In the mirror, Mel saw the looming presence of her mother standing behind her. She held a brush in one hand and a strand of Mel’s hair in the other. Her mother dragged the brush through Mel’s hair with a roughness that made the hairs on Mel’s neck stand up.

“I heard they’re putting on a new production of the ritual today,” her mother said.

Mel winced as she pulled the brush through a section of her hair.

“High Priest Alcon’s daughter was always one for the theatrical,” her mother continued. “She is the one who got his permission to spruce up the reenactment. I think it’s more like a play now. The story being told through the eyes of a young girl, I heard. Isn’t that strange?”

Mel put up her hand to shield herself from her mother.

“It hurts,” Mel said.

Her mom continued to brush her hair the same way and just swatted away Mel’s hand.

“I don’t know if I think I’m going to like this new version of our history,” her mom continued. “I mean, you can’t just change and modify what happened, just because it makes a better story. We have to stick to the truth. Especially for important events, like today. The dragons gave us their fire and we have to remember how that came to be. Exactly like it was.”

Mel pulled her head away now from her mother.

“Please, stop,” she said.

Her mother actually listened to her this time. She stopped and stared at Mel. Through the mirror, their eyes met, and Mel held her gaze.

A moment passed, and her mother didn’t yield. She just kept on staring at Melissa. Eventually Mel averted her eyes, looking down at the wooden surface of the vanity.

“If you want to look nice, you have to suffer the pain,” her mother said.

Then she lifted the brush back up and took another strand of Mel’s hair. She started brushing it again, just as rough as before.

Mel winced, but didn’t protest anymore.

She didn’t want to look nice, or more she didn’t care if she looked nice. But she knew her mother had won this argument, like she always did. She was a hard woman to fight with since she never backed down. Mel couldn't remember a time when her mother had apologized for anything. She always seemed to think she was right, even when she wasn't.

“Just because she’s High Priest Alcon’s daughter doesn’t mean she can go around changing the past,” her mother said. “Is there no respect for tradition and history left in this world? Are we all just going to ignore what she's doing to our ancestor’s memory?”

“But we're already celebrating today in memory of what happened and we’ve all heard the story like a hundred times by now,” Mel said. “It could be fun to just this once get a different version of it. Maybe dad won’t fall asleep halfway through the reenactment this year.”

Her mother gave her a look through the mirror, her eyes narrow and her mouth drawn to a thin line.

Mel looked down at the vanity again, swallowing a lump in her throat. Maybe today wasn’t the day to argue with mom.

“Well, I won’t stand for it,” her mother continued, like Mel had never said anything at all. “I’m going to let High Priest Alcon know what I think of this play and make sure next year they’ll put on the actual story of what happened instead. I just need to see this production first to make sure I know which points to hit him with. Then, tonight, I will give him a piece of my mind.”

Mel made a mental note of finding Minnie and Marcus at the ritual and make plans with them tonight. She didn’t want to be stuck with her mom throughout the evening, hearing her complain about the play. She could watch the fire with her friends and drink some spiced wine while she plotted her escape.

#

The ritual was held at midday, and Mel walked with her brother and her parents out to the pit, a short distance from their house. This construction was built in a natural valley. It had a bowl shape with small hills all the way around. In the center, a stage in wood with a little roof stood and yellow curtains hung closed before the set.

Mel and her family sat in the middle of the wooden benches, built in a semicircle around the stage and leaning against the hillside downwards. Everyone got a chance to see the play, for this was an important event for the village and Mel felt like the truly lucky ones had to be the ones sitting at the top, furthest in the back.

Though these seats were thought to be the worst, Mel always felt like they would be the best. From there, you could watch over the people of the village and sit far away from the reenactment so that you didn’t need to be drawn into the horrible acting of the players. You could watch the sky, the clouds sailing by and just listen with half an ear, making up your own play in your mind. Mel desperately wanted to sneak back there and disappear into her own world.

Her mother tugged at her dress and Mel sat down beside her, with her seated brother to her other side. Mel’s family had middle seats and her mother hoped that next year they would get seated further down, here and in the chapel. After her sixteenth reveal, everything would change.

The wind licked Mel’s back, and she drew her scarf tighter against her body. Spring was officially here, but that didn't mean the weather had remembered to change just yet. Her mother threw a blanket over Mel’s shoulders and she shared it with Andrew, sitting next to her. He looked small and young next to Mel, but his face was gloomy, like usual.

Mel’s hair was drawn tight into a thick braid that hung down her back. When she turned her head to search the crowd for her friends, small strands of hair tugged at her scalp. She fought the impulse to reach up and pull the braid loose, something her mother would not be pleased with if she did.

In the distance, Mel spotted Minnie, sitting down with her family, a couple of rows before her. Then Marcus with his family, sitting only one row in front of Mel. He looked up at her before he sat down, giving her a smile and a half wave.

Mel smiled back, but didn’t wave. Her hands were tied up in little balls in her lap, anticipating the hellish play that soon would begin.

A moment later, the yellow curtain parted and High Priest Alcon’s daughter appeared before them on stage. She was dressed in a thick red dress that trailed all the way down to the floor. The hem was frayed, and the waist was a tad too large for her, making the dress hang unflattering along her slender body.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Samantha’s hair was blonde, and she wore it up in a bun, with a red ribbon tied at the back. She cleared her throat and the audience's murmurs quieted. All eyes turned to regard her on the stage.

“Today we remember,” Samantha said. “We remember the horrible beasts, our ancestor’s sacrifice and the dragon's gift.”

She held up her hands to the sky, looking up at the sun.

“We celebrate this day in remembrance of the struggles of our forefathers. The blood they spilled and the fire they fought side by side with.”

The yellow curtains drew back, and the stage revealed itself behind Samantha. She lowered her hands and took several steps back. There, a young girl from Andrew’s class stood, washing clothes in a bucket of water. She wasn't really doing a great job. It was barely believable. The girl looked like she’d never washed clothes in all her life.

Mel lifted her eyes up to the sky and watched the clouds dance above. She pictured her own players, acting in better costumes that fitted their bodies and with voices that sounded authentic.

“It was on this day that a girl of only thirteen came to change the world,” Samantha said. “She was helping her mother with the chores when a warrior appeared from the shadows.”

“Good day, fair lady,” the warrior said.

Mel could hear that the voice of the warrior belonged to her classmate, Mark, and she rolled her eyes up at the sky. She tried to drown them out, remembering the story for herself. But she felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder and Mel drew back, looking down at the stage again.

Mark wore ridiculous black armor made from thick pieces of uncombed wool. He looked like a kid, playing a soldier in the school courtyard. Not like a boy of sixteen, reenacting the most important event in history.

“Good day, sir,” the young lady said, looking up from pretending to wash her clothes.

“We need everyone who can hold a sword to join the fight for the valley,” the warrior said. “You, fair lady, are being summoned to join the battle at Cairn. We must go at once.”

“Okay,” the lady said and walked over to the warrior.

Mark and the young girl started walking in place on stage and behind them the stage hands ran around, changing out the set. The bucket of water became a wooden cutout of a dragon, and the little house became three shadowy figures in black.

Mel rolled her eyes again. This was even worse than the usual reenactment. Every year, High Priest Alcon used to read the story on stage from the black book and two or more people in poorly fitting costumes would silently move to his words. It wasn’t great or special. But it had a certain steadiness to it that this reenactment just simply lacked.

Today, High Priest Alcon was seated in the front row in his blood red attire and Mel thought she could see him squirming in his seat.

“Here we are, fair lady,” the warrior said.

“Wow, so this is what a battlefield looks like,” the young lady said. “Hi, friendly dragon.”

A voice, sounding a lot like Samantha’s, piped out from behind the wooden cutout of the dragon. “Hi, little lady. Are you here to help us destroy the beasts?”

“Yes,” the young lady said in an upbeat voice.

“Then we together shall draw them back into the darkness they came from,” the dragon said.

Three stage-hands appeared and pulled out an orange curtain, hurling it at the shadowy figures. The wooden cut out of the beasts fell down on the stage, seeming to die.

“Yeeey,” the young lady said. “The beasts are gone.”

“For now, I have drawn them back into the void,” the dragon said. “But they will be back. I cannot do more for you, because I have important business elsewhere to attend to.”

“No, don’t leave us. We need you,” the warrior said, holding up his hand to the dragon.

“I must leave,” the dragon said. “But before I do, I will give you something to protect yourself with against the beasts. Something that can hold them back.”

The stage-hands rolled in a large wooden cutout of a dragon stone on stage and the orange curtain, symbolizing the dragon’s fire, flew out of its mouth. The orange cloth wrapped itself around the dragon stone, and then the dragon left the stage.

“Are we safe now?” the young girl asked.

“No,” the warrior said. “We will never be safe from the beasts, but we have protected the valley and drawn them back beyond the mountain. I will create a watch by the mountain pass and we will call this city Aldrion. There, my children and their children will fight the beasts with the help of the fire until the dragon’s return and destroy this evil for good.”

“Thank you, warrior,” the young girl said. “I feel much safer now.”

On stage, Samantha walked out once more in her red dress. The warrior and the young girl moved to the side of the stage and wore polite smiles on their lips.

“This is the story of what happened during spring equinox,” Samantha said. “This is how we remember not to forsake the gift the dragons gave us. Remember our forefathers' sacrifice at the battle of Cairn and our most important mission; to hold the mountain pass until the dragons return.”

Samantha, Mark and Andrew’s classmate bowed their heads to the audience.

For a moment, it was as quiet as the grave. Then Mel’s father cleared his throat and her mother whispered, “Well, that was awful.”

The crowd broke out in applause. They were hesitant at first, then they grew stronger. Mel felt the pressure of thanking the players who at least had tried to entertain her and clapped along.

On stage, Samantha’s face fell and her shoulders rose to her ears. She didn’t look happy about how the crowd had responded to her play.

Mel winced, feeling like she felt sorry for Samantha. This was her first time putting on the reenactment, and it couldn’t have gone worse. Her destiny was to honor the memory of the dragons, and Mel guessed she would just have to keep trying to fulfill it.

Her parents rose from their seats, and her mother slipped off Mel and Andrew the blanket. A chill ran through Mel’s spine, and she shivered. She expected her mother to complain at any moment now. But she didn’t.

She just collected their things and gestured for Mel to leave. Mel stopped her and looked at Minnie with her family. They looked equally shocked by the appalling performance.

“Is it okay if I make plans with Minnie and Marcus for tonight?” Mel asked.

“Sure,” her mother said. “You can hang out with them at the fire. But not before then.”

“Can I come?” Andrew asked from behind Mel.

“No,” Mel said. “You can’t come.”

“If you want to hang out with your friends, you can bring your brother,” her mother said.

Mel rolled her eyes and looked back at Andrew. He drew his hand into a fist and pumped it, looking pleased with himself.

“Do you have to come?” Mel said.

“Yes,” Andrew said. “I want to have fun, too.”

Mel sighed.

She couldn’t meet up with her friends if she didn’t bring Andrew. But it would be hard to talk to Minnie and Marcus about her plans to escape with him there. She needed to figure out a way to get Andrew to leave her alone once they’d left their parents at the fire. Maybe she could convince him to disobey her parents and go off to find his own friends for a while. Not likely, though, since Andrew seemed to enjoy Minnie’s company a bit too much.

Mel grabbed Marcus on the road up from the pit and he hung back when his family continued in the direction of their house. Minnie saw them and joined, leaving her parents to walk back alone as well.

When they were alone, the three of them, by the edge of the pit, Mel proposed her suggestion to meet at the fire tonight.

“What about your other plans?” Minnie asked.

“I want to talk to you both about that tonight,” Mel said. “It’s not like I can do it by myself.”

“What plans?” Marcus asked.

“I will tell you tonight. Okay?” Mel said.

“Yeah, okay,” Minnie said. “But my answer won’t be different, you know. I still think it is a bad idea, and I’m not going to help.”

“What is a bad idea?” Marcus asked.

Mel sighed. “Yeah, I know. But I’m kind of running out of time and I have a plan now. It’s different from when I asked you yesterday to help me. This time I got it all sorted out and I only need a small favor.“

From the stage in the pit, they heard Samantha sobbing and Mark trying to comfort her. Clatter from the stage hands bringing down the props bounced along the hills sides and once in a while you could hear humming from the young girl that had played the fair lady.

“But let’s talk about it tonight,” Mel said. “I don’t want to get caught.”