The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

Eventually, Morgana collapsed against Atheris’s massive form, completely exhausted from the intensity of the magical training. She settled into the familiar alcove against his warm scales, and he coiled his massive body around her, creating a protective barrier against the world.

”Sleep if you can,” he said gently. ”But do not sleep too long. You must be back at the palace before full dawn, or your absence will be noticed.”

But Morgana didn’t sleep. She lay against his warmth, her mind spinning with everything she had learned, everything she had experienced.

”Atheris,” she said finally, ”what happens now? What happens when I go back to the palace? What happens when they eventually discover what I can do?”

He was silent for a long time.

”The palace will become more dangerous,” he said at last, his ancient voice carrying weight that seemed to come from the depths of the earth. ”The secrets being kept are growing heavier. The burden of constraint on the realm is reaching a breaking point. The stakes are rising with each passing day.”

He paused, and Morgana felt his breath moving through the cave, felt the resonance of his ancient presence.

”There are forces at work that you do not yet understand,” he continued. ”Forces that would use you, control you, or destroy you if they could. There are those in the palace who are working toward goals that are hidden even from the kings. There are connections and relationships and histories that will be revealed in time, and when they are revealed, your world will change.”

”Will I survive it?” Morgana asked quietly.

”That depends on choices you have not yet made,” Atheris said. ”And on choices that others will make regarding you. There will come a moment when you can no longer hide. When you must choose between concealment and revelation. When you must stand forward and claim what you are, regardless of the consequences.”

”Will you be with me?” Morgana asked, hearing the fear in her own voice. ”When that moment comes?”

Atheris lowered his enormous head until his face was close to hers.

”I will always be part of you,” he said. ”And you are never truly alone, even when you feel like you are. But there will come a time when you must stand alone. When you must make a choice that only you can make. When you must trust in yourself in ways that you have not yet learned to do.”

His golden eyes were infinitely sad.

”That time is coming,”he said. ”Sooner than I would like, and sooner than you are ready for. But that is the nature of destiny. It arrives whether you are prepared or not.”

Morgana lay against him, processing his words, understanding that there were truths he was not telling her, mysteries he was still holding back.

But she also understood that his refusal to reveal those truths was not cruelty. It was protection. It was wisdom. It was the careful guidance of someone who had seen centuries pass and understood things about the nature of power and revelation that she could not yet comprehend.

”I trust you,” she said finally. ”I don’t understand everything you’re not telling me, and I’m frustrated by the mysteries. But I trust that you have reasons for keeping them. I trust that when the time comes, I’ll understand why the waiting was necessary.”

Atheris made a sound...something between a rumble and a purr, that seemed to contain profound affection.

”That trust is perhaps your greatest strength,” he said.

***

As the sky began to shift toward the true predawn, that magical time when night was releasing its hold but day had not yet fully arrived, Morgana rose reluctantly from against Atheris’s warmth.

”I have to go,” she said, though every part of her wanted to stay in the safety of the cave, in the presence of the one being who truly understood her.

”Yes,” Atheris agreed. ”The palace will wake soon, and you must be in your chambers when it does. Practice the concealment spell on your journey back. Let no one see you clearly. Be unremarkable, forgettable, the kind of servant that people dismiss without consciously noticing.”

Morgana moved toward the cave entrance, but Atheris called her back.

”Morgana,” he said, ”touch your hand to my scales one more time before you leave.”

She did, pressing her palm against the warm, ancient scales of his forearm. For just a moment, she felt a surge of his magic...old and vast and powerful beyond measure. It flowed into her like a blessing, settling into her core.

”Go now,” he said. ”And remember who you are. Not the servant girl of the palace. But the power-holder who contains fire and magic and the recognition of ancient beings. Remember that, and you will have the courage to face whatever comes.”

Morgana nodded, words caught in her throat.

She turned and moved toward the cave entrance, her black cloak swirling around her. As she reached the narrow passage that led out of the cave, she paused and looked back one final time.

Atheris was settling back into his resting position, his golden eyes watching her until the very last moment. His chains sang softly as he coiled, and the magical light of the cave seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat.

Then Morgana was through the passage and outside.

The pre-dawn air was cold and clear, carrying the scent of coming dawn. The stars were fading. The sky was beginning to shift from deep indigo to a pale grey-blue that promised sunrise within the next hour or so.

She began her journey back to the palace.

This time, she activated the concealment spell and maintained it as she moved. She passed a group of farmers beginning their early-morning work and they looked right through her. She moved through the lower city, past servants opening their shops for the day, and none of them truly saw her. She moved through the palace grounds as if she were a shadow, a whisper, something too unremarkable to command attention.

She reached her small room in the stables just as the first hints of true dawn were touching the eastern sky.

She collapsed onto her bed, exhausted beyond measure, her entire body aching from the intensity of the magical work.

But her mind was not at rest.

She lay in the pre-dawn darkness, and despite her exhaustion, she found herself smiling.

She raised her hand in the darkness of her room and created a small flame....just a gesture, just a reminder to herself of what she was capable of. The fire danced in her palm, golden and crimson, beautiful and dangerous.

Then she extinguished it and allowed herself to finally, finally sleep.