The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

They spent perhaps an hour like that, simply being present with the horses, enjoying the quiet peace of the stables.

But time moved relentlessly forward.

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, painting the stables in shades of orange and gold, Rowan finally stood and brushed hay from her skirt.

”I have to get back,” she said, though she clearly didn’t want to. ”Mistress Calla is strict about servants being back to their quarters at specific times. If I’m late, she’ll notice, and there will be questions.”

Morgana nodded, though the prospect of Rowan leaving and returning to her isolation was almost unbearable.

They embraced again, and this time Morgana allowed herself to simply hold her friend close, drawing what comfort she could from the simple physical presence of someone who cared about her.

”Be careful,” Rowan said softly when they finally pulled apart. ”Whatever’s happening in the palace, whatever strange things are going on... be careful. And please, come find me if you need to talk to someone. Promise me.”

”I promise,” Morgana said, and she meant it.

They walked together to the stable entrance, and Morgana watched as Rowan hurried back toward the palace proper, her auburn curls catching the last light of the day.

When her friend had disappeared from view, the silence of the stables seemed to close in around Morgana like a shroud.

She turned back toward the stable proper, moving mechanically through the evening routines. Checking on each horse, ensuring they had water, ensuring the stalls were clean and secure for the night.

The work was familiar, but the joy had gone out of it.

***

Night had fully fallen by the time Morgana reached her small room.

It was a modest space, barely more than a closet, really. A narrow bed, a small table, a single window that looked out onto the palace grounds. Nothing fancy, nothing comfortable, but it was hers, and she had come to cherish the small privacy it offered her.

But tonight, privacy felt like imprisonment.

She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind churning with everything that was happening.

She rolled over in her bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but there was none. Her body felt restless, as if she needed to move, needed to do something rather than lying here passively, waiting for things to happen to her.

She felt suffocated.

The walls of her small room seemed to be pressing in on her.

Her magic was churning beneath her skin, demanding release, demanding to be expressed in its full power rather than constantly suppressed and hidden and controlled.

She wanted to scream.

Instead, she got out of bed.

Pacing her small room, her mind working through options, through possibilities, through the desperate need to break free from this suffocation.

I need to get out of the palace, she thought. I need to see Atheris. I need to be somewhere where I don’t have to hide. I need to breathe.

She knew it was dangerous. Security had been tighter since the rumors about the transformation. There were guards watching passages more carefully. There were... watchers. Spies. People whose job it was to observe and report.

But staying here would drive her insane.

She needed Atheris. She needed the dragon’s ancient wisdom, his understanding, his acceptance. She needed to feel the full force of her own magic without fear of discovery or punishment.

She needed to be free, if only for a few hours.

***

Morgana stood at the window of her room, looking out at the palace grounds bathed in moonlight.

The mountain path to Atheris’s cave was familiar to her now. She knew which guards were positioned where. She knew which passages to use to avoid being seen. She knew the rhythm of the palace at night and how to move through it unseen.

But it had never been this risky before.

Before, there had been no spy. Before, there had been no watcher. Before, she had simply been one unremarkable servant among dozens of others, not worthy of special attention.

Now, everything had changed.

If I leave, and the watcher notices, if they follow me, if they discover where I’m going...

The thought was terrifying. To reveal Atheris would be to put the dragon at risk. To put Atheris in the hands of the council and the palace authorities.

But if she didn’t leave, if she didn’t escape this suffocation, she felt like she would shatter. Like her magic would explode out of her uncontrolled, destroying everything around her.

It was an impossible choice.

But then, almost of its own accord, the decision made itself.

She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t spend another night trapped in this small room. Even if it was dangerous. Even if it was risky.

She needed Atheris.

The dragon was the only place where she could be herself. The only place where her magic didn’t have to hide. The only place where she was truly accepted for what she was, rather than what she appeared to be.

I’ll be careful, she told herself. I’ll watch for followers. I’ll use the old passages. No one will know I was gone.

It was a lie, and she knew it. There was real danger in this choice. Real consequences if she was discovered.

But the alternative...staying, suffocating, slowly being crushed by the weight of her own suppressed magic and her own desperate need for answers, was unbearable.

She turned from the window and moved to her small wardrobe.

She dressed carefully in dark clothing.

Black leggings. A dark grey tunic. Soft-soled boots that would make minimal sound on stone. Over it all, the black cloak she had come to use for these nighttime excursions to the mountain.

She pulled the hood up, shadows obscuring her face, and stood for a moment looking at herself in the small mirror on her wall. A stranger looked back, a figure cloaked in darkness, ready for secrets and shadows.

She took a breath.

Then another.

In her chest, she could feel her magic responding to her determination, building in intensity, preparing itself for release or action or whatever was coming next.

She moved to her door and opened it carefully, listening for sounds in the corridor beyond. The servants’ quarters were quiet at this hour. Most of the servants were already asleep or engaged in private activities in their rooms.

She stepped out into the dimly lit corridor and began to move.

Slowly. Carefully. One step at a time, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cold stone floor. Her heart was hammering in her chest, every sense alert for danger, for the sound of approaching footsteps, for the discovery that would ruin everything.

She reached the main corridor leading toward the eastern passages, the route that would take her away from the main palace areas, toward the older, less-used sections that led eventually to the exterior walls.

As she moved, she was acutely aware of every shadow, every sound, every possibility of discovery.

The weight of the decision settled more heavily on her as she moved deeper into the palace. She was really doing this. She was really risking everything, to get out of the palace and see the dragon.

Because she couldn’t bear not to.

Because she was drowning, and Atheris was the only thing that could save her.

She pulled her cloak tighter around herself as she moved through the stone corridors, the moonlight streaming through occasional windows illuminating her path like ghostly fingers pointing the way.

The palace faded behind her as she pushed open a heavy wooden door that led toward the outer areas, and the night air....cold and clean and carrying the scent of the mountains beyond, rushed in to meet her.