Chapter 1 - Storm

The Girl quietly watched the sky aware of the impending summer storm. She walked outside from the open hall extending outside, as it's white marble gleam now shadowy and secret. She placed her hand on the marble sighing, as it was cool to her touch on such a warm night. She watched dimly as the upstairs curtains in her room flowered out to welcome the dark with a white-handed wave. Looking out at the cumulonimbus that grew to a monstrosity she smirked at the small sparks of light that glowed within it. Turning after feeling her outlook was not as sacred or desolate, she saw her brother and her soon-to-be-sister outside near the tree line. Laughing and pointing out the celestial sky and the creamy orange orchids that grew near there. She shook her head as they called out the bodies above.



“The stars will soon be covered and where will their beacons be then?” She whispered this to the wind so that it may carry her message to the flowers who were awaiting the small dry spell to cease.

“You need only the sun and the rain.” She sighed. “How lucky you are.” The curtain now feeling threatened by the power rising in the east flapped violently and the orchids bent to their master. The Girl's skirt fluttered as she watched the lovers flee to the house through the main entrance. They laughed and floated to the door opening the heavy oak door kissing each other once before they were pressured to be on their best of behavior.

A deep voice in the east boomed a resounding greeting and a small shower began, the flowers basked in it. The Girl's face downcast at her bare feet jerked up to the heavens up as a bolt lit up the sky to reveal her eyes of violet color. She smiled and breathed in deeply the flavor only summer rain could give her, the warm dirt dampening and ozone. She smiled as she remembered the tale of how certain dragons had certain scents. Some were coppery and sharp. Some were clean and invigorating, et cetera. She couldn't remember, childhood wasn't important now the future was coming and like the harsh storm she felt swelling up, it was not a happy scene; for the flowers or her. She turned to he house sure they were celebrating the coming wedding now that the secret had been revealed. Her skirt flitted all directions the wind toying with her. She glared as her hair became disheveled and she ran nearly slipping on the wet smooth marble. A thunderous voice called for her to come back but she ignored it and ran into the security of her home to hide from a promise that she had long forgotten. A low grumbling came from the heavens and a pair of yellow eyes flashed in the sky, broodingly.



The Girl walked onto the threshold saturating the intricate carpet as she left the large uncarpeted patio. She shut the frosted glass sliding door behind her. Her parent's laughter floated through the hall from the dining room. She started for the staircase knowing her brother would want a fond congratulations and approval of his bride even from his little insignificant sister. She went to the stair rail touching the cherry finish with delicacy and then tracing the engravings on it. A large clap of thunder shook the chandelier that flickered threateningly. She listened to its twinkling crystals as it swayed some more. Its song over she started the ascent. She held onto the railing, afraid of slipping on the wooden paneled steps. She finally got to the top though her wrists did ache from their death grip on the wooden bar. She finally arrived and ran into her room. She tried the light, which didn't come on she recalled that the bulb had given out. She had been up, as they held a small party below, reading her books. She flew to the closet and pulled down a velvet top, and picked a black lacy skirt. She hastily put them on and as she brushed her wet and tangled brown hair she looked at the pile of books she had reread last night. She looked at the detailed winged beasts and damsels on the front with their purpose written on their face: Victory. She smiled as she recalled and then reminisced about when her grandmother told her such stories.

”Granny!”

“Yes dear?”

“Can we read this one today?”

“Of course. What is its title?”

“The Maddened of Twolalti.”

“No. It's called The Maiden of Twilight.”

“Oh.”

“Now once upon a time…”

“What's this?” The girl interrupts and points to the dragon on the cover.

“It's a dragon.”

“Wassa dragon?”

“It's a powerful creature that can fly and….”

“It looks like a lizard.”

“Yes, I suppose it does.”

“ It's teeth are awfully sharp.” She gasps as she remembers the bid bad wolf.

“Is he a bad dragon?”

“Well, I don't know about his one in particular but some are good while others are indeed bad.”

“Oh. I hope this dragon is good.”

“I do too. Now shall I continue?” The girl nods and listens to a tale she only partly comprehended and she interrupted several times but it was finished nonetheless. After the story, she was in awe at the dragon's powers.

“He can grant wishes?”

“ Yes.”

“Wow! I wish I had a dragon.”

“Well he only resides in this book.” She said her leathery hands patting its covers. The girl nodded but didn't stop wishing.



She ran downstairs while tying a black bow in her hair and nearly slipped on the wet stairs.



“Celia!”

“Mother?” Celia turned as she caught herself on the railing the bow residing on a lower step.

“Where have you been darling?”

“I'm sorry, mother.” She said withholding her answer.

“Come down here.”

“All right.” She slowly walked down the stairs scooping up her bow and went down to her mother's side. Her mother looked at the wet stairs and the stained carpet and sighed at her own daughter sad shape. Her dark hair was pulled up into a bun and her light brown eyes were vivid and alive. Her lips were stained with a kiss from a red, red rose as they matched the long-sleeved red dress she wore. She quickly snatched the bow and secured it decidedly in the mass of frizz.

“Come your sister-to-be wants to be better acquainted with you.” The girl avoided her mothers condescending stare and obediently followed. Her brother was drinking of the rare white wine that was for only the most superb of occasions. He wore a white informal button up shirt and tight black pants. His spiked black hair and dark sable eyes twinkled into his fiancée's hazel eyes with merriment. She had her short blonde hair cascading freely onto her shoulder and wine to her lips. Celia went to the chair as the butler pulled it back for her to her small salad. She picked up the chilled fork and began to eat not speaking.

“Celia.” Her mother warned though it was a warm tone for the guest to guess its meaning. Her brother smiled looking at her through the glass of clear cool water she brought to her lips to hide her displeasure.

“Celia, dear sister.” Celia put down the glass unperturbed and looked into her brothers eyes.

“I would like you to meet my future wife, Tamra.” Celia nodded at her and smiled.

“Nice to meet you Tamra, my name is Celia. I welcome you to the family.” Her mother pursed her lips with pleasure at her child's good breeding.

“Thank you Celia. I'm sure I will love you as much as my own family.” She laughed.

“But what am I saying you are my family.” They all enjoyed a small laugh, with Celia playing her part as the quiet polite child. Her father was having his wine filled and watched the happy couple with pleasure, it reminded him of his own happy youth. He consciously thought of his graying blonde hair. He turned to his youngest child, Celia, he gray eyes wondered at the quiet usually unsociable child. She had been that way ever since her grandmother had died.



Celia stood at her grandmother's casket and sighed shakily. Her violet eyes watered once again and she laid the rose on the casket and then they lowered it into the ground. She grabbed dirt from the pile beside it and tossed some of it onto it her family members did it as well. She went to her mothers black skirt and held onto it. Her mother sniffed and patted the small head. Her mother then stood as everyone paid they're respects to the grievous. Celia feeling uncomfortable left their side to go behind a tall tombstone and hid behind it. A young boy playing skipped near her and his mother caught his hand and noticed the child behind the tombstone.

“Oh, my poor dear.” Celia looked up at her as the boy tore his hand away from his mother to stare rudely at her.

“Mother is that her?” He recognized her from earlier that day, at the church after his mother had gossiped to him about her.

“Hmmm? Oh my but it is.” The woman clasped her hand over her mouth. The boy smiled and grabbed Celia's hand. She drew back from the boy and then her mother called for her. She found her and spoke of a lot of things she didn't understand with the other lady. `Betrothed. Fiancé.' What did any of that mean? But as she grew older she understood that conservation and met the boy several other times. He wasn't a mean boy but he wasn't altogether understanding. If he wanted to play tag, they had to play tag, no compromising. He was rough as boys were bound to be though he was quick to apologize but still she dreaded their play dates. She was happy when they ended and went back to her books and consequently locked herself up in her room.



Celia cut into the tender duck finishing and placing the fork and knife crossed upon the plate. The elders got up to entertain in the living room and Celia gave them goodnight wishes and kisses to retire to bed early. The lightening rolled across the sky and the thunder called after. The windows were teary and the bushes outside brushed against it trying its best to console. Celia once again went up the stairs happy they were no longer wet slowly went up only getting halfway up. A crash of lightening shook the house and the chandelier jarred and its crystals spread out making a solid note of distress as it swung about. The chandelier shined no more and a groan of protest came from the living room as the entire house was covered it pitch black darkness. Celia quickly put her hands to search for the railing, she failed to contact with it and instead touched the floor and crawled up the stairs like an infant. She clambered up the stairs one by one feeling the cold stairs bite into her hands, she finally came into contact with plush carpeting and sighed her relief. She crawled unto the carpet and only until then did she have the courage to stand. She heard footsteps around her echoing in the space that until now had seemed so much smaller. She went to where she hoped the wall was and touched something that felt solid until she pushed into it and it swung open. It wasn't her room.

“The upstairs bathroom.” She reminded herself. She turned in relation to where her room was as a flash of thunder shot and lighted under the small crack under her door. She ran to it as the thunder reverberated and enfolded in the clouds. She came as she noticed the still open window she had forgotten to close as a pair of lighting flashed. She waited for the boom from it but only heard a small growling that lasted longer and made the hair on her nape stand on end. She ran to the window pulled the drenched curtain inside and latched the window shut. She was wet again from the rain that had assaulted her as she saved the curtain and herself. The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, the rain descended, the wind howled and the house was dark as she had nothing to do but suffer under it all alone in her room.

The storm had not forgotten her promise to him and was begrudgingly allowing her to stay protected inside of the house instead of flushing her out by ripping off the roof. He would never forget to claim what rightfully belonged to him.

Celia was playing hide-and-go-seek with the boy and was hiding outside in a bush behind the garden reading The Maiden of Twilight. She smiled as she remembered sitting in her grandma's lap as she read it to her.

“Ready or not here I come!” Celia shook her head as she read. She heard him traipse along around the garden since before he had found her high in the tree and had to climb after her. She was quietly turning the pages as he noisily ran about and even went into the house though she told him she enjoyed the fresh air better on sunny days. He finally gave up and verbalized so. She didn't hear him so he amused himself by throwing the garden rocks around until accidentally he hit her in the bushes. She cried out in misery as he had hit her cheek and on the climax, too! She came out and attacked him with her book. He fled saying over and over `I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' She chased him all over the garden until their parents stopped any further violence. Celia angrily left them and ran up the stairs to her room.

“I hate that boy and will never marry him!” She looked at the book, her only ally. She touched the dragon on the cover.

“You could grant my wish couldn't you? I would promise to stay with you forever.”



The storm dragon did agree to her terms though and she was his whether she believed now or not. The terms were simple she belonged to him since the boy's marriage to her could not occur. It was not the dragon's own doing but he still collected his just dues.

He released a more coaxing groaning in the sky as Celia lied down to sleep. But a crescendo of rain and more wrathful thunderous boom ripped through the heavens as she nearly slept. He then lessened it once again vowing when she woke up the storm would still rage. His golden brother kept a keen eye on the promise dragon.

“He's far too headstrong and doesn't understand a child's fantasy.” He knew the presence in the book was the grandmothers soul to keep her granddaughter happy but it brought only more confusion for the youth. He knew the child asked the wish in fury and rage but decidedly it was better that way. He smiled thinking of the characteristics they seemed to both have.

“Stubbornness.” He then watched his brother's storm brew and thicken over the house as he strangled it refusing to let go.

“Play your game a little further dear brother, and we will see if the mortal understands her true wish and that you understand your own as well.” The storm lessened to a shower but still the sky was overcast as morning came. The soil saturated began to flood to lower ground or collect in large pools around the house and possibilities of a flood began forming. Celia was roused by a knock on the door from the butler. Collecting herself from the night before she put on a flowery pink dress. She pushed back her hair with a headband and looked at the stairs apprehensively before skipping down to brunch. They were all there tiredly trying to heighten all their spirits at the dank prospects for that day: to stay cooped up in the house all-day; together. Celia ignored the drab conversation about the storm and instead ate hurriedly. Her mother excused her and she went to the threshold to the patio taking off her shoes and walking slowly on the marble to the end where she looked at the effects of the storm. The orchids had been uprooted by the wind and were strewn into the water floating leisurely. As far as she could see only gray clouds spread thickly over the clouds and the reflection of water upon the ground like there was no other way of life to be known except dark heavens and saturated earth. The large puddles fascinated her as the small shower continued sending small waves through it. They rhythmically reverberated with the drops she barely noticed anything else at that moment. She looked to the sliding door for a shadow to be watching her finding none, off she went down the steps where the pair had been before looking at the twinkling stars. She smiled at the cool moisture her feet felt as she connected with the ground. She looked at the poor orchids again.

“Maybe too much water for a flower is bad.” She looked up at the sky.

“Especially now that there is no longer a sun.” She picked one up to keep her company promising too take it to her blue china vase in her room to live out it days. She twirled it in her hand dipping it every once in a while in the water hoping that would sustain it. She looked into the forest as water fell and dripped off of the leaves with a pleasant muted sound. Giving a nice effect along with the clear note of water plinking on water. She went into the forest mesmerized with the quiet and shadowed trees. She went deeper and deeper as the storm that once had been abating was slowly getting harsher and heavier.

Celia's mother wondered if her daughter was in her room reading again until a frantic knock sent the butler hurriedly to the front door. A grievous mother stood in their midst as Celia's mother quickly went to the mother of her daughter's fiancé.

“My boy, Eiris, is dead.”

“Dead? Oh, my dear… but from what?” She asked sympathetically

“A horse riding incident. It bucked my baby to the ground and he was trampled to death by the horse.” The woman sobbed.

The mother stayed to relay the sad news to the family who actually found themselves happy about something to discuss, though it gave them great guilt to have to even say that it did even to themselves. The distraught woman prepared to stay the night after the sudden turn in the weather. Celia's mother after her best to console the Eiris's mother went to find Celia intent on telling her about the unfortunate accident that happened to her fiancé but Celia was unfortunately lost as the storm grudgingly darkened her way and pelted her with drops of contempt.

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