Dragonheart: The Lost Kingdom of Fallada

Prologue

Hundreds of years ago , dragons roamed freely in Fallada. If you were to ask someone how they came to be, they would be hard-pressed to offer you an accurate answer. You see, no one quite knows where they came from, though many legends and falsehoods have sprung up over the years. Some say they were forged in the fires of the Dwarf city of Skel’gar—where those who live underground mine precious ore and melt it down. Others say that the very first Fae woman who ever existed gave birth to a stillborn child, who, upon being buried in the sacred earth of Goldun, sprung forth with new life—covered in scales with wings and glowing red eyes. Many believe they are a hybrid, created from the blood of a bird mixed with those of several reptiles—a type of magic that has been attempted throughout the years with no success.

The truth, dear friend, is that dragons were not made by magic—they are magic. Their existence predates that of even the first Faeries. It is my firm belief that they are the prehistoric creatures of our world—sprung from the magic that lingered in the air before any of the realms we now inhabit had fully formed. Much like your world’s dinosaurs roamed the Earth several millennia before the existence of mankind.

We are not certain how long they thrived in high numbers, flourishing alongside the other enchanted creatures of Fallada. However, many who have lived as long as I have can surely remember when dragons began dying in Fallada. I was but a child myself, the cares of the world not yet beginning to weigh upon my shoulders. Five hundred years would pass before I would be crowned Queen of the Faeries of Goldun, and I had yet to have my first taste of love or loss.

But, I will never forget the first time I watched a dragon die.

The healers brought it into the palace, trying everything they could to cure the poor creature. They attempted healing by water, through spells and potions. Every book or scroll containing information on the anatomy, care, and habits of dragons were pulled from the archives, my father, the king, entreating the historians and scientists to search for the answers day and night. I stood in the throne room of Osbel Tower, clinging to the skirt of my mother’s gown, tears in my eyes as the beast thrashed and cried out in agony while some sort of poison coursed through its body. Its flames sputtered out, the gleam in its jade eyes dying away, while all the color melted away from its beautiful scales. Its wings curled up and disintegrated into ash ... and the magnificent creature was no more.

That day will forever stand out in my memory for another reason ... because, it would be the first time I heard the words ‘black magic’ uttered aloud. The first time I noticed the sheer dread it inspired in everyone who heard it. As a child, I assumed this black magic must be an illness ... some sort of disease that made the dragons sick. All across the realm of Fallada, reports of diseased dragons spread. They perished daily, in clusters of threes and fours, and then eventually by the tens. Where it had once been common to see them flying overhead alongside the massive birds of prey that flock to Goldun, it eventually became rare, almost unheard of. By the time I began to reach adulthood, only ten dragons remained in all of Fallada, and the spread of this disease called ‘black magic’ became more understood than ever before.

A faction of the Prophets we relied upon for their wisdom and foresight had turned to unorthodox practices ... ways of using magic that had been forbidden centuries ago. As they fell under the addictive thrall of the dark arts, they transformed into the hideous, gnarled creatures we know as Witches and Sorcerers. It seemed that for every Witch or Sorcerer that was spawned, a dozen dragons died, their pure, unpolluted magic snuffed out by the dark cloud hovering over our world.

Hoping to put an end to such treachery, my father called together a council of the kings and queens of Fallada’s four realms. Together, they enacted laws banning the practice of black magic, the penalty for which was death.

By the time the laws had passed, it was too late to save the dragons. The last of them perished, while the few eggs that had been left behind hardened and became like stone. Beautiful to look at, but assumed to contain the preserved corpses of dragons. I say presumed, because on the rare occasion anyone attempted cracking an egg, the entire thing would crumble into dust.

If you are well-versed in the history of Fallada, then surely you are aware that this emergence of black magic was responsible for the rise of Queen Eranna, Fallada’s most feared enemy. Through her, the Witches found a way to spread their poison―the hatred, envy, and malice inside the heart of the ice queen the perfect catalyst. Despite being aware of a prophecy that declared the daughters of Fallada’s royals would someday defeat her and restore balance, many of us had given up hope that dragons would ever exist in Fallada again. Too much damage had been done, and without dragon mothers to nurture the remaining eggs, they became nothing more than relics of a forgotten time.

I must admit, the young girl inside of me who watched that dragon die fostered a great hope. I hoped that with the return of Fallada’s lost princesses, the pure magic would begin to outweigh the dark, creating the right conditions for dragons to thrive.

To this day, I am not certain whether bringing four of them home proved enough to coax the dragons out of their shells, or if all we ever needed was the ingenuity and faith of one princess in particular.

I speak of Princess Sonia of Zenun, Fallada’s water kingdom. Entrusted with the dragon eggs to keep them out of the reach of Eranna and her followers, Sonia had been one of the only people possessing enough faith to bring dragons back to Fallada again. Perhaps it was her ardent belief that life could be born of those eggs, or maybe there is something inside of her that even I cannot see—something deep within her heart that marks her as the one to nurture and care for the first dragons Fallada has seen in centuries.

Whatever the case, three of four eggs hatched, and our world now contains an earth wyvern, a fire-breathing dragon, and a sandsnake. One unhatched egg is believed to hold a sea serpent. While I am overjoyed by this development, I am also very much aware of how precarious things have become. Thanks to Eranna and the corrupted Dark Fae, black magic is at an all-time high in Fallada. The existence of such creatures is enough to appeal to the greed and propensity for deception that seems to live in us all. Even the servants of my own household cannot be trusted, as one of them attempted to steal the fire-breather—no doubt, in order to deliver him to Eranna for some sort of reward.

And so, Sonia and her four brothers, the princes of Zenun, have gone into hiding in order to keep the creatures safe. Even though Princess Jocylene and her sister, Queen Desdemona, defeated Eranna in what is being called the Battle for Semran Hall, I do not believe we are out of the woods quite yet. The witch-queen’s lover, Kalodan, ruler of the Dark Fae, leads an army of others like him—along with Minotaurs, Witches, Sorcerers, and hundreds of shapeshifters of all species. As well, he has created a blood magic Phoenix, which he used to decimate Fallada’s forests.

My friend, though Eranna met her end, this war is far from over. Two parts of the prophecy have yet to be fulfilled, and the High Princess of Fallada, Princess Gytha, remains in a deep, enchanted sleep. Meanwhile, Kalodan’s army is on the move, sweeping through Fallada and terrorizing those who have not yet fled to Goldun, Damu, or Mollac for protection.

The time draws near for Sonia to take her place, and rise up as the next princess to fulfill her part of the prophecy. Yet, much to her frustration, her powers have yet to manifest. While she possesses the power to shapeshift into a Mermaid like all the people of Zenun, she has yet to find her unique ability. However, I do not worry for our Sonia, my friend. For, just like the other princesses of Fallada, she must tread her own path ... and from what I have foreseen, her path will prove to be a unique one indeed. I have faith that she will come into her destiny in a way that will surprise us all. The youngest of the princesses and the last to discover her abilities, she may turn out to be one of the most powerful of all.

Chapter One

Damu, Fallada

Sonia Jones grinned, her feet pounding over the sand dunes of the desert landscape, kicking up flurries of dust with each step. The sun beat down on her from a cloudless sky, causing sweat to glisten on her forehead. Before her sand and sky stretched on for miles, seeming never-ending from where she ran, breathing in dry air that tasted like spices and reveling in the freedom she had stolen for herself. She would be forced to endure a lecture from one, or all four of her brothers for this, but it would be worth it.

A loud, ear-ringing squawk preceded an explosion of sand to her left, drawing her up short. With a laugh, she stumbled to a stop, sputtering and swiping sand off her face as she tracked the movement of the creature arcing up out of the ground with her gaze. Its scales glistened like precious gold, its copper hued wings flapping, then folding behind its back as it dove back into the dunes. It disappeared, and a long, raised section of sand showed her where it was headed before it leapt back up into the air, spreading its wings and circling over her head with another loud screech.

Storm. The sand serpent had been the second of three dragons hatched from the eggs her mother had entrusted her with. With four legs and a long, snakelike body, she nearly blended into the sand she delighted in burrowing through.

From higher in the sky, Storm’s brother, Hellboy, descended, answering her call with a belch of flames. The tongues of fire heated the air in front of her face, adding to the high temperature of her surroundings.

With ruby red scales and onyx black wings, he had a shorter, stockier body than his sister. His barbed tail swished through the air as he slammed into her, engaging her in a playful airborne wrestling match.

From her side, the smallest of the three and the last to hatch, Arrow, ran on his two legs, his brown wings spread out to either side of him. His scales reminded her of emeralds glistening in the light of the sun. He squawked at his siblings, a sound that Sonia interpreted as annoyance at having been left out.

She reached down to scoop Arrow into her hands, gently tossing him in the air in their direction. Flapping his wings, he swooped up and slammed into the wrestling duo, sending all three of them into the sand in a writhing mass of talons, scales, and wings.

Sonia laughed, tramping toward them and dropping to her knees in the sand. Grasping Arrow by the back of his neck, she gently but firmly wrestled him away from the others, settling him in her lap. He snuggled against her, glaring back at the other two as if to rub it in that he sat in her lap—something neither of them could do anymore because of how much they’d grown. Storm snapped her teeth and Hellboy growled, only making Sonia laugh harder. The little beasts were fierce, but at this point were still more bark than bite. Baby dragons, she’d been told, did not remain babies for long—so she would enjoy this phase while it lasted.

Since there were no dragon mothers around to nurture them, that job had fallen to Sonia. However, once they reached full size and became strong enough to fend for themselves, they would fly away to find homes of their own. The prospect saddened her, even though she’d been told this was the way things were. Dragons were meant to be free to hunt, fly, and ... well, do whatever it was creatures so full of magic and strength wanted to do. Still, she’d been the one to find them, hidden away in a wall in Eridell Castle—the royal home of her family in the underwater kingdom of Zenun. She’d been the one to figure out how to hatch them, how to bring back to life something that had been extinct in Fallada for hundreds of years.

She didn’t get an ounce of smugness out of her accomplishment ... only pride. In the time that had passed since she and her sister had discovered their true heritage and taken their place as princesses of Fallada, she’d felt helpless. The only one of the lost daughters who hadn’t discovered her powers, as well as the youngest. While the others had gone out to fight, she’d been forced to stay behind, guarded within the walls of first Goldun, and now Damu.

"Well, none of them ever hatched a dragon egg, she murmured, scratching the top of Hellboy’s head with a grin. Did they? No, they didn’t."

Having accomplished something no one else in this world had been able to do for centuries made her feel, for the first time since arriving, as if she truly belonged here.

As she rose to her feet, Arrow scurried around her side and up her back before perching on her shoulder, his tail draping around the back of her neck and one of his wings tangling in her braids.

Storm burrowed back beneath the sand, while Hellboy took to the sky, keeping watch from overhead. While he was still young, and learning to produce fire on a whim, he proved to be the best lookout Sonia had ever seen. He could see for miles, and always knew to warn her if someone or something got too close. Not that she ever had anything to worry about enclosed in the four walls of the city of Damu. Aside from Goldun, it had become the safest place in all of Fallada—practically untouched by Eranna, Kalodan, or their dark army of Witches, Sorcerers, and corrupted Fae.

Which was why the sight of dust billowing in the distance and Hellboy’s half-hearted warning didn’t bother her much. Whoever was coming approached from the direction of the city and posed no threat to her. Heaving a sigh, she reached up to stroke Arrow’s belly.

Well ... the cavalry’s here, buddy, she muttered. Party’s over.

It did not take long for the party to draw closer, the dust fading away to reveal a small contingent of Centaurs. From a distance, she noticed the red and gold sashes tied around their human waists, marking them as palace sentries. As they came nearer, she recognized the hulking forms of her elder brothers—Syris, Cailin, Orath, and Eurie—seated on the horse flanks of the creatures. Despite having learned how to tell them apart, just now they wore identical expressions of annoyance.

The Centaurs thundered to a stop and Orath, the eldest and crowned prince of Zenun, slid off the back of his Centaur. He strode toward her with both hands clenched into fists, his eyebrows snapping together and his dark eyes narrowing. His deep brown skin seemed to shimmer in the light of the sun.

’Sup, big bro? she said before he could speak, flashing a wide smile. Is that a new haircut? That’s nice, you look—

Sonia, he snapped, cutting her off.

She couldn’t help a laugh at his expression—a mixture of confusion and anger. Orath had been bald since the day she’d first met him ... as far as she knew, he either didn’t grow hair at all or some sort of magic kept his head as smooth and shiny as an 8 ball. The joke about a new haircut had gone right over his head.

I just wanted some fresh air, she said before he could launch into a lecture. Don’t make a big deal out of it.

There is nothing wrong with the air inside the city, he countered.

Coming toward her, he reached out as if to grab her arm. Arrow hissed at him, snapping his jaws just short of Orath’s fingers. Her brother reared back, wincing as Hellboy swooped down from above, letting loose a screech of rage right in his face.

They didn’t seem to think so, she said with a smirk. They can’t stay cooped up inside the palace, Orath. Dragons need open space ... the freedom to fly and hunt and grow!

As if on cue, Storm appeared from beneath the sand, sending up more of the grit in a cloud that covered Orath from head to toe. Then, curling up around her feet, the female sand-serpent glared at him, her forked tongue flicking out from between her teeth.

Brushing dust and sand off his shoulders, he sighed. We do not keep you inside the walls to punish you, or them, Sonia. It is to keep you safe.

Hellboy circled over her head again, releasing an impressive stream of fire ... more than she’d ever seen him make in one huff.

I’m surrounded by dragons everywhere I go. Who’s going to mess with me?

The three of them hissed and snarled as if backing her up, which only seemed to aggravate Orath more.

The Dark Fae and their blood magic Phoenix, for one, he reminded her.

That stole all the humor out of the moment. She’d been enjoying her time away from the palace so much, she had almost forgotten about the new dangers facing them. Yes, Eranna had finally been taken down by Princess Jocylene, and her sister, Desdemona—who was now Queen of Mollac. However, her Dark Fae lover, Kalodan, had used blood magic to create his own Phoenix—a creature without a human counterpart that did not shapeshift and was driven by the dark urges of its handler. He had used it to decimate Fallada’s forests while his Dark Fae army had attacked the Elf realm of Inador.

I wasn’t trying to put myself in danger, she relented, lowering her eyes. I just ... I’m tired of hiding.

Her brother’s expression softened, and the sweet, compassionate man she knew him to be beneath his gruff exterior came through. As a warrior, I feel the same way, believe me. But we must wait our turn to do our part, must we not? And until you discover and develop your abilities, you have to be protected. We just want you safe, Sonia. If Kalodan could, he’d kill you before you have a chance to fulfill your part of the prophecy.

Nodding, she took a step toward her brother, then another. The dragons seemed to take this as a sign to stand down, because Arrow remained passive on her shoulder, while Hellboy and Storm followed in silence. The first being they had encountered upon hatching, they seemed in tune with her emotions and thoughts. When she became upset, they grew angry. Whenever she was happy—as she had been just now, running with them in the open beauty of Damu—they seemed content. Whatever it was that connected her to the little dragons, Sonia was glad for it. At least she knew she was not alone in her feelings at any given moment.

Come, Orath urged, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her toward one of the waiting Centaurs. Perhaps a bit of time in the pools, honing your combat skills?

Sonia stifled a groan as she climbed onto the back of one of the half-human, half-horse creatures. When her brothers got it in their heads that she needed to practice shapeshifting and fighting underwater, the training often lasted for hours. After her free time had been cut short, it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Instead of protesting, she merely nodded in agreement, as their party turned back toward Damu.

Hours later, Sonia entered her guest room in the heart of Damu’s royal palace. After one of the Fae servants at Osbel Tower had tried to steal Hellboy and deliver him to Kalodan, Queen Adrah had charged her brothers with finding someplace safe to keep them. As it had turned out, Damu was the safest place for her and the dragons, and King Eldalwen and Queen Axonia had been happy to open their gates, as well as their home. Behind the high stone walls, in the center of a city locked down like a military compound and patrolled by war-hungry Centaurs, they were protected, though Sonia had begun to feel more like a prisoner than a guest.

As she closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh, she took in her opulent surroundings. Really, she had no reason to complain. From the moment she’d come here, she had been catered to in the lap of luxury. She had gone from a beautiful, opulent room in Goldun, to an equally beautiful, opulent room in Damu—with thick rugs, heavy tapestries thrown open to allow light in through pillared archways, and painted ceilings. The large suite consisted of a spacious bedroom that opened into an airy sitting room—which she had transformed into a sanctuary for her dragons. In one corner of the room, a large, open fireplace glowed with a pile of enchanted rocks that glowed like hot coals. The rocks came from this corner of the realm, and once imparted with heat from a fire, maintained their warmth. It was there that Hellboy went, curling up happily on his hot rocks and settling in for a long nap. Another side of the room had been covered in mounds of sand—under which Storm crawled for her own rest. Arrow flew to his cage, a massive thing hanging in the center of the room. Being smaller than the others, he seemed to prefer his own space. Sonia had packed the bottom of the cage with mud and sticks she had collected on their journey from Goldun. It wasn’t as much earth as the little wyvern might have liked, but for now it kept him content.

Through the open archway leading out onto her private balcony she could see the walls around the palace, and the sprawling courtyards below, where warriors trained, and members of the royal family went about their