Chapter 1

Lady Lucene had come to a crossroads, both literally and figuratively. To her right, the road stretched on and out for miles on end. She could follow that road til she, or her horse collapsed from exhaustion, and continue until she found herself someplace far enough away to make a new life. To the left lay her duty; a duty many told her was suicide. They were not exaggerating. An entire battalion of the king’s men had perished attempting to save his daughter from the mighty dragoness Tyranaxxia, eradicated by her corruptive breath. The princess had been missing for nearly a week, and doubtlessly, the king thought his daughter to be dead. His decision to send the head of Princess Izelle’s royal guard after the dragon alone was an execution, a punishment for failure, in all but proclamation. That was beside the point. Only one question truly mattered: was Princess Izelle worth dying for? The answer came easy; Izelle was her dearest friend, and Lady Lucene would gladly die trying to save—or avenge the missing princess. Jaw set in grim determination and steadfast resolve, Lucene directed her along the path to her left, and toward the blighted lands of Tyranaxxia, Scourge of the Wastes. 

Her journey was treacherous. Lady Lucene had known it would from the moment she set off. But foresight alone cannot overcome adversity. The road north, which stretched long into the heart of deep and savage woods, had long since fallen to banditry and wild beasts. Even mere hours into her Journey, Lady Lucene felt eyes on her, watching, waiting. Lucene was used to being watched, a lady knight was always subject to prying eyes, judging eyes, venomous eyes. The dangers of some shrouded wood held no candle to the jagged edges of backroom schemes and courtroom etiquette. Besides, sometimes prying eyes were quite welcome. She had, after all, caught Princess Izelle’s eye. When Lucene was but a squire training under her uncle, she would often look up from the training yard to spy her princess watching with rapt attention from above. Izelle had seemed quite enthralled by the knights and their squires. And even back then, it was clear the princess was especially fascinated by the lone girl among their ranks. Of course, back then Lucene was a nervous and scared girl, struggling to prove herself to her peers, but that only made it all the more exciting, and terrifying to know that not only a member of the royal family, but also the prettiest girl in the whole kingdom had taken an interest in her. 

It went without saying that the eyes which watched her now were far less welcome. But in such a grim—and dull—time, Lucene did not think it wrong to dwell on positive memories. Unfortunately, thinking of her princess did little to quell Lucene’s guilt.

Despite the unknown and unfriendly eyes which no doubt watched her from the trees, the first day of Lucene’s journey came to pass without trouble; she had even managed a successful hunt, and dined on fresh roasted venison with stale bread. As she ate her meal by the dim lamplight, inside a small abandoned guard tower, Lucene remembered the first time the princess had spoken to her. It was at a banquet, one which, coincidentally, also had served venison. Her uncle, a member of the royal duke’s guard, had been given permission to seat his squire at the duke’s table. Lucene had been deep in thought, admiring the gorgeous court ladies and their gorgeous dresses  when the princess had confidently marched right past the duke to speak to Lucene directly. She’d been taken by such surprise that she nearly leapt from her seat when the princess suddenly appeared before her, and only managed to squeak out the most mechanical, rehearsed of thanks in reply. It had been the first of many times the princess would seek Lucene out directly for conversation—if one could consider Izelle relentlessly, though not cruelly, teasing the shy squire to be a form of conversation.

Her second day of travel was not as smooth as the first. A small company of bandits had blocked the road, forcing Lucene to travel into a narrow and exposed ravine. Their attack was swift, and efficient, but clearly lacking. One of Lady Lucene’s greatest advantages was how often men underestimated her; she showed them exactly why those who crossed swords with her no longer scoffed at the idea of a lady knight. She was, after all, no stranger to combat. Like many young knights, the onset of war was the crucible which had transformed Lucene from a shy, uncertain squire, to the fierce and determined knight. She had left the royal capitol with her uncle when the Duke’s lands came under threat, and returned a decorated, renowned fighter. 

As she treated her wounds, Lady Lucene traced a finger along one of the many scars which marred her body, reminders of battles past. Sometimes she wondered what her life would be like had she made other choices, had she not let her interest in swordplay and wrestling through the mud grow just as strong as her interest in pretty dresses and music. But it was this life, these choices, that war that had turned Lady Lucene into a knight worthy of the princess’ personal guard. The day Izelle chose her for the role was proudest of her entire life. Though, in hindsight, perhaps her failure to keep Princess Izelle out of Tyranaxxia’s clutches suggested Lucene had made the wrong choices after all. 

But could she honestly tell herself any other knight would have succeeded where she had failed? Likely they would not have. The real question became then, how many of her peers would do as she did now? How many would willingly march out to face Tyranaxxia alone, no matter how doomed the quest seemed, just in the off chance Princess Izelle really could be rescued? The number was quite small, Lucene imagined. In the end, while Lucene had skill to rival any other knight, Princess Izelle had chosen Lucene because she had seen something others didn’t: profound loneliness and vulnerability. And, through companionship and care, the princess had turned that weakness into a strength, forging a fierce, unwavering bond of mutual trust, loyalty and friendship. Fraught as she was by the guilt of her failure, Lucene knew she was the only one who wouldn’t have given up, her peers would have taken that right path and run. She salvaged what she could from the bodies of her slain opponents, and continued on. 

By early evening, Lucene had reached the end of the king’s land, into unclaimed wilderness. The road, already poorly maintained, was little more than a dirt trail at times, but surprisingly, the prying, threatening eyes did not follow her. Perhaps she was closer to Tyranaxxia;s territory than she’d thought. As she traveled, the wilderness grew denser, the flora more vibrant and untamed. Lucene kept her eyes peeled for telltale signs of scorched, ruined lands, but darkness was approaching. The second night she dined on leftover venison and trail rations lifted from her fallen attackers. 

Her fitful sleep came to a sudden end at the sound of a deafening roar; Lady Lucene had heard that sound before. For a brief, sleep-delicious moment, she though she might have been back at the palace on that fateful night, when that same roar had ripped her from the realm of dreams and into a harsh, cruel reality. By then, the princess was already gone. Nobody knew how she’d been taken, but that hardly mattered when royalty was missing. 

Steeling her nerves, Lady Lucene leapt to her feet, whistled for her horse, and set off at a gallop in the direction of the sound. The canopy above her was far to thick to glimpse Tyranaxxia, but Lady Lucene could hear the beat of her great wings quite clearly. The dragoness was close. She whipped past trees, ducked under hanging vines, leapt over root and stone, but even in an open field, no horse could keep pace with a dragon in flight. When she finally came to a clearing, Lucene caught sight of a lone mountain off in the distance, and flying toward it, a great winged beast, covered in deep green scales. 

Fear stabbed at Lady Lucene’s heart; true fear, not the paltry nerves of some green soldier before their first battle. This was the fear one could only feel when confronted with something both truly incomprehensible, and unmistakable greater than oneself. The magnificent terror that was Tyrannaxia could only be matched by her transcendental majesty. It was enough to remind Lucene how foolish it was for humans to consider themselves the masters of their world, instead of a group of feeble, foolish creatures simply permitted to continue existing by their betters. That fear was enough to stop the hearts of even the most resolute; it was nothing compared to Lucene’s devotion. She rode on. 

As she approached the mountain, Lady Lucene found the forest surrounding her thinning out, and giving way to lush grassland. What trees remained seemed to naturally guide her toward the mountain looming ever larger. At the foot of a sheer cliff, Lady Lucene glimpsed a doorway carved into the stone. It was far too small for any dragon to fit through, but she had no doubt: this was the mountain Tyranaxxia had flown toward. Surrounding the doorway was a lush garden, brimming with all manner of fruits and vegetables; it was a perplexing sight to see in such a dangerous place. And, most notable of all, a towering figure clad in dark, heavy plate armor stood guard outside the door. Lady Lucene approached cautiously, baffled to see such clear signs of human life so close to where Tyranaxxia doubtlessly nested. 

The knight made no indication that he cared in the slightest about Lucene and her approach. He simply stood in place, stock still, his greatsword planted in the earth before him. As she approached, Lucene began to notice the finer details of his armor. His helmet, ornate and heavy, had been styled after a dragon’s head. The fingers on his gauntlets stretched into steel claws. An ornate, shining scale pattern decorated the armor from head to toe. Lady Lucene tensed. She had heard tales of knights who had devoted their entire lives to hunting and slaying dragons. At the same time, other legends often spoke of ruthless, cruel knights who rode into battle on the backs of dragons, slaughtering in their service. Whether this knight fell into either category, or simply styled himself after dragons out of sheer coincidence, Lady Lucene could not say. What she did know, was that she needed to approach the matter with great care, and a ready sword. 

Resolute in her quest, Lady Lucene approached. “Greetings,” she called. “I have come to seek the head of the Dragoness Tyranaxxia, Scourge of the Wastes. I have reason to believe her lair is somewhere around this mountain. Do you know where she nests? If our goals align, perhaps we might work together to separate her head from her body.” The knight before her said nothing, did not move, did not seem to even breathe. Lucene felt her hand twitch as she searched for any indication at all of hostility, or friendliness. She ran her tongue her teeth, and considered her options. Frankly, the man before her intimidated the hell out of her. Lady Lucene was tall, strong, and skilled. Her physique rivaled many men, a reality she often felt both pride, and shame over. This man, though, he was inhumanly large; standing a full head taller than Lucene, he had to be over seven feet tall. Perhaps that did not matter, though. Lucene set out to face a dragon, if a fellow knight could stop her, then she would be little more than an annoying insect to a dragon. 

After a deep breath, Lucene took a step forward. In a flash, the knight raised his sword, standing on guard at the ready. Unsurprised, but disappointed, Lucene called out to him. “I do not wish to fight you, good sir. I am here to save a princess, captured by the foul she-dragon. Please, if you can help me, I beseech your aid.” Palms up, body language open, Lucene took one last last bold step toward him. His swing missed her throat by inches as she sprung back and drew her sword. With a throaty cry, she charge forward and swung downward with a heaving blow. With uncanny speed, the knight heaved his massive greatsword to effortlessly parry her swing. His follow up seemed slow, far weaker than she would have expected, was it some sort of feint? If so, Lucene danced around it with ease, and while he was off balance, slipped her sword through an opening in his guard. Again, he deflected her blow, this time with the edge of his hilt, his movements were simply that precise. She braced for his counter, only to find his foot sailing straight into her chest. Her mind reeled. How? How could he have moved so quickly and with such force when he was still mid recovering from his past swing. It didn’t matter; she’d failed. Lady Lucene clattered to the ground, ears ringing. Her opponent approached, and she struggled to stand. Before Lucene could find her footing, though, her opponent brought his pommel down upon her helm, and all went dark.