Seven years ago

Erina, princess of Meyrin, didn’t even have an elvish lineage to boast about. The news that the hero, that legendary dragon-slayer, had gotten engaged to Princess Runaesthera of Artemia drove her mad. She didn't know him at all, nor did she specifically want him. But she had spent her entire life improving herself in every possible aspect. It was only fair that good things happened to her. And not that every few years, some foolish monks from Atyr would come and tell her she couldn't reign because she was a woman. Or that she would constantly be forced to give hope to some young noble no one had heard of.

As she looked in the mirror that morning, she thought about how beautiful she looked, how much she cared for her hair, her slender and strong waist, her contoured hips and legs toned by her training. Why didn't she have an amazing fiancé? She was afraid that her father, King Bestolf, was arranging a marriage for her; he was an old cunning and manipulative man. And meanwhile, little Bestie was away with his cousins, reading about his flowers. That boy was to be envied, unlike her, he remembered every word he read without spending sleepless nights. Without a doubt, he could reign better than her, who lived in fear of forgetting the basic formulas of courtesy or the lineages of the kingdom's houses.

If she wanted to be the queen her parents expected, the person she herself aspired to be, she had to be more than others. That was why she had left all those months ago, she had to find the valley, the place where the spear of the first queen of Artemia rested. If she could get it, not even the dragon king could defeat her, and then, surely, life would finally smile upon her.

Two weeks later, she was already exploring the many mountainous paths of Unermia, riding her black steed Starry Night. She found many hidden valleys along her way, some were filled with flowers, mainly peonies, but none seemed to be the right one.

The book she had found hidden under her father's throne said that the heroic queen had returned the gifts of the goddess to the fairies at the end of her life, and had sunk her spear in a pond in the middle of a valley in that area. She only had one more valley left to explore, which, in her opinion, wasn't even that hidden; it was simply… inconvenient, because after a long and winding path, beyond the valley, there was nothing.

At first, she thought it couldn't be the place. The valley was a peaceful place full of rare creatures, but almost none dangerous. It looked more like that old story of the boy who made a wish. And it turned out that in a clearing in the valley, she found a pond of water so pure and full of life that it could be no other. Remembering the story, she expressed her wish to be the greatest warrior in history and submerged in the strangely deep pool in the middle of that hidden forest.

There it was! At the bottom, among the rocks, still immaculate and with the unicorn horn on the tip as the legend said. Simply holding it made her feel invincible, in her hands, the spear changed shape until it was perfect for her. If she had it, she could indeed be the next legend, surpassing the hero and even the heroic queen of Artemia's stories.

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And now that she had it, everything was better… a bit. With it, she had easily taken down two impressive dragons. The spear even consumed the monsters' fire, eliminating the danger of them exploding. Now they only turned to ashes. She was making a name for herself, but she wasn't satisfied, she felt empty. The strange blonde woman she had met along the way had told her it would happen. She had to set new goals. For today, surviving the court.

Now she was getting ready for another silly banquet her father was hosting in her honor, meaning to find her a match. Maybe if she loosened her braid… or if she tightened her corset a bit more… Should she wear the silver breastplate over the dress? She loved wearing armor with her fine dresses, but her mother would tell her there's a time for everything… In the end, she put it on, silver always looked good on her, she even decided to wear a tiara. If the old cunning man wanted to show her off, she might as well look pretty. Besides, she knew that the more dazzling she looked, the less they would approach her. The noble men she knew were all cowards.

When Erina came down, she found no surprises, her father, all muscle and mustache, was drinking with a dignitary from Pellegrin, the old man was starting to let himself go, he was gaining weight. Her mother moved like a dragonfly among groups of people, greeting everyone and ensuring they had a pleasant evening. The faithful Frigg seemed like a swarm of bees, directing the staff without making the slightest noise.

She wasn't surprised to see the same faces as always, two or three of those boys she actually liked, but in her mind, there was only room for the extraordinary, for what she couldn't have just by wishing for it, and those boys didn't fit that, they were rich, strong, kind; but ordinary, totally within her reach. And far from her interest.

Apparently, she would do it again.

Later that night, she excused herself from the banquet saying she was very tired, headed back to her rooms, but discreetly, she took off her right slipper without stopping and left it behind on the third step up the tower.

At midnight, he knocked on her door. Although he entered anyway without waiting for an answer, he always did so. They never spoke since the first time, they didn't tell each other how much they loved each other, nor how much they missed each other. They didn't mention dreaming of each other, or crying out of helplessness on lonely nights. They loved in silence to become strangers again at dawn. Kindred spirits who barely dared to use a subtle and innocent signal to say, "I need you."

The sun touched Erina's face; he was no longer there, her slippers were on the floor next to each other, so she knew it hadn't been a dream. She waited to hear the rooster crow at any moment to remind her she had much to do.

What she heard was a dragon's roar.

She barely managed to cover her nakedness with a nightgown and simple breeches before running downstairs, she had to put on her armor. When she got there, her squire was waiting for her, he placed the greaves, the breastplate, the gauntlets, the gorget; his touch was rough, direct, very different from what she still felt on her body. He worked efficiently and silently. Until he was done.

"Erina, they say it's the dragon king."

"This is not the time, please Harlan..."

"Maybe there won't be another time, Erina. I love you, please, you have to come back. It doesn't matter if you don't..."

The princess took her silver spear and ran out of the armory without looking back. She didn't want to hear the rest. Her father was surely already facing the beast.

The moment she stepped away from the entrance seemed eternal, she still felt Harlan's words in her ear when a golden dragon fell from the sky against the armory building, reducing it to rubble before bursting into flames, as if to seal the fact without leaving room for hope.