Page 19 of Cursed with the Dragon Prince
“At this time, a clever queen sat upon Wisp’s throne. Queen Prima was bold enough to swim in magma pools and fly to the other isles. Together, they plotted the creation of dragon crystal.
“We still make dragon crystal, to this very day, in the heart of our volcanoes, crafting Wisp’s special magma—rich with sand and minerals. Since the process relies on the impervious skin of our dragon forms, no other fae can produce this. The resulting glass is valued for its clarity and durability, a necessary resource when building homes for the fae.
“Soon the Nearbright Sea brought Wisp her first merchant, and when Queen Prima demonstrated the potential of the crystal, the first trade deal was sealed. Word of this specialty glass spread throughout the isles, its trade becoming a reliable source of food. Finally, our clan could expand, filling the vast caverns that you now see.”
She stops there, and though she clearly has more to say, I appreciate the pause. My mind soaks this in. She lies back and floats, her gray hair fanning away from her. I try to relax, but my mind races—the world is new. There is much to take in.
I admire the cave with new appreciation. These exquisite details don’t simply form in Wisp’s caves—the isle crafted them herself. Wisp is beyond my comprehension, and yet she fills my future. Maybe my past too.
The scales at my neck, my empty womb… If Wisp could influence the Nearbright Sea to bring her a merchant, did she give me my birthmark, my curse? Did she ask the sea to throw me overboard, delivering me to these shores? There are too many coincidences to simply dismiss. Was this always my destiny—did I ever have a choice?
These are questions I’m not ready to ask, and I keep my focus on the next chapter of this tale. “What changed?” I ask. “You still haven’t explained the curse.”
She’s quiet, but I know she hears my question, and she muses her thoughts, swimming toward a wall and sitting upon a ledge. Her feet sway in the warm water as I look up to her, expectant for the next story she’s about to share.
“Countless generations have passed since that first merchant and the glory days of dragon crystal. Our once legendary creation has become ubiquitous, so durable that there is no longer demand. Our once explosive trade slowed to a trickle.
“King Ichor, Drakon’s grandfather, ascended to the throne under such dwindling conditions, vowing change. He would innovate something new, he said, something novel the merchants would crave.
“The following year, he isolated himself in one of our calderas, manufacturing Wisp’s magma into something new. He was never the same after that, but from his madness, ingenuity was born. When King Ichor rose, he carried the first dragon blade.
“Like our crystal, the metal was nearly unbreakable. It was keen and difficult to dull, a vast improvement over other fae weapons. In total, he manufactured seven swords and one dagger, the dragon blades, and prepared for the next merchant to visit our shores.
“At the time, we were ecstatic, unsuspecting that Wisp disapproved of this creation, despising how he warped her mantle into a weapon. But only our king could commune with her, and he refused to relay her warnings until it was too late.
“We celebrated the day he sold that first batch of dragon blades, acquiring a hefty sum. Except as the merchant sailed on the horizon, the magma pools spat, Wisp bubbling at the abuse of her magma. The volcanoes rumbled as Wisp lashed out.
“Whispers spread amongst the clan, knowing something was wrong, and together we confronted King Ichor in the greathall. He faced us, seated upon Wisp’s throne, still refusing to communicate the nature of Wisp’s displeasure, when the curse took hold.
“Ropes of magma tied our king to his throne, welding his body to the golden chair. His eyes grew white, and no longer himself, Wisp took command of his body, speaking through him. ‘I curse you,’ the isle began. ‘Your king ignored me, trading weapons to merchants, despite my disapproval. And so I take your king and curse your clan—he violated my magma, and in exchange, I take your power of creation. You will bear no more children.’
“The hall grew silent then—all except Drakon, who cried out, an infant, the final faeling born to our clan.”
I swallow, the pain of their curse one that’s dear to me, and I grow tense, angry that any deity would curse a people this way—a clan they mothered. A deity that… I’m connected to.“But you can break the curse,” I counter. “Through me.”
Kaliyah nods. “Wisp continued, ‘You will have three chances to break this curse, to find a ruler worthy of my throne—someone willing to give up everything to join your clan. I will transform three humans into dragon fae, granting them the opportunity to swim in my caldera, to attempt the ascension rite. If you can convince them you’re worthy—if they can pass the rites—I will forgive your king’s abuse and lift this curse.’
“Her words spoken, Wisp tightened her grasp on our final king, absorbing him into the very throne in which he sat. He protested, his claws ripping at the throne—damaging it. The throne bled, red lava pooling upon its seat, and from Wisp’s blood, she created the Maledictum, a lava-red rose with the thorns to transform three humans.”
A cold breeze passes through the chamber, chilling me, even in the warm water. Only it can’t be a true breeze—we’re enclosed.
I feel empowered—I feel taken advantage of, stripped of my former life and flung into something I can’t understand.
“You’re our last chance to break this curse,” she finishes.
But I still have questions. “What happened before, to the other humans?”
“The first human preferred to return to the human continent. As for the second…” Her expression darkens. “She successfully claimed her dragon form before dying during the ascension rite. There is more to say, only it’s not my story to tell. It’s Scorpia’s—and Drakon’s.”
I nod, recalling how the two of them stared at each other. Scorpia’s anger drove Drakon to defensiveness. Despite his strength, he wilted under her critical gaze. Like my appearance meant he had done something wrong.
Kaliyah continues, “Many decades have passed since those dark days. Our clan is even smaller now as more leave for livelier shores. For all these decades, I’ve kept the Maledictum hidden, delaying until the right opportunity—” she meets my gaze, and I wish I didn’t see hope in her expression “—and it seems the opportunity found you.”
I swallow. It’s silent again, and my thoughts race. I lie back upon the mineral water, floating. I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, staring at the stalactites on the ceiling. There are no words to tell Kaliyah how I never wanted this.
But I cannot drift forever, and eventually my stomach grumbles. I’m reminded of why we’re here.
“You said there will be a banquet?” I ask, rising from the water.
