looked like it had been a long night and everyone knew that her interruption could only mean that it would be that much longer before everyone got to their beds.
"Sire," she said and bowed to her father, "I have just received some news.  One of the Great Ones has awoken and is on the border between Branth and Pyra.  It is a dragon of evil."  She waited for her words to sink in.
The King suddenly smiled.  "Our luck is with us today.  This dragon will harass our enemy and give us time to plan our next attack.  You were just saying councilors how what we needed most was a distraction.  This is good news, the best I have heard in a long time.  Evil will be used for good, I think, here." 
She stared at her father.  He couldn't be serious.  She listened numbly as the other people said the same things.  How this dragon would give them time, how this was a gift from the gods and what perfect timing.  She was too confused by everyone's reaction to her news that she didn't find her voice till everyone except her father and two brothers had cleared out.
"You can't be serious! The Great One won't just leave us alone, it will destroy everything." she finally got out.
The other three looked at her.  "It is just an oversized dragon.  It won't do any real damage, Morgan.  Those old stories of Great Ones were just tales.  Things that got exaggerated with every telling.  I think you are just jumping at shadows." James said.
"Yes, all those old stories are just exaggerations, nothing can truly be that terrible.  Nothing can be purely evil." Robert added quickly after looking at his sister's face.
"I think you were just shocked by your own news. In the morning everything will seem right.  In fact, I believe it is time for us all to go to sleep." And with that the King left the room.  Her brothers left at a slower pace.  They were torn.  They respected both they're father and they're sister.  They were unsure as to who was right, but for now they would follow their father, the King, and so they left their sister with her mouth hanging open.
Morgan went back to her own rooms and laid down on the bed.  She knew they were wrong.  How could they be so sure that this was something that was good and could used like a weapon?  How could they even think of using something as powerful and deadly as a weapon.  It was just as likely to turn on their own people as Pyra.  Her father was wrong even to think of such a thing.
  For a second she doubted herself for her father was King and his word was law but then she remembered the fear in Silversong's face.  No, this was not something she could just dismiss and let it take care of it's self.  She looked at the ring on her finger.  She had forgotten to tell them about it, which was just as well now.  They would have taken it from her and that would make things difficult.
Suddenly she sat up.  She could not just sit here and wait for everyone else to come to their senses.  That would only happen after the dragon attacked them and then it would be too late. She could maybe slow the dragon down a little.  She looked at the ring again.  She might even be able to wound it enough that the next people to fight it had an easier job of it.  She didn't even bother thinking that she might live through what she was about to do, let alone kill this Great One.  You needed a army to even attempt that.

Chapter III

She left that night.  She wore her leather armor and carried her sword, Kali, the thirsty one, at her side.  Her sword had been a gift from the old Weaponsmaster the day after she had finally beaten him in a match.  She looked down at it now, remembering his words.
"Girl, I don't know what drives you but you're like this sword, thirsty.  You're looking for something and even you don't know what it is but when you find it I believe this sword will serve you well."
He had fallen ill two years later and died.  this sword was all that she had left of him and always reminded her of his teachings in both life and sword play.
Her bedroll and spears were all tied to Chance's saddle.  This was how they rode off just before sunrise.  Many of the servants saw her but were not surprised.  They were used to Morgan's strange schedule and seeing her in armor was by no means a new sight.  In fact, they probably would have taken more notice if she had been riding out and not been in some sort of armor.  These were dangerous times after all, and even the princess should be careful unless she finds herself another captive of the enemy or worse.
They rode off down the rode, making camp at night.  As they approached the boarder where the dragon was supposed to be the game became harder to find and the land it's self seemed ill.  The trees were beginning to die and the grass was turning brown.  It looked like the beginning of winter instead of the middle of summer.  Though the wind blew hot across the plains, like it came from the unfriendly desert instead on the cool and welcoming forests.
A few times Morgan saw an army camped out.  They went around them and avoided them no matter which side the army fought for.  If she had been seen by either side it would have been the end of her.  A few times she came upon a troop that was wearing the colors of Pyra.  She gave them extra wide berth as she crept around them.  No thoughts of a daring, single handed attack ever occurred to her.  It would be suicide and a less productive suicide mission than the one she was on now.  Besides, these poor humans were not what she was hunting.  They were probably unaware of the danger they were in as it was.  The Great One was still ahead of her, but not far.
As they traveled, Morgan tested out her ring.  She would build fires and stick parts of her anatomy in the fire.  She soon learned that anything the was touching her skin would not catch but if she was wearing, for instance, a shift under her armor, the armor would burn while the sift would come through unhurt.  This caused her some pause.  Although her leather armor was flexible, she had never before worn it on without something between her and it such as a shirt.  This was now impossible and would take some getting used to.

* * * * *

She and Chance were camped out in a little valley.  That night, neither of them could sleep.  Morgan knew the Great One was close.  They had seen no game for days and the water in lakes and streams had been nearly dried out.  This put a drain on the supplies that they had been carrying with them.  Morgan spent most of the night trying to enjoy the beauty of the stars.  She also said her prayers and made her peace with the world.  She tried to be prepared for what tomorrow would bring but knew that she was failing.
Chance was tied to an old tree and was standing with her head down.  Morgan wasn't sure if the horse was really asleep or just pretending for her sake.  Either way, it was a good example that Morgan tried to copy.  She might have even dozed a little as the night dragged on.
As the dawn came, both woman and horse watched it together.  They had given up sleep and had curled up together to offer each other what comfort they could.  Now, as morning came, Morgan mounted and they rode out of their valley, right into the Great One mouth.

Chapter IV

Chance screamed at their first sight of the dragon.  Nothing Morgan had been told came close to the reality.  The scales were a dark, dark red that at first appeared to be black. The light showed of highlights of the scales, making them flare crimson.  The ground around it was thick with soot and the few remaining trees were merely black monuments to the Great One's passing. 
The dragon wasn't paying any attention to them.  It seemed to have caught some prey that it was playing with.  The dragons tail seemed to be slowly wrapping around it's massive body, edging closer to the dragon's prey.  It was then that she got her first good look at what this creature had caught.  It was a person, a person who wasn't paying attention to the tail that was just about to hit him.
Morgan loosened the straps on one of the spears and held it.  With out thinking, for if she thought about what she was going to do, she would run away and hide, Morgan charged the dragon.  The dragon's huge head whipped around at the sound of Chance's hooves.  It moved with a viper's liquid speed.  She threw the spear at the soft spot where the jaw met the neck.  The dragon moved faster than anything that size should have moved so the spear hit closer to the front of the jaw than she had been aiming. 
Morgan looked back and saw the dragon rear up.  Her spear had bounced off the thick hide of the dragon's jaw.  As the Great One reared up, it spread it's wings and the sun it's self was blocked, throwing the area into a premature night.  Morgan wondered that these creatures were able to die, much less be killed by mere humans.  For finally she understood what made the Great Ones different.  She had seen it in that second when the dragon had looked at her.  It was an intelligent creature.  As smart or smarter than her.  Instead of just being an animal that thought more with instinct than actual logic.  It was totally unlike all the other dragons she had seen.
She had seen the intelligence in it's eyes.  Not only had this Dragon seen and reacted to her and her spear, it had understood what all these things were.  She could almost see it calculating out the distance between them and how much damage she could take versus the damage of the Dragon. 
It was scary to witness all that intelligence being used to decide weather to play with it's food or just eat it.  It got scarier when you were the food.
The other was on foot, his own horse had run to a cluster of sheltering rocks.  Both humans ran to this area.  Morgan dismounted and walked over to the other who was talking softly to his much frightened horse.
"Who the hell are you and what do you think you're doing here?" he demanded, spinning around to face her as she got closer.  He was so covered in ash that it was hard to spot the bruises or wounds he might have had.
"I'm probably doing the same thing you are, sacrificing myself to the dragon in hopes of making the next person's job easier." she said.  The adrenaline now coursing through her body let her joke about the situation, though to her it was a feeble joke at best.  The other person's lips twitched as he tried to keep from smiling as he acknowledged with a nod that she was right. 
"What do you say, we can probably do more damage together?" She said hopefully and held out her hand.  He looked down at it for a second and then smiled.
"Lets go get killed." he replied as he took her hand and shook it. "We need some sort of plan, some way where one of us can get close enough to attack the vulnerable parts of that thing." he said as he glanced out at the dragon.  It was curled up like a cat, patiently waiting for the mice to come back out and play.
They talked for a short while, tossing back and forth ideas while the dragon continued to wait for them.  She admitted to owning the silver ring and told him what it did.  He laughed and joked about wishing he had come so prepared.  Finally they were ready.  The plan was simple; Morgan was to fight the dragon face to face because she didn't have to worry about fire.  The other would come from behind and try to get under the dragon with a spear so the could get through the soft underside of the belly and pierce the dragons heart.  They did not bother exchanging names.  It would probably make it easier on the other when the first one died.
For the two of them had no illusions of survival.  To fight a creature such as this was to die.  It was simply a matter of who would die first and how much of the Dragon's hide they could take with them into the underworld.
Morgan crept out of the safety of the rocks.  On Chance, she rode up to the dragon.  The Great One watched her approach with a lazy expression on it's face.  She headed towards the dragon.  She tried to keep a calm expression on her face as if she was merely going up and around a rather large hill.  Chance shivered but continued on while Morgan marveled at the great horse's courage. 
The closer to the dragon she got the more beautiful she realized it was.  It's large thin head was attached to a long and graceful neck.  The eyes, so full of intelligence, were red colored as well and slitted like a cats.  In fact, the creature had a lot in common with the cat.  Even it's tail seemed to twitch of it's own accord, telling of the emotions that were otherwise unreadable on that giant scaled face.
As she came closer to the dragon, she threw her spear as hard as she could and wheeled Chance around as if running away.  The dragon moved it's massive head so that the spear hit and got caught between two scales above the dragon's eye ridge.  The Great One opened it's jaws and fire came rushing after her.
As the fire reached her, it sizzled and cracked like lightning.  The fire ripped at her clothes and burned them away.  It then attacked her throat, trying to claim her life and burn her body.  The fire managed to singe her hair finally as the last of it passes.  Her bare hand, that had been holding on to Chance's mane received a large blister.  The saddle disappeared into a mass of ashes as Morgan relized the oversight.
Chance screamed a warning as the dragon's face came down.  Morgan had been blinded by the fire and could barely make out the dragon's head coming down, as if to nuzzle them.  Then the Great One hisses loudly and whipped around.  The other man had managed to get under the dragon and pierce its thick hide with his spear when it had raised it's head.
The dragon lifted it's body, and with one of it's hind feet, wrapped around the man who had hurt it and tossed him into the rocks.  When he hit the ground he did not move.  Morgan saw a little of this as the dragon turned back to her.  It lowered it's head again and she knew that it was going to eat them.  But the spear was still lodged in it's body, though she had no idea how much damage had really been done.
Morgan fell off of Chance and stared at the dragon's lowering head.  For a second the lady and the dragon stared at each other.  All of the world seemed to slow down as she knelt down and picked up her first spear, the one that had bounced off.  She walked forward slowly till she was a finger's length away from the dragon's muzzle.  It's hot breath scalded her and she knew that not even the ring's magick could help her if the dragon let loose it's fire upon her at such a close range.
The dragon's eyes though were set on the sides of it's head.  Enough so that it was now unable to see her.  It slowly raised it's massive head so that it could again see her.  In doing this, Morgan's gamble paid off.  She took the spear and ran it strait into the area where the head attached to the neck with all of her strength.  The spear lodged it's self all of the way in.
The Dragon's massive body seemed to cave in upon her and it weight began to crush her body.  One of her clear thoughts was a comment on how cold it's scales were.  Somehow she had always assumed that a Dragon's body would be hot because of it's inner fire.
The dragon screamed in pain and with one of it's massive claws, reached down and grabbed a hold of her.  One of it's claws went through her left arm and she screamed again in pain.  The Dragon threw her into one of the dead trees.  As her back slammed into it she heard something snap and sent a silent prayer to who ever was listening that it wasn't her spine.  The dragon was still screaming, the terrible sound followed her all the way into oblivion and continued to echo in her thoughts.

Chapter V

She awoke to the awoke to the sounds of someone arguing with her horse.  Her only thought was that was some how wrong, she was the only one who seemed to get into shouting matches with her horse.  Who else would have anything to do with that stubborn creature?
"Look horse, either let me through to help your mistress or do it yourself." came a voice that was obviously being forced out through clenched teeth.
"Oh please, don't let her do it.  She'll take this as a chance to get me back for all those times I won an argument." Morgan said.  Or at least that had been the plan.  Her voice seemed to sound more like a groan and she wondered why she was laying on the ground.
Just then the pain hit her and it felt like her entire body was on fire.  With the pain came the memories of what had happened and exactly how she had gotten each bruise and hole in her body.  Finally the pain overwhelmed her and she passed out.

She was becoming aware of each bruise and cut that was screaming at her.  And consciousness seemed to be returning though sleep had been nicer.  She groaned softly and to her surprise a horse head was thrust into her face.  She couldn't do anything except put up with the thorough search of her person.  Chance's warm breath was anything but comfortable and her wiskers tickled.  The horse laid back her ears and snorted as she finished her inspection, announcing that she did not approve.
"I'm not to happy about it either." Morgan whispered to Chance.
"All right dragon slayer, how do you feel?" said the voice of the person who she had thought was dead.  Though, thinking about it, she was happy he wasn't.
"Wishing that I had stuck with the original plan and let the dragon kill me." she returned sourly.
A small chuckle came from behind her.
"It was a near thing, but I had a few tricks up my sleeve.  Besides, if I let you die, who could I take back to my father to prove what an idiot I am."
She smiled but found it hurt.  Suddenly she started laughing, the bandages and her wounds complaining of their ill treatment stopped her, making her laugh turn into a gasp of pain.  Within seconds, sleep claimed her.

* * * * *

She awoke again when water was put to her lips.  It felt so good on her dry throat.  She opened her eyes and looked into the other man's face.  He smiled shyly at her and she realized what she had not had time to earlier, he was handsome.  Tall with a dark complexion and deep black eyes that you could fall into.  Although he was looking rather bashed up at the moment, but then again, so did she.

"Who are you?" she asked.
"That's my line isn't it?  My name is Gabriel, how about yours warrior-lady?"
"Morgan." And that was all that her parched throat could get out.

As she became more aware of her body she took note of the carefully wrapped bandages and the splinted foot.  Her left arm was not responding to anything she tried and the memory of the tip of the dragon's claw stuck through her arm gave her no illusions as to what her chances for regaining full use of the arm were.  But at least she had her life, as much as the pain would let her enjoy it any time soon.
    
* * * * *

Over the next few days, the two stayed in the valley where they had fought the dragon.  Both of them were too hurt to move any great distance.  Neither of them knew how long they had been there.  It could have been days or weeks.  Slowly they healed and talked to each other, learning about each other.
Gabriel turned out to have some healing skills though he worried about her arm.  She could move it a little but she had gotten a chance to see it several times when Gabriel changed the bandages on it.  It was a hole, pure and simple.  Some how the claw had just chipped the bone but it had torn through muscles and flesh.  It didn't look so bad now.  There was a thin layer of skin over it so you could no longer look through it.
Gabriel was less bashed up than she and much more mobile.  The splint on her foot was taken off after a few days though she was strictly forbidden from walking on it.  And one experiment was enough to convince her that he knew what he was talking about.
One thing that they both agreed on that the war had gone on too long.  This could only be the beginning.  More terrible things like the Great One would be attracted to this area and cause more damage than the war it's self.  They had been lucky, extremely lucky, this time but the gods may not smile on them the next time around.
Morgan had told of the Fey and how the dragon had scared them.  Unlike her father, Gabriel seemed to understand the significance of that and listened to her fears and hopes.  They talked for long hours though Morgan was always careful never to say who her father was.  The two of them were close enough to the boarder that it was impossible to tell where loyalties might lay.  And though she found herself wanting to trust Gabriel she had too much natural paranoia in her. 
But paranoid or not, Gabriel was quickly becoming a friend.  He listened and respected the things that she said and could often relate.  He was full of laughter and jokes and loved to smile and make those around him smile, even at the worst of times.  Gabriel  had her laughing so hard it hurt one night next to the fire with his imitations of his elderly uncle who was hard of hearing.
They were both walking around one day when Gabriel turned to Morgan and said, "Come and fight the King's army.  If the two of us can kill a dragon to together we should be able to conquer Branth and end the fighting."  He laughed at his joke but the request was serious enough.
Morgan turned on her heal to stare at him, her stomach turning into a cold hard stone.  "Who are you to say who can and cannot join the King's army." she said in a strangled voice.
"There is so much fighting right now the army is practically begging people to join.  Come now, do you deny that between the two of us, we could end this war and bring peace to the land. And," he said with a sly smile, "As the King's nephew, I think I can get you a good position."
"If I join an army, it would have to be my own." she said quietly and turned away from him as he stared at her in silent shock.

* * * * *

The next day the two packed and went separate directions.  They had saluted each other silently, each hoping that they would see each other again but doubting that it would happen.  They had not talked much after discovering where each other's loyalties laid.  Morgan decided that it would be better if she kept her own family a secret.  She thought briefly upon becoming a spy and going with Gabriel, but her honor wouldn't allow her to lie to this man who had probably saved her life.
As Morgan headed back she relized that chasing the dragon had led her farther into the kingdom of Pyra than she had thought.  She had assumed that she was within a day or two of the border but in truth was about a week from it.  And to make matters worse, she was constantly having to dodge military patrols. 
As the days passed she tried to pay attention to the scenery and not think of Gabriel.  Every time he entered her thoughts she violently pushed him out.  One night, nearly a fortnight after she and Gabriel had parted, she was woken up by a sword point.
She was surrounded by several armed men who bore the crest of Pyra.  She cursed silently to herself for allowing this to happen.  She had thought that now that she was past the border and in Branth she was safe and had let her guard down.  It had been a stupid thing to do, one that any child who had grown up in this time of war would never have made.
She was led back to their camp where they found her ring that pronounced her of the royal house of Branth.  It had been in her pack with her clothes and many other things.  This seemed to be a great thing for them but Morgan couldn't bring herself to feel happy for them.  For some reason though, they did not take the silver ring.  It was almost as if they didn't notice it on her finger.  But she was not about to ask questions about her good luck.  Besides, the feel of the ring on her finger was now a soothing and familiar presence.
They did take her sword, Kali, but when they tried to take Chance, the horse put up a fight.  It took four people to hold Chance while the fifth put the rope and halter on her.  After two broken noses and one dislocated shoulder, the men simply chose to tie Chance to the a wagon they had with them.  Morgan glanced at where they put Kali.  She had gotten that sword from the elves and knew that the sword would put up as much of a fight as Chance if someone else tried to use her.  She grinned to herself.  It might be a show worth seeing.
Over the next few days, she was marched from camp to camp.  They seemed to be taking the long route so as to confuse any sense of direction that she might have had.  As it was, Morgan hadn't known quite where she was to begin with but she wasn't about to tell them that.  It had been rather embarrassing to begin with.  At every camp she was looked over and interrogated.  She was actually getting pretty good at hiding the pain and not passing out when they got frustrated with her.  Though the loss of blood began to bother her after one particularly long 'discussion'.
Then, at one of the biggest camps yet, Morgan was loaded into a true prison wagon and marched into the King's city of Pyra.  The wagon was put in the middle of a train of men.  The group looked more like a parade than a group of soldiers taking a royal prisoner.  If it had been someone else in the wagon, Morgan probably would have laughed at the entire spectacle.
As they entered the city gates, Morgan rose to her feet.  She hissed as some of her newer cuts and bruises protested her actions but her pride, which had always made her do stupid things like fight a Great One to prove she was right and that it really was dangerous, also would not let her sit and present a humble face to her enemy.  And so she stood as the wagon lurched through the streets of cheering people.  She kept her eyes straight ahead and ignored the angry words that were hurled at her along with the rocks and other things best left unmentioned.
Finally they entered the castle gates.  Even then there was too many people for her to collapse on to the ground so instead she concentrated on the rapidly growing purple mark on her cheek.  She was hauled out of the wagon and led down several halls and corridors.  A door was opened and she was thrown inside.
Morgan took a second to look around.  She had been thrown into a room with stone walls and no windows.  She sent a small prayer of thanks to the gods that there was no one else in here with her.  She finally gave in to her body and collapsed on to the stone floor.  She lay on her side panting for awhile before oblivion took her into it's welcome embrace.




Chapter VI

Morgan had lost track of all time.  She managed to eat a few times when food was brought to her but most of the time she slept and healed.  Slowly though, she began to notice that she was spending more and more time conscious.  She was not sure if this was a good or a bad thing.  As it became more apparent that she was not going to die here on this stone floor, Morgan spent the time looking for a way out.  She did not want to stay here after all, and since it was unlikely that the guards outside her door would simply let her out, it was up to her to think of a way out. 
The first day that she tried to actually stand up she found her lags shaking like a new born colts.  Barely able to take a few steps with out having to stop and catch her breath, she began to realize how badly off she was. 
She spent a lot of tie pacing back and forth, trying to remember the tales of heroes that she had been told as she was growing up and regaining lost strength.  This gave her both comfort and something a lot more helpful, advice.  Many of these stories were based on some sort of fact.  In many of them, the hero had to escape from some prison of other.  In these tales, the escape was often detailed and provided Morgan with ideas for her own escape though some of the more fanciful were discarded.

It was a few days later when Morgan heard some strange sounds coming from under the floor.  There were several large cracks around the corners where she could fit her whole arm down.  This was where the sounds were coming from.  They sounded some what familiar but she couldn't place it till a small scaled head came crawling up to her.  Dragons.  The small cat sized ones that were rumored to live in this kingdom.
Morgan's first reaction was to kill the small creature but then she took a closer look at it.  It was very young and barley the size of her palm.  That must have been what the sounds were.  A dragon must have gotten under the floor and laid it's eggs.  Eggs, for as she looked over she saw signs of other younglings.  The brave one who had crawled up to her was begging for food. 
She reached behind her a brought forward her own untouched water and stew.  The little creature almost drowned it's self in it's eager to get to the stew.  She watched it carefully as she went and fetched the two others that were also trying to crawl out of the crack in the floor.  As she let them eat, she went back and fetched yet another two who had been too weak to even attempt to crawl out of the crack.  She watched over these five dragons carefully, a part of her still not sure if they were going to attack her.
The first one, a dragon with small scales all the colors of the sea, gave a sigh and curled up around it's now bulging stomach and fell asleep.  The others soon followed suit, though the one with red scales fell onto his back with a little burp and slept that way instead of curling into a small colored ball like the others.
Morgan looked at her dinner.  She hadn't been planning on eating it but now that choice seemed to have been taken away from her.  She glanced at the five dragons surrounding her.  Curled up they looked like jewels, each one a different color.  Blue, gold, red and white.  She stared at the one of the ones who had been too weak to crawl to the crack in the floor.  It was a black dragon, but unlike the Great One, instead of a lack of color, it's scales seemed to have every color.  As the little dragon moved, highlights of all colors shown like tiny rainbows across his body.  She could not kill these little creatures, for they were not evil and she could already see the intelligence each had.  It gleamed at her from their sleepy eyes. 
Morgan finally gave a sigh of defeat.  She lay down and curled into a ball around them.  The dragons sought the heat of her body and moved into little groves in her body, each one curling into a ball small enough to fit into the palm of her hand.  They were all but hidden from an observer.  As Morgan herself began to fall asleep, she spared a few thoughts for her horse and sword.  She hoped that both were okay and that, where ever they were, they were better off than her.

She continued to feed the five dragons and try to figure out an escape.  She was trying to increase the size of the crack in the floor because somehow the adult dragon had found a way in.  Maybe that meant that there was a way out then for her. When the little red dragon chirped at her and tilted it's head she was forced to laugh.  It's questioning look was so human.
"I am trying to rescue the princess," she said after laughing again at his expression of puzzlement, then she turned to scowl at the floor, "But just between you and me, I think we're just going to have to hope someone else does it for me."
With that, the little red stood on his hind legs, puffed out his chest and gave a small cry.  The others took this chance to do the same and Morgan fell over laughing.
"Th..Thank you kindly, you brave souls for volunteering." she gasped out.  "I would love for you to rescue me."
As she was lying on her back, wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked up and gasped.  Hovering above her was the black dragon.  He gave a worried chirp and came down to land on her stomach.  He walked up her chest and rubbed his cheek against hers, small scales rasping quietly against her skin. 
"You little sneak, when did you learn to fly?" she said as she picked him up to stand.  "And I suppose the rest of you are also flying too, huh?"
The other four contrived to look innocent as she glared at them. Over the next few days she saw them fly, or fall as the case often was.  She watched as the gold dragon crashed into the white dragon and managed to catch them both before they hit the floor.  And she slowly picked names for them as their individual personalities began to emerge more and more.  The blue-green dragon was called Drake after the old name for dragons.  The white one earned the name Devil after some of the tricks that he played, though he always looked innocent.  The little red one she named Phoenix after the flame colors on his scales.  The black one she named Hope because he always manages to give her comfort and hope while she was in this cell.  And finally, the golden dragon was names Blaze, for when ever the light hit her she seemed to blaze up and glow.
The guards had not yet learned of Morgan's dragons.  They stood down the hall and she made sure that the dragons were always out of sight whenever the guard brought in food.  Some how she doubted that they would have allowed her to keep them if they had known of the little ones existence.
But it was getting harder to hide them.  They were now all larger than her hand when curled into a ball and Phoenix often refused to curl up, preferring to stretch out on his back not to mention that it was getting harder to feed them on the rations she was getting not to mention her own growling stomach.
Morgan finally decided that she had to leave or they all would die together in this cell.  She began to teach her dragons things and found that they could understand many of the things she told them.  Together they planned and came up with a way to get them out of here.  Morgan wasn't sure where they would go after they were free but she decided to take things one step at a time.  After all, the best laid plans of any war or battle rarely lasted past the first few movements.



Chapter VII

Morgan waited till night before sending Hope out.  She had noticed that the guards posted here tended to be slack and once or twice had even fallen asleep.  She waited for him to return impatiently.  She paced the floor until she finally forced herself to stop though her body hummed with the need to move about.  She stood staring at the wall, half of her waiting to hear the little dragon's scream.  She leaned into the wall and hit her head several times against it till she noticed the others staring at her intently.  She smiled weakly at them and went to sit in their midst to wait out the outcome of Hope's mission.
After what seemed like hours Hope came flying back through the bars of the door.  Morgan leapt up and grabbed the little dragon and kissed it, relief flooding through her.  It gave a small squeak of protest and wiggle about to free it's self from her.  Only then did she notice the dragon's burden and the hard time it was having staying aloft.  She smiled at the dragon as it dropped the keys to the door in to her waiting hands.
"You make a good thief my black Hope. Thank you." she said as she walked to the door.
Drake flew up and perched on her shoulder as Hope rested on the floor.  Morgan looked out and saw nothing.  She slowly tried the keys until she got the right one.  As she opened the door she glanced down the hall but the guards were still out of sight.  She watched as the other four dragons took to the air and went out the door.  She left the door open as she headed down the hall. 
There were two guards, one was asleep while the other was leaning up against the door.  It was Devil's turn.  She motioned the little trickster down the hall and the white dragon took off.  Morgan watched as the dragon darted forward and got right in the guards face and grabbed a piece of paper that he had set down.  The guard gave a startled sound and took off after Devil without even bothering to wake up his companion.  The guard was so intent on the chase that he never knew what hit him as Morgan decked him. 
She dragged him to her own cell and took his sword and dagger before going back for the other guard.  She just made sure that the other guard would have on heck of a headache when he woke up before putting him in with the other guard.  Morgan then locked the door behind her and walked to the door out of the prison.

As she ran out the door she looked up to see a very familiar face fighting with another prison guard.  The guard was knocked out and the warrior turned to wipe off his blade, which had been used to injure the guard laying on the other side of the room.
"Gabrielle!" she said, surprised at how happy she was to see him.
He looked up with a shocked expression on his face.  "It figures.  You would not let someone rescue you, you would have to meet them half way at least."
"You're here for me?" she said surprised to find herself happy at the admission.
"Come on, we'll talk later Morgan.  Now I think it's time we get out of here."
"Hey, no arguments here." Morgan said.  She relized that he hadn't notice the dragons yet and decided to see how long it took him.

They ran down the halls, Morgan a step behind Gabrielle with the dragons flying behind her.  They ran in silence, every now and then passing evidence of Gabrielle's entrance into the prisons.  Gabrielle finally opened a large door and they ran out into the night.
"That stubborn creature you ride and witch blade of yours are in the stable.  This way."  Gabrielle yelled back at her.
As she ran behind him she took the opportunity to watch him.  She hadn't realized until this moment how much she had missed this man.  Finally she caught herself studying the way his muscles move underneath his clothes and forced herself to pay attention to what was happening around them.
They were just reaching the stables when they heard the commotion.  Someone back there was raising an alarm.  She ran up to Chance and let the horse sniff.  Chance had been isolated and tied up away from the other horses.  She ignored the knot in the rope and just sliced through it before jumping on.  Gabrielle tossed her Kali and mounted his own horse.  As she grabbed the sword she allowed herself a second to wonder how he had gotten a hold of it but decided to ask the questions crowding her mind later.  The two of them went charging out the stable door and into the activity outside.
People were running about, trying to figure out what the uproar was about.  Several others were also on horseback so Morgan and Gabrielle did not stick out too badly.  The darkness and general confusion allowed them to make it through the first set of gates unchecked.  Morgan told her dragons to fly up higher out of sight.
"What did you say?" Gabrielle yelled back at her as they raced through the city.
"Tell ya later." she shouted back at him.

They finally made it to the city's gates and were through.  The few that had challenged them had been taken care of and they had flew past the city streets.  It hit Morgan that now, after all this time and all that had happened to her, she was free again.

Chapter VIII

They camped that night in the glen.  Morgan's dragons had found her shortly after they had finished setting up camp.  They had come diving down into the camp with chirps and screams all of sudden.
"What in the world...!?" Gabrielle had yelled as the little troop of dragons came to surround Morgan.
"Do you like my newest friends? They helped me get out of that prison." Morgan said with a smile.
Gabrielle gave her a weird look before coming over to meet them.  Both of them went and sat next to their fire.  A silence fell as the two humans considered things and thought about whether or not to break the silence.  Morgan was the one to speak first.
"Why did you come for me?" she asked.
Gabrielle looked at her, "I returned to my uncle and learned that he had taken a hostage that would give him an advantage over his enemy.  At first I was happy, this could have meant the end of this war.  I learned that the hostage was the King of Branth's oldest and even helped write the letters.  I didn't make the connection between you and the hostage until the other King's reply.  Your father said that you had gone to fight the dragon and that if we truly had captured you, then he would do anything to get you back."
Gabrielle looked at her uncertainly, "As soon as I figured out that it was you that was down in our prisons I petitioned the King for your release.  I told him all that had happened between us and that you deserved to be free, but he told me that in a war, good people got hurt.  I decided that night that I would get you out of prison.  I spent weeks trying to find you before I finally got to the men who had first captured you.  I nearly killed them for some of the things they boasted about doing to you."
"A few cuts and bruises is all that I got.  I am okay, Gabrielle." she said as he stopped, shocked by the anger in his voice.
"Well, you probably know or can guess the rest." he said after a second.  "I alternately fought and bullied my way down through the prison till I literally ran into you.  As for why I came, you and I are friends at least I believe.  I would do this for anyone who had earned that title."
She looked at him and smiled.  He was holding Devil on his lap and stroking her head.
"Thank you, I don't think I have said that yet.  I do have another question though, why did you call my sword a witch blade?"
He looked at her and smiled back.  "From what I heard, no one has been able to handle that sword or horse since you were thrown in prison.  I talked to a few of the people who tried.  The sword supposedly turned in one man's hand and your horse managed to break another man's leg and crack three ribs before his friends could rescue him.  Personally, I was amazed that either of them let me work with them."
They spent the rest of the night talking about all the things that were important to them.  They shared their histories, their loves and losses.  Dawn found them curled up together, each with a dragon on their laps, still talking.

Chapter IX

They decided to head towards Branth and try to get Morgan home.  They went slowly because Morgan had grown weaker in her time in prison.  Every night they sparred till Morgan began to regain the lost strength and muscle.  They also taught the dragons to do new things.  Several times they used the little dragons to scout ahead and see if an area was safe or not.
In a few weeks time they crossed the border between their two lands.  Morgan tried to persuade Gabrielle to stay behind.  She didn't want to the same thing to happen to him that happened to her.  He refused and she found that she was happy that he chose to go with her instead of turning back.  They had become good friends along this trip and Morgan didn't want to lose him yet.
Sooner then Morgan cared for they reached the outskirts of her city.  That night they didn't talk like they usually did.  They shared the silence and even the dragons were inclined to be quiet. 
"You are the heir to the throne of Branth right?" Gabrielle broke in to her thought suddenly with his question.
"Yes, technically.  Though it's more of a title than an actual position.  The man I marry is supposed to be the next King."
"Well, I am the heir to Pyra.  I was just thinking that between the two of us, we can end this war." he said though he refused to look at her.
"You mean that when we rule the kingdoms we will simply call a truce.  You're right!  I never thought of it that way." Morgan exclaimed.
"We could do that, but I was thinking of something faster.  Who knows how long it will be before either of us has the power to do this and there are so many things that could happen between now and then to stop it.  We should act now." he said.
"I don't understand, what could we do now?"
"Marry me."
"What?" she said, shocked.
"Lots of kingdoms have formed treaties that involve the ruling families marring their children to each other.  We could get married and practically force a truce between the two kingdoms." he said in a hurry.
Morgan sat back and thought about it.  She watched Gabrielle stare at the ground and thought about her own feelings toward this man.
"Is that the only reason we should get married, peace?  Any other reasons?" she asked quietly.
"How about that I love you." was his reply, whispered into the ground.
Morgan stood up and walked over to him and then kneeled in front of him.
"Good enough for me, besides, I don't think our marriage will really bring peace, just shouting matches during council sessions."

The two of them rode into the city the next day and then up to the castle.  Her brothers were the first ones out on the courtyard.  Robert practically dragged her off of chance and James hugged her so hard she felt like she was going to be squished.  Eventually she and Gabrielle were dragged into a council meeting were Morgan was to tell her story and she did. 
She told of her battle with the Black Dragon, her meeting with Gabrielle, her capture and rescue.  Everyone was amazed at the little dragons.  Devil and Hope sat on her shoulders while Drake and Blaze curled around Gabrielle's neck.  Phoenix managed to charm everyone by taking over the King's lap and going to sleep.
Then she told them the she and Gabrielle were engaged and presented their plan.  Morgan simply announced that they had decided that it was time for a truce.  Since Both her and Gabrielle would soon rule the kingdoms, it was a matter of taking this truce now or later.  After a few hours of argument and simple stubbornness, Gabrielle and Morgan won over the King and Council.

Over the next year, the new couple traveled back to Pyra and did the same presentation, only with reversed roles.  It had basically the same effect on people.  Both Morgan and Gabrielle were well known and respected and everyone could see the inevitability of this.  But that did not stop a few people from arguing long and loud about it.  At the end of the year the two were married.
At the ceremony the King of Branth remembered his bargain with the Fey.  Two warriors who would decide the fate of the kingdoms.  He smiled as his daughter wore a sword with her dress and the five dragons circled the pair to bear witness to the vows like everyone else.

Epiloge

Morgan looked up at the trees studying how they were put together.  A slight rustling behind her announced the elf's presence.  She knew that was for her benefit.  If the elf hadn't wanted her to hear him, she wouldn't have.

"Hello Silversong." she greeted the elf.

"Hello young warrior Queen." the elf replied.

"Thank you, my friend, for all of your help.  I wished to tell you, I found the partner to my ring.  Gabrielle wears it on his finger and has ever since I've known him.  It is a ring of healing."  she turned around looked at her mentor.  "Thank you for all your advice over the years.  I think you may already know this, for elves know everything, but you will soon have another generation of misguided royal children to try and keep from killing themselves."

She patted her stomach and the elf's eyes brows lifted and the corners of his mouth twitched.

And so it came to pass that they great war ended and the reign of King and Queen of Dragons came to pass.  There lives were added to those of other heroes and as time passed Morgan and Gabrielle became perfect, like all really good heroes.  The little dragons became the sign of their joined kingdom, for the little creatures soon had their own offspring that took over the castle and were adored by everyone.  They also got into everything.

And as all good stories should end, they live happily ever after, well sort of.  There were those shouting matches at council sessions.
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