Through A Dragon's Eyes_A Reverse Harem Fantasy

by Marissa Farrar

  “I’m the leader of my clan,” Warsgra said.

  Orergon nodded. “And I of my tribe.” He gestured to one side of him, where Vehel was standing. “And Vehel Dawngleam is the son of the Elvish king.”

  Nimbus nodded. “So, a prince.” He looked back to Dela. “It isn’t coincidence that you’ve ended up here with the leaders of each of the races. With the strength of the dragons behind you, the four races will have no choice but to listen to you.

  Vehel lifted his hand. “They won’t listen to me. My father and brothers think little of me. They know I’m a natural mage, and they despise me for it.”

  Nimbus looked to him. “With a Dragonsayer behind you, they’d have no choice but to listen.”

  Vehel chewed on his lower lip but did not reply.

  Dela’s mind was spinning. The idea that her brother’s ring meant something other than a simple keepsake was crazy. Even more crazy was that she was anything more than just a girl. She felt as though she was caught in a dream, or perhaps still trapped in the effects of the poison of the Hunter fly.

  “We can’t just go to Drusga,” she said, half to herself.

  The little Fae spoke up. “With everything that’s happened, I don’t think you can afford not to. What are you going to do if you go back home and discover a war has already broken out because of what you did?”

  Responsibility pressed down heavily on her shoulders. She’d never asked for any of this. She wasn’t even sure she completely believed it. If it wasn’t for the prevalence of her dreams, she’d have rebelled against the possibility immediately, but how vivid those dreams were danced in her mind, refusing to leave her alone.

  Nimbus wasn’t finished with his lecture. He lifted his hand, pointing one long finger.

  “This country has been divided for too many years,” he said. “We think we live in peace, but do we? Each race despising the next one? Several hundred years ago, we all lived side by side, but then humans got greedy and wanted everything for themselves. The other races fought back, and humans weren’t expecting them to be such skilled foes. They regretted what they’d started, but not enough to view the other races as equals again, so they set up the Treaty and forced the other races to sign it. It was that, or everyone would end up wiped out, so they did. But you have to admit, it isn’t exactly fair. The Elvish, and Moerians, and Norcs are forced to go hungry, while the humans store up the grain, and then take gold and diamonds for themselves in exchange.”

  Dela raised her hand. “We go hungry, too. Before the Passover, the normal people of Anthoinia are starving. The prices shoot up when the quantity available is so much less, and most can’t afford it.”

  “And in the meantime, your king and queen watch over you, with their royal cellars filled with bags of grain.”

  “But that grain is needed to feed the other races. It’s not purely selfish on their part.”

  His eyebrows lifted in skepticism. “The other races would be able to feed themselves if they were allowed to colonize the eastern coasts as well. You’ve been outside of the walls of Anthoinia. Is there not plenty of spaces for others to reside and farm, should they want to?”

  She thought back to the seemingly endless stretches of countryside. Now he mentioned it, there was a lot of space with no one in it.

  “But don’t the other races like where they live? The Elvish love the Inverlands, the Moerians the Vast Plains. And what about you, Warsgra? I thought you loved the ruggedness of the mountains.”

  Warsgra nodded. “Aye, we do, but we’d also like the choice to be able to move if we wanted or needed to.”

  “That’s what was taken away during the Treaty,” Nimbus continued. “Free choice. Everyone looks like they’re living free lives, but actually we’re all living in our own prisons.”

  She’d never thought of things this way before. A part of her had always felt the wealth of the king and queen was a little unfair, exchanging food they needed for yet more wealth, but that was just how it was done, and they were always told it was so the other races were able to feed their families. It was practically a kindness. Yet the Fae was right in saying it was the Treaty that had created this situation, and that if the other races were simply allowed to farm some of the land on the eastern coast, the Passover wouldn’t need to happen. They wouldn’t have The Choosing every six months, and none of them would become part of the Chosen. Her brother would still be alive now, and so would Layla and Norton and Brer.

  They’d been so worried about breaking the Treaty, when actually the Treaty was the thing responsible for all of this in the first place.

  “If the Treaty is broken,” she said finally, “we’ll go back to a time of war.”

  His small face was serious. “The Treaty is already broken, and you can stop the war.”

  She shook her head. “No, I can’t. I’m just a human woman.”

  “No, you’re a Dragonsayer. With the power of dragons behind you, you can bring peace and unity back to Xantearos.”

  Chapter 25

  Vehel

  Vehel had the sudden feeling the world had just gotten to be a much larger place.

  “What do we do now?” he asked.

  “You have a responsibility to make sure she gets to Drusga,” Nimbus said. “I will feed you now, and give you what you need to reach the place, but you can’t ignore this.”

  “Dela?” Vehel turned to her. “What do you think?” None of them could make this decision without her buy-in first.

  She had a distant look in her brown eyes, as though she was seeing something they couldn’t. “Since I was a child, I’ve had a dream that I was flying. Not just flying, but soaring above and through the clouds. I always thought it was a normal thing to dream about, but now I’m starting to wonder …”

  “Do you think we should do this?” Vehel asked.

  She looked around at them all. “It’s not only me who’s doing it. If we all go, it’ll mean your family and friends will spend more time believing you’re all dead.”

  “If we go north,” Orergon said, “we might not make it there alive.”

  “We may not make it to the south alive either,” Vehel pointed out.

  Warsgra beat his chest with his fist. “But at least this way we’ll die on a quest.”

  Dela sighed. “No one is dying.” She put her head in her hands. “I can’t believe all of you would do this for me.”

  “It’s not just for you,” Vehel said. “I started this. I used magic in the Southern Pass, even before you came along. If what I did broke the Treaty and has started a second Great War, then this is more on my shoulders than it is yours.”

  “I think you’re looking at the smaller picture,” said Orergon. “This whole situation has been messed up since before the Treaty was signed. Xantearos has been divided for too long. The Elvish should be free to use magic if they so wish. And the Norcs should be allowed down from the mountainside. Perhaps we need things to change, and Dela being a Dragonsayer will do that.”

  She looked up at Orergon. “I’m no ruler. I’m just a girl.”

  “No, but each of us is a leader of our own race,” said Vehel. “We can help you.”

  She fixed her gaze on his. “I’m frightened I’m going to let everyone down.”

  “If we do nothing, we’ve already let everyone down.”

  Tears shimmered in her dark eyes, and she turned her face as though she didn’t want anyone else to see them. There was so much pressure on her shoulders, yet she was still doing her best to appear strong in front of them all.

  Nimbus interrupted. “You can take your pick of ponies from the paddock. Call it our contribution toward the cause. I’ll get some of the other Fae to pack you up some food and water, too.”

  Vehel nodded in his direction. “Thank you, Nimbus.”

  “So, it looks like we’re doing this.” Dela got to her feet. “I feel like this is the dream instead of the reality.”

  Orergon touched her arm. “Are you sure you’re ready to
move around? You’ve been through a lot.”

  She nodded. “I’m all right. It’s my head that feels more messed up than my body right now.” She reached to the back of her neck where the sting had been removed. “My neck does ache, though.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on it,” Vehel said, “and make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

  “Thanks.”

  Orergon turned toward the tiny front door, forced to bend almost in half as he went. “I’ll go and check out the ponies. Pick which ones look like they’ll be a good fit for us.”

  Warsgra followed him out. “I’ll come. I want to make sure I get whichever is the largest.”

  “And the meanest,” Dela added, but there was a twinkle in her eye now, and Vehel found himself smiling. Sure, they were a strange group, and if someone had told him a week ago that these would be his traveling companions, and he was rather enjoying their company, he’d have laughed them off. But when he compared these people to the other Elvish he’d traveled to the Southern Pass with—his father’s men—he wouldn’t have swapped any of them for a single one of these folk.

  He trusted them, he realized. He’d never trusted his previous companions. He’d always felt as though they were only looking out for him so they could report back to his father. But with Orergon and Warsgra—and Dela, too—he felt as though he could lay his life in their hands and they’d do everything in their power to protect it.

  “When was the last time you people ate?” Nimbus asked them, his brow furrowing disapprovingly and looking them up and down.

  Vehel exchanged a glance with Dela. “We managed to eat along the way, but Dela hasn’t eaten anything since last night.” He mentally kicked himself. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Of course, she would be hungry. All they’d managed to get down her was a few dribbles of water.

  Dela lifted her hand. “I’m okay, honest.”

  He frowned at her. “No, you need to eat. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us, and you need to keep up your strength.”

  Nimbus hopped from foot to foot. “He’s right, he’s right. I’ll get my people to put a meal together. Everyone can contribute.”

  “You don’t need to make a fuss,” Dela insisted. “Something simple will do.”

  “No, no. It’s no fuss. Not often we get visitors here, especially not ones of any importance.”

  Vehel watched the emotions change across her face—disbelief, awkwardness, and then gratitude.

  “I’m still having a hard time believing I’m anyone important,” she said.

  “In time, you will have no choice but to believe.” He clapped his abnormally long-fingered hands together. “Now, let me go and get everyone organized. We’ll set up a table outside so you won’t all have to crouch.”

  “Thank you, Nimbus. This is all incredibly kind of you.”

  He flapped away her compliments with his hand. “You can think of me when we’re all living in a happier and unified Xantearos.”

  Nimbus left the small house, leaving Vehel and Dela alone.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

  “Confused, and shocked.” She touched her fingers to the ring at her throat. “I can’t believe I’ve had this around my neck for three years and I’ve never known what it was.”

  “None of us did. The dragons were supposed to have died out hundreds of years ago, together with their magic. No one had any reason to think someone might still have a connection with them.”

  “And my brother? Did he have the same connection?”

  “I have no idea. If he was able to wear the ring, I guess he must have.”

  She exhaled a long, deep sigh.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked her with a frown.

  “I just wish he was here today. I wish I could ask him some of the hundreds of questions going through my head. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so alone.”

  “You’re not alone, Dela. Surely you must see that? You have us now.”

  She lifted her head and smiled at him. “You’re right, I do. And I’m eternally grateful for everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

  A commotion came from outside, and they both rose to their feet to peer out of the tiny window. Warsgra had taken a long table from six of the Fae who’d been carrying it, and had now lifted it above his head to set down in the small square in the center of the little group of cottages. The Fae scattered away from his feet as he strode, and then had to duck as he swung the table around to the position he wanted.

  Orergon appeared with a second table, which he carried with a little more grace and care than Warsgra, and set it down so the tables were end on end. The Fae brought out tiny stools and chairs, but it was unlikely either Orergon or Warsgra would be able to sit on them without crushing them flat. Not to mind. They’d be content enough with the floor.

  “I guess we should get out there,” Vehel said, looking down at the top of Dela’s strawberry blonde head.

  “Yes. I feel bad not helping.”

  Before they’d even made it outside, the Fae had already started to bring out bowls of fruits Vehel didn’t recognize, and jugs of sparkling drink. Tiny cakes and pastries were produced on silver platters, followed by breads, and cheeses, and cold meats to accompany them.

  Vehel laughed at the opulence. “They look like they’ve been planning for a party this whole time.”

  Dela’s face had lit up at the selection of foods as well. “Yes, it does.”

  Nimbus appeared at the front door, his head sticking through the gap. “Come, come. Sit. Eat your fill.”

  Dela and Vehel exchanged a smile and followed Nimbus out, both of them having to duck their heads through the door before they stepped outside into the bright sunshine.

  Warsgra had seated himself, cross legged on the ground at one end of the table, and Orergon the other. Dela was able to sit on one of the larger chairs, but Vehel chose the ground beside her. It wouldn’t look good to start breaking the Fae’s furniture when they’d gone to such effort.

  Warsgra didn’t wait for any more encouragement. He reached across the table and helped himself to meat and bread. With the Norc making the first move, Dela, too, started to pick items of food for herself—bread and cheese and fruit. She picked up one of the pastries, and to Vehel’s surprise, tears filled her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Don’t you like them?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I do. They just remind me of home. I bought my mother similar pastries the same morning I left for the Passover. I told her I’d be back, but now she believes she’s lost both her children. I hate to think of her in such pain, and I miss her and my father terribly.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight. “You’ll see them again.”

  She sniffed and nodded. “Yes, I hope so.”

  Vehel released her, and helped himself to the food on the table. He avoided the meat, but ate and drank his fill of everything else. The fruit was ripe, juice dribbling down his chin the moment he sank his teeth into its shiny skin, and though they were nowhere near the ocean, there was also a selection of different fishes, both smoked and dried, which he was able to eat with the bread. He didn’t want to look as though he was being greedy, but everyone else was piling their plates high, and it didn’t appear as though the Fae were on any kind of rations. So this must be how it was to live without needing to worry about the Passover, he mused. A life where there was plenty for everyone.

  The Fae sat around them, chattering to each other in between staring unabashedly at their new companions. Vehel noticed them gesture toward his pointed ears, and then back at their own. Perhaps this was the first time many of them had even seen an Elvish person.

  With the table cleared, and everyone seeming to be in a far better mood, Warsgra got to his feet. “Thank you for your hospitality, Nimbus, but if we’re going to cover any miles before nightfall, we really should be going.”

  The Fae jumped to his feet as well. “Yes, yes. Of course. Let us gather supplies
ready for your journey. You’ll not be leaving empty handed.”

  The remains of the feast were cleared away as quickly as it had been set up, and they got to work to ready themselves for their trip. How long would it take to reach Drusga from here? Days? Weeks? Or even longer? At least they wouldn’t be on foot.

  Vehel busied himself, helping the Fae to pack bags of food and blankets, and fill containers with fresh water. He ended up side by side with Nimbus, back in the little cottage, while Warsgra and Orergon got the ponies ready. The Fae was a strange looking little creature, but he certainly seemed to know what he was talking about. He wondered how old the Fae were. They lived even longer than the Elvish, so this one might be several hundred years old, though it felt rude to ask.

  “You can help her, you know,” Nimbus said from beside him, “if you just stop being so afraid.”

  Vehel straightened at his words. “I’m not afraid!”

  “Yes, you are. You’re afraid of your magic. You’re afraid of your family’s reaction to your magic. If you learn to embrace it, you could be very powerful. Dela the Dragonsayer is going to need someone like you by her side in the very near future.”

  Vehel didn’t want to admit it, but the Fae was right. The more he’d used his magic, the more he’d become fearful of its power and what it might do. It had brought the four of them here, after all, and he hadn’t planned for that to happen. He could have helped Dela with the Hunter fly sting, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it, worried that something would go wrong and he’d end up hurting her.

  “I don’t know how to embrace it,” he admitted eventually. “No one has ever taught me. My magic was always something to be ashamed of, and even feared.”

  “It’s a part of who you are. You need to learn to trust yourself.”

  Vehel nodded. “Yes, perhaps you’re right.”

  He’d doubted himself his whole life. The idea of trying to trust himself and the power within him that he’d spent most of his life trying to suppress was almost as overwhelming as the incredible journey they had ahead.