Edda woke up in a field of wildflowers.  All around her, yellow and green and orange life bloomed and waved in the cool breeze.  She took a moment to smell the clean, fresh air, and sat up slowly.  As she moved her body, her heart began to beat faster, pounding like a drum.  Her visions began to swim as she stared down at her hands, long fingers and carefully manicured nails.  Bronze skin, almost metallic, shone in the bright sunlight, and she could see the muscles beneath flex and stretch. 

This isn’t right, she thought to herself. 

She slowly rose to her feet, seeing now she was dressed in a plain tunic and tights, and brushed the dirt off.  There was a pack on the ground next to her, simple, leather, and unfamiliar.  Inside, a canteen of water, a small coin purse, and a scroll of parchment.  She counted the coins first, a paltry sum, and then unfurled the scroll.  Her eyes took a moment to adjust, but even in this form, she could still read draconic script.

Edda, child of Nothing, Ward of Brakken,

You are hereby banished from the realms of Dragons

You have proven yourself unworthy of trust and unable to reform.

Still, it is out of understanding that your behavior may not be entirely your own fault, that we have decided to let you live out your days as you now are.  You will have no power but the life inside your body, no breath but the air in your lungs, and never will you fly on your own wings again, but you will live, one way or another.

May your days bring you peace, somehow.  Ours shall surely have them now.

The seal at the bottom was familiar too.  The five-headed dragon that symbolized the Council of Tiamat, it told her the rest of what she needed to know.  Edda was exiled, and she knew precisely what for.

She rolled the stiff parchment up, stuffed it in the bottom of the bag, and slung the whole thing over her shoulder.  She surveyed the horizon all around, looking over the fields of flowers until she saw something like civilization.  She found what she was looking for:  a road, well-paved and fenced, leading from east to west.  She had no map, and wasn't much of a navigator besides.  Still, Edda recognized that a road led to people, and she also recognized that, whatever curse had been put on her by the Council, she could not make it long on her own.  Her belly was already starting to feel empty.  

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She set out on the road, the sun rising before her in the east, and looked for any clues or signs as to what language she’d have to rely on here.  Soon enough, she came to a crossroads, where a thin dirt trail intersected with the dusty flagstones she was following.  On the corner here, a signpost, well-maintained and clearly lettered, had arrows pointing east and west.  The script was human, clearly, and she recognized it after a few moments as that of the Kingdom of Radhir.  A chill slowly crept up her spine.

Radhir, land of liberty and enterprise.  A kingdom reputedly without fear of the dragons who tyrannized much of the continent.  One of the great examples of rebellion against the Council of Tiamat.  All this because the king, Astos the Bold, commanded an elite group of Dragonslayers, commonly known as The Spikes.  

Edda heard stories for years about the Spikes, ruthless and aggressive hunters of dragons.  They ranged throughout the vast mountains and forests of Radhir, and over the last century they’d expelled or exterminated every dragon from the land.  For dragons, they are the bogeymen that keep the whelps awake at night.  

Edda shook herself from her thoughts, and reexamined the signs.  To the east, the sign pointed to Fort Macarae, the very stronghold of the Spikes.  She knew she’d not be going there, at least.  To the west, Radhir City, the capitol and center of the kingdom.  She shrugged, tightened the straps on the pack, and set herself to the west.  Best to get lost in the mix of people that could be found in a city as large as the capitol, and then to find an answer to her condition somehow.  

And then, once that’s sorted, the Council will answer for what they did to her, and to Brakken.  

She began walking west, with the sun still behind her, and clenched her jaw.  She knew where she was, where she was going, and what she would do next.  With all that, there wasn’t anything left to distract her.  As she walked, hot tears began to stream from her eyes.  She wiped them away and huffed.  Tears are for mortals, and that she was not, and even the Council could not keep her from that forever.  Edda was a dragon, and would be once again.