Lady Elysia's Sword (standard:fairy tales, 5419 words)
Author: Arielle	Added: Nov 12 2008	Views/Reads: 3757/2158	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Lady Elysia becomes bitter after losing a dear friend to the dragon Lorcàn. She teems up with the dragons next victim, Princess Valencia, and together they kill the dragon. Then Elysia meets the mysterious Princess Mercédes. Somehow she seem

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sickening, lethargic fear. It was like a drug, causing my limbs and 
mind to move along sluggishly. As if in slow motion I saw Aza smile 
sweetly; not the false, self-serving, flattering smiles that one 
usually gave to royalty, but an honestly pleasant smile. 

“Good morning, Princess Valencia.” 

Her greeting echoed much too loud in the deathly silent room. I cringed,
and swiveled my head slightly in time to see a flicker of amusement in 
the princess's eyes. 

“I hope it will be.” She returned silkily, and then she gracefully took
her leave out the door of Lady Geneva's chamber. 

As soon as the swish of Princess Valencia's skirts faded away, all the
ladies breathed a sigh of relief. For a few moments I had to 
consciously think about moving oxygen into my lungs and letting it out 
before I could fully function again. 

Aza leaned over and took my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Everything will
be alright for the people now, Lysa. I can feel it.” 

I shuddered. Aza's “feelings” scared me worse then Princess Valencia
did. 

*	*	*	*	* 

The sun was at its peak in the bright blue sky when the yell traveled
down from the battlements. 

“Two soldiers dead! Dragon sighted down in the moors!” 

A chill ran up and down my back. No one in the kingdom had ever seen a
dragon before - their very existence had been doubted. And now one was 
seen by the moors, only a mile or two from Abernathy Castle? 
	Impossible, my mind screamed. But as the hours progressed in tense 
silence, and the captain who had seen the beast remained in an 
emergency meeting with King Dylan, it was becoming more and more 
apparent that the once auspicious day was doomed. 

At last word leaked out that the king believed the captain spoke the
truth, and precautions began to be made should the dragon start a 
siege. Knights began polishing their armor, maidens practiced their 
screams, and scholars researched anything remotely related to dragons. 

I sat with Aza on the battlement wall. Not where the dragon had been
sighted and the soldiers killed, but near the gate. Aza was puzzling 
over the situation aloud. 

“It doesn't make sense Lysa. It just doesn't make sense. I could feel
that something was going to happen last night, but it was supposed to 
be good, not evil. I don't understand.” Aza had the look of a 
bewildered child. 

And that's when the dragon itself showed up at our gate. 

Chapter 3 

A foul smell drifted up to where Aza and I were sitting. I coughed,
feeling dizzy and lightheaded. Nausea claimed my stomach and I swayed 
on the wall on which I was sitting. I heard Aza cry out and turned to 
look for her, but the smoke stung my eyes and blinded me. 

Then Aza's hand grabbed mine and jerked me off the battlement. I hit the
stone floor with enough impact to knock the wind out of me for several 
moments. While on the ground I became aware of terrified screams; not 
just women and children, but the soldiers and knights too. 

“It's the dragon.” Aza managed from where she lay beside me, shudders
racking her body. 

I moaned in despair. If Aza was right - and I was sure she was - all the
dragon had to do was blow out a searing breath and our gate would be 
incinerated. 

Slowly I sat up, wincing at a sharp pain near my ribs. Aza climbed to
her feet, and together we stumbled until we reached the courtyard. 

Somewhere during our struggle to move I had headed in the direction of
King Dylan's chambers. Aza and I had to tell him about the dragon and 
its fetid odor - but as Aza and I made it to Great Hall, we discovered 
not only did the king know, but everyone was acquainted with it. The 
castle was in an uproar. 

We crawled onto a soft down couch and rested, unaware that at that very
moment King Dylan was sending his most intrepid emissaries to discover 
the dragons business. 

The dragon hissed out his name. Lorcàn. And Lorcàn was starving. 

If the king fed him a sheep a day, the dragon would retreat back to the
moors and leave the kingdom in peace. 

So the king fed him. 

Or more accurately, the people fed him. 

Sheep by the hundreds were led to the slaughter; the air was alive with
the smell of freshly spilled blood. 

But we could sacrifice the sheep for only so long. Finally the day came
when not one woolly white animal was left in the realm. 

A heavy cloud of fear hung over every person as King Dylan once again
sent out knights to speak with Lorcàn. 

Lorcàn felt he was being most generous in allowing us to live. The
catch? One maiden a day, tied to a stake in the middle of the moors. 

Words can not convey the horror that I felt when the proclamation
declaring lots to be cast was hung on every door post and shouted in 
every town. 

Crushed into Great Hall with all the other nobles and peasants, we
waited breathlessly in morbid anticipation as King Dylan ascended to 
his throne. He slowly drew out a name from the golden bowl by his side, 
and looked at it. His face showed nothing, no emotion whatsoever. 

His mouth opened. 

“Azadeh” 

Chapter 4 

A shriek came out of nowhere, rending the still air with a high-pitched
wail. It took me all of ten seconds to realize the sound was coming 
from me. 

About the same time I stopped keening, I knew what I had to do. I had to
save Aza. I was her only friend, her confidant. She had saved me many 
times from doing something foolish that would have gotten us both into 
trouble. We were inseparable. I had to save her, to rectify the 
situation somehow! But I had only until that evening. As twilight 
approached and I had yet done nothing, desolation and gloom settled in. 


Then it was time. 

Aza walked calmly to her doom as I stood on the battlements looking down
on her. My eyes were red from weeping, and I felt all hope of saving 
her depart. 

Aza turned to look back at me and gave a wave, and then her small figure
vanished into the mist of the moors. For a little ways more I could see 
the bright armor of the soldiers leading her, the tips of their spears 
flashing in the light of the setting sun. 

Then I turned and ran down the steps and off the wall, raced to my room,
and began mourning my dear friend. 

But I knew I was not the only one to grieve, not the only one to spend
sleepless nights and dreary days. Others came after Aza, many others. 
The names swirled together like a watercolor painting, none more 
beloved then another. I laughed bitterly as I remembered Aza's 
pronouncement of everything being alright for the people. 

And then came that day. I was sitting in the window seat of my chamber,
staring at nothing, just a blank space in my mind. 

She walked in without knocking. Just came over and put her arms around
me, holding me. Comforting me. 

“I'm sorry for your loss, Lysa.” whispered Princess Valencia. “I'm so
sorry.” 

I was held still by shock, any words that I might have spoken stuck in
my throat. 

“I really did like her, you know. She was always so kind. So different,
but in a good way.” 

I made a small sound of agreement. 

“Do you remember the time I came upon the two of you arguing? Yes, I see
you do. Well, I'll give you the answer to Aza's question of who the 
people would turn to.” 

She leaned down, until her mouth was by my ear. Her voice was for me
alone. 

“A hero.” 

Chapter 5 

It began the next morning. 

Lorcàn was at our gate, and he wasn't happy. Apparently his maiden had
been set free, leaving him without a meal. 

The king was furious. Not so much at the saving of a life, as by the
fact that he didn't know what to do. Especially when the absconding of 
the girls continued in the week that followed. 

I was once again gathered in Great Hall with the people and King Dylan.
He looked at the name, and to the shock of the people, turned white. 

“Val-val-en-cia. My daughter. Valencia.” 

Then he crumpled to the ground, moaning. 

He earned our respect that day. Though he had every right to be biased
and to want to save his daughter, he didn't. It cost him immensely. 
Everyone could see what the arduous task of not trying to save the 
princess did to his health. 

Princess Valencia approached me that night. 

“Lysa, I...There's something you should know.” 

But I already could tell, just from watching her. 

“I'm the one who's been conning the dragon, the one who let those girls
go.” 

I nodded, not surprised. For I could still see in my mind's eye her face
when she told me how sorry she was about Aza. That was the face of a 
person who wouldn't let something like that happen ever again. 

“I couldn't go on seeing my father treat those poor women and girls like
pawns in his giant game of chess. They are people!” 

“But Lysa - now I'm the one chosen. Who'll save me? And the ones after
me?” She was scared, I could tell. 

“Please, Lysa, I'm begging you. Find a hero to save the people! You're
their only hope now.” 

*	*	*	*	* 

Once again I was watching a friend go to her death. But this time I was
prepared. The armor was weighty and cumbersome, the sword bigger then I 
thought from just looking. Yet I was light at heart. I wouldn't let 
Valencia die, even if it cost me my own life. I abstractly wondered if 
this was how all the heroes of history felt as they strode into war, 
fearlessly slaying for the good of their people. 

I was ready. 

And Lorcàn came. 

The dragon was a fright to behold, all black and scaly with sparking
emerald eyes. The other knights that escorted the princess fled in 
fear, but not I. Valencia looked at me in confusion, not recognizing 
me, and then she knew. She ran over and stood beside me. 

“I've got your back!” she said, feigning confidence. 

We took a position to fight. 

End of Part 1 

Part 2 

Chapter 1 

The rancid odor of Lorcàn reached Princess Valencia and I as we stood
together, and in the face of certain death my courage waned. 

Then I thought of Aza – Aza smiling, laughing. 

Kind Aza, comforting me when I was frightened and cheering me up when I
was sad. My distress faded as memories of Aza flowed over me, and my 
mood grew buoyant. 

I now perceived Lorcàn with a peculiar haze over my eyes, like a veil
had been dropped over my vision. I'd heard knights and soldiers 
discussing what I felt; they called it bloodlust. Never until this 
moment had I considered myself violent. But as I saw the great bulk of 
the dragon stalking towards me, a perverse rage filled my veins, 
coursing through me. 

This evil creature must die. For what he did to Aza, to those many other
girls, and for the destruction he wrecks on innocent lives, Lorcàn must 
die. 

The hulking form of Lorcàn seemed to go on ad infinitum. In the eyes of
the dragon I saw malicious amusement and something else, something I 
couldn't identify. 

Misery? 

Surely not! 

My hatred of Lorcàn grew with each striding step he took. In my
peripheral  vision I caught Valencia scanning me, her brows furrowed in 
a thoughtful frown. 

“Guard your heart and soul, Elysia.” She cautioned. “Malice corrupts and
then destroys what it can get a hold on. Do not fall into the same trap 
as the dragon.” 

I nodded my head to tell her I had heard, and then I refocused my
attention on Lorcàn just in time to glimpse him lunging. 

Searing pain in my shoulder alerted me to the fact I was bitten but I
forced myself to ignore the rivulets of red running down my arm. I 
clumsily drew back my sword and struck out. My arm jerked and my ears 
were filled with a horrible scraping sound as metal grated over scales. 


At the contact Lorcàn swiveled his head around and his bright green eyes
with enormous black slit pupils collided with my gaze. The look we 
exchanged was anything but congenial. 

Feeling vindicated by the viciousness I beheld, I had an urge to shout
“See, he is evil! He is a brutal beast that must be destroyed.” 

And then the dragon blinked and I saw another emotion in his eyes.
Suffering. 

No. It can't be possible that he who killed and devoured Aza and
hundreds of other girls has been suffering as much as me. 

In that moment, time froze and a decision was presented to me. There was
in my power a choice to grant mercy or remain pitiless. Both 
alternatives had consequences. 

I chose, and lowered my blade. 

Chapter 2 

One last memory tugged at me: Aza waving a little goodbye, her last
goodbye, as she was marched to her death. 

Conceding the force of fury which rose within me I wrapped both hands
firmly around the hilt of my sword and swung, hacking and slashing 
until the head of Lorcàn lay severed on the ground in a pool of dark 
blood. 

I stared for several silent moments at what I had done, feeling immense
satisfaction. 

Turning to Valencia I smiled grimly. “How would you like a bona fide
dragon head mounted on the wall in your room?” 

She just looked at me. 

“What is wrong?” I asked. 

It was several minutes before she said anything. Then; “Your hands are
stained red with blood.” 

I looked at my hands and discovered she was right. I wondered if seeing
blood made her feel faint, like the other well-bred ladies at court. 
“I'm sure it will wash off.” I assured her. I wish she'd stop staring 
at me! I thought to myself in annoyance. 

“No.” She said. “It will never wash off; though you can try to cover
your hands.” 

Avoiding my gaze she gestured back the way we had come. “We must return
to the castle.” She stumbled and I scurried to her aid, noticing a spot 
of blood spreading on the sleeve of her gown near her right arm. 

“Valencia, are you wounded?” I worried. 

“When you drew back your sword for the killing blow the tip of the blade
cut my arm. I'll be fine.” 

I bit my lip. “Aren't you even relieved that the dragon is dead?” 

She finally met my eyes. “It was sordid, what you did, Elysia. And I
fear it is only a prelude of what is to come.” 

Valencia turned her back and trudged away. 

Chapter 3 

King Dylan apportioned a reward to Valencia and I for killing the
dragon. I accepted my share, but Valencia returned hers. In addition to 
the gold given to me I was granted the sword that I used to slay 
Lorcàn, and I hung it above my bed. 

It took two weeks, but at last Valencia snapped out of the dreary
disposition that had taken hold of her after the death of the dragon. 
We continued to chat whenever possible, and it got to the point that I 
was called into Valencia's private chamber almost every afternoon. 
Quite a few of those times Val and I were joined by several high-born 
girls, and together we formed a clique; seldom was one of us seen 
without the others. 

The days were growing warmer, as were most of the rooms in the castle,
save a small group in the West Wing. These few rooms were shaded by 
giant trees, their huge branches blocking rays of sun from entering the 
windows. Of these chambers mine was one, and at last on what felt like 
the hottest day of the year I gave in to Valencia's plea to meet in the 
cooler sanctuary of my room, rather than her broiling bedchamber. 

She knocked once on my door and then glided in, closely followed by Lady
Imogene, Duchess Arena, and... who was this stranger? She was tall, 
which clearly marked her as a foreigner: all the rest of us girls at 
court were petite, our height, (or lack thereof), a trait passed down 
from our ancestors. 

This young woman had long fiery red hair, clear, pale skin, and exotic
emerald eyes that tracked my every move. 

I shuddered. Her eyes – they looked like the eyes of him. Of Lorcàn. 

Chapter 4 

“Lady Elysia, let me introduce Princess Mercédes. She has just arrived
from Slainey Castle.” 

I gave a deep curtsy, buying time to cover my fluster. “I'm honored to
be acquainted with you.” I swallowed as she gave me an inscrutable 
look, taking in my curly, honey-blonde tresses, small stature, and big 
blue-gray eyes. 

“Likewise, I am sure.” She returned loftily. The voice of Mercédes was
hypnotic, her every step smooth and controlled as she entered the room. 


Conversation was awkward and stilted. After ten minutes I decided that
perhaps speaking of Princess Mercédes' home would relax the tension. 

“Princess Mercédes,” I ventured cautiously, not at all sure how to
address her. I had long since stopped calling Valencia “Princess”, and 
on rare occasions I dubbed her Val. I doubted the same familiarity was 
applicable to this new princess. “Princess Mercédes, where exactly is 
Slainey Castle?” 

She locked her green eyes on my face and replied, “In the moors. Deep in
the moors.” 

I visibly started, blushing as my agitation attracted the attention of
Arena and Imogene. 

Valencia was not looking at me, but rather above me, above my bed. 

“Lysa.” She gasped. She had gone white. “How can you have that
abomination on your wall?” 

“Abomination?” I asked in surprise, momentarily distracted from
Mercédes. “Whatever do you mean?” I glanced around to where she was 
pointing with a trembling finger. Then I saw it. The sword that I had 
killed Lorcàn with hung proudly over my bed. I was so used to seeing it 
that I'd forgotten it was even there. 

“Really, Valencia, I think you are overreacting.” I chided. “It's just a
sword, it means nothing.” 

She gave be a burning glare, her eyes shooting sparks. “If it means
nothing then why is it hanging on your wall?” She said fiercely. 

Her words speared my heart. 

“I'm returning to my chamber now. Come along ladies.” Valencia clapped
her hands in an authoritative gesture, and Imogene and Arena leaped to 
their feet. “Are you coming, Mercédes?” Valencia enquired in a softer 
tone. 

“Yes.” Mercédes rose, and in a migration of movement all four woman
exited the room. Princess Mercédes was the last out, and she shut the 
door behind her. 

Chapter 5 

Princess Mercédes frightened me. All she had to do was glance at me with
those big green eyes and I'd go cold all over. It wasn't long before 
the entire castle knew of the dissention between Mercédes and me. She 
didn't actively dislike me and go out of her way to hurt me – to the 
contrary, she was always polite, if a bit distant. She just stared, 
watching me, waiting. In many ways she reminded me of a panther 
stalking its prey: she padded quietly along the halls and pathways, but 
something in her was always coiled, waiting for just the right moment 
to strike. Though what she was waiting for I didn't have a clue. 

I distrusted her and she clearly returned the sentiment. 

It would have been easier if Valencia hadn't begun shunning me. No
longer did I see her and her little coterie every day which meant no 
longer did Mercédes and I meet within the bounds of “friendship.” Quite 
frankly, it meant that I didn't have the chance to keep an eye on 
Princess Mercédes. 

Oh, how I missed Aza. I now realized that being friends with Aza had
kept me out of any kind of court intrigue and trouble. Without Aza 
there, nothing stopped me from becoming like the clever, conniving 
court women Aza and I vowed never to resemble. 

And then after a particularly poignant memory of Aza, I took a deep look
at who I had become. 

Hate had transformed me. Hate of Lorcàn, hate of Princess Mercédes, and
a growing abhorrence of Valencia smoldered deep in the pit of my heart, 
the flames of anger and bitterness burning away all honor that I once 
had. Fire like the fire that had blazed in Lorcàn now hissed and 
crackled in my soul, searing me and whatever I touched. 

My thoughts whirling, I went outside and sat with my back against the
rough trunk of a weeping willow, the sounds of the lake beside me a 
pleasant lullaby. The sky was a cloudless baby blue, the sun warm but 
not overly hot. Falling asleep was inevitable. 

When I awoke it was almost dusk, and I was more disoriented then I had
ever felt in my life. It was dark outside, and I wondered how long I 
had been asleep. I squeezed me eyes shut and then opened them, willing 
my sluggish mind to move faster then the pace of a slug. 

Then I saw them. 

Glowing emerald in the darkness the eyes moved toward me. Next I saw
hair like molten lava, flowing around a creamy pale face. Her dress was 
black and green shining silk, somehow woven into scales that chimed and 
clinked when she moved. Mercédes sat on the ground beside me, not 
saying anything. 

“Who are you?” I asked in wonderment. 

Chapter 6 

She sighed, and to my surprise I saw that at this moment her eyes were
not cold and forbidding, but a warm, mossy green. 

“I am myself.” She gave a short laugh. “Not very original, I am sure,
but true none the less.” She pierced me with a look. “Do you know who 
you are?” 

“I am bitterness, anger, hate. It consumes me, owns me.” My words
shocked me by how accurate they were. 

“Maybe.” I could tell nothing by her tone. “May I tell you a tale?” 

I shrugged, not really caring beyond the fact that we were speaking
without hurling unkind words at each other. “Proceed.” 

“When I was a young girl, my elder brother fell in love with a stunning
woman. She was anything but rustic, which mainly described the rest of 
the girls at Slainey Castle. They were to be married, and our entire 
family was ecstatic that at last my brother had found someone to love. 
However, though she had the adoration and devotion of my brother, she 
betrayed him by marrying another man at the last minute. My brother was 
livid when he found out.” 

Princess Mercédes stopped, taking a deep breath to calm her emotions
before she continued. 

“The night he discovered where the woman and her new husband were hiding
he went there at once, and in a rage murdered them both. That night was 
the last time we ever saw my brother.” 

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but Mercédes was not
finished. 

“I say that night was the last night we saw my brother. I should better
say, that night was the last time we saw my brother in human form.” 

She peeked at me through a curtain of red hair and I saw another pair of
eyes, as green as hers. Except those eyes had been set deep into scaly 
black skin and had glittered with murderous rage. 

“He – your brother – he-!” 

“Yes.” 

I closed my mouth and tried to breath, struggling with the revulsion
that came from sitting next to the sister of Aza's killer. 

I had to ask, “How?” 

“His hate. Elysia, his hate consumed him, as yours consumes you now. It
turned him into something inhuman. That's what hate does to you Elysia, 
it consumes, it alienates, it mutates, and then it destroys. Once you 
let hate take a hold, the walls of your soul are untenable.” 

Chapter 7 

“So what should I do?” I whispered the words, afraid anything louder
would shatter me. 

“Let go.” 

“Of what?” 

“Of your hate, your bitterness, your rage. Forgive, Elysia. You are not
like my brother, destined to wallow in the putrid stench of your own 
wrath until your fires are quenched by the greater ire of someone 
else.” 

“I thought I was doing what was right.” My voice was choked with tears. 

Mercédes made a comforting noise. “You started correct Elysia; your
plans were noble, honorable and good. You wanted to rid the kingdom of 
a great evil to save lives. But then it morphed into wanting revenge. 
Did you know, Lysa, that there is someone who will one day avenge all 
wrongs done? He says: “Revenge is mine, leave it up to me.” He says 
that for a reason; He knows that when we try to avenge we lose sight of 
mercy and justice. We focus only on our own need for revenge.” 

Tears slid down my cheeks and I gasped with sobs. Mercédes let me cry.
After a minute my crying slowed down and I wiped my eyes with the back 
of my sleeve. I asked in a somewhat stronger voice, “Mercédes, you said 
there is someone who says to leave revenge to Him. Who is He? Why is it 
that I've never heard of Him before?” 

She bowed her head in silence. “Mercédes? What is the matter?” 

“It is my fault.” She stated brokenly. 

“Your fault that I haven't heard? Why?” 

“Because...I was sent to tell you and I did not.” Her words came in a
rush. 

“He sent me, but I was so angry with you for killing my brother that for
a little while I overlooked my mission. Then I saw you out here and 
knew what I must do – it was what He called me here to do in the first 
place. To tell you, to tell everyone here, about Him.” 

Chapter 8 

Mercédes and I talked long into the night and into the morning. When the
sun came up the two of us watched as color after color burst into 
radiance, and I felt in my heart that Mercédes had spoken the truth 
about there being someone out there – someone who wanted me to know 
about Himself. I wasn't yet ready to serve Him as Mercédes did, though. 
Too much had happened, and all so fast. 

I still had questions, and I still was hurt over Aza's death. Aza had
been right about something, however. Better times came for the people. 
As much as I changed after the morning we spent together, Mercédes 
changed as well. She grew relaxed, comfortable, and talked with 
everyone she could about He who called her. Hundreds of people 
believed, joining her in service of Him. Any rebellion that might have 
been brewing was quelled by Mercédes and those who believe as she did. 
The kingdom and its economy become more versatile on a whole. 

I re-melted the sword that I used to slay the dragon, adding gold to the
blade and the finest emeralds in the treasury to the hilt, before 
presenting the new blade to Mercédes. After all, if she was going to 
travel over the kingdom enlightening people to the existence of Him who 
called her, she was bound to make some enemies. I wanted her to have 
some sort of protection if and when the time came for her to defend 
herself. 

But Valencia – she haunted the castle corridors. She was not one who
believed; rather she outright rejected Mercédes and her words. It 
speared my heart to see what had become of Valencia. Whether she knew 
it or not, she had been a dear friend to me when I needed it, and I 
cherished the times we had spent together. I harbored a secret hope 
that one day we would return to our lost camaraderie, but I had no real 
expectation of that happening any time soon. 

Mercédes and I grew as close as sisters. She taught me that I was free:
free to love, free to hope, to smile, to laugh. 

THE END 


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