Sealed Letter

Sealed Letter


The forest was quiet now. The battle was over, but Lyra’s heart was still racing. Smoke is everywhere on the battlefield, and the fallen cursed dragon lay still on the ground, its wings scorched and torn. Lyra kneeled beside the small dragon hatchling she had rescued. It was trembling in her arms, eyes wide and confused. She gently checked its wings and legs, whispering softly, “You’re safe now… I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

They flowed back to the kingdom a little slowly. The morning mist clung to the trees, and Lyra’s thoughts were heavy. The loss of the cursed dragon hurted her deeply, even if it had attacked them. She could still feel the way it had looked at her like it remembered something she didn’t. The guards behind her stayed silent, their armor stained from the fight.

When she reached the castle gates, people gathered to see her. Some clapped. Some cried. One woman even dropped to her knees in relief. Lyra didn’t smile. Her mind was still in the forest, with the dragon who died and the questions that wouldn’t stop forming in her head.

Inside the grand hall, King Aldric sat on his tall throne, surrounded by the council. Lyra walked in, cradling the hatchling, and stood tall. She gave her report. “We won. The dragon was cursed, controlled by witches. We lost two guards… but I saved the hatchling.” Her voice cracked slightly at the end, but she didn’t look away.

The council murmured among themselves. “The witches are getting bolder,” one man said. “What do they want with dragons?” asked another.

Later that day, Lyra sat in her chambers, staring at the broken staff taken from the witch leader. Strange runes were carved into the wood, and a shattered amulet dangled from it. One of the king’s advisors brought her a scroll with old symbols. “These runes… they might lead us to their lair,” he whispered.

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “Good. Then we’ll go find them.”

King Aldric gave his approval that evening. “But take only a few warriors,” he warned. “You’ll need to move fast and quiet.” Lyra nodded, already picking names in her mind. They would leave at first light.

That night, Lyra visited the backyard .The little hatchling rested on a pile of warm hay. She brought it milk in a bowl, and it slowly drank. “You’re going to grow big and strong,” she said softly, stroking its tiny horns. It made a soft, purring sound and nuzzled into her palm,she felt relief for some reason, Lyra felt a ray of hope.

As she turned to leave, she heard soft voices behind the backyard walls. Two servants were whispering.

“Did you hear? Someone saw a shadowy figure near the old border. Tall… wearing black. Some think it’s the vampire prince.”

Lyra froze. Her chest tightened, Vampire prince?

Kaelen.

The name echoed in her mind like a forgotten melody. She didn’t know why it made her feel… something Uneasy and Curious at the same time?

“No,” she whispered to herself. “Focus on the witches. That’s what matters now.”

Back in the war room, she gathered her chosen team and laid out the map. “We’ll enter from the south,we need to be close and together. And if anything feels wrong we pull back.” Her tone was sharp, and they nodded without question.

Just as she was picking her sword, a scout rushed in. “A message for you, my lady,” he said, handing over a scroll with black wax.

Lyra broke the seal and unrolled it. Her breath caught.

“Meet me at the old border stones. The truth waits there.”

That was all it said.

She stared at the words for a long time. Her heart thumped louder. She didn’t know who sent it. But something felt fishy and she needed to go and check by herself . It might help her if it's sent by someone from their kingdom..

She looked at her warriors. They were tired but loyal. She folded the scroll and tucked it inside her armor.

“Tomorrow,” she said firmly, “we hunt down the witches.”

She paused… then added, “But first, I need to find out who sent this.”

The wind flows softly as night starts . The torchlight flickered across her face as she stepped into the shadows, not knowing that the truth waiting at the border stones was about to shake everything she believed about the dragons, the curse, and herself.

The sun had dipped below the mountains, painting the sky in shades of purple and gold. Night had settled gently over the kingdom, bringing with it a sense of calm and peace that hadn’t been felt in years. After the long war, after all the bloodshed and destruction, it felt like the land could finally breathe again.

Lyra stood on the high terrace of the castle, looking out over her homeland. Lanterns glowed softly across the village roads, laughter and music floated in the wind. The people were celebrating. Children ran barefoot through the streets, old women hung ribbons on trees, and shopkeepers handed out free sweets to passing families. Her people were finally happy. And that happiness lit something inside her. As their queen, she had vowed to protect them. No matter what the future held, she would never let darkness fall over her kingdom again.

She stepped away from the balcony and walked down the stone steps, her long cloak brushing the grass. Something tugged at her heart a soft, strange pull that led her toward the edge of the forest. The air there was cooler, quieter. The trees whispered secrets only the night could hear.

As she walked deeper into the woods, she noticed a dim light flickering from a small hut hidden among the trees. Then she heard it.

A soft, broken sob.

Lyra froze.

It wasn’t the sound of a child or an animal, it was a woman. And not just any woman… It was a dragon. She could sense it. The energy, the warmth, the pain… it rolled through the air in waves.

Her feet moved faster, her instincts alert. As she neared the hut, the sobbing grew louder, raw and full of agony. Lyra pushed open the old wooden door without hesitation.

Inside, the air was heavy with heat and the scent of blood. A woman lay on a straw mattress, curled up and trembling, her hands clutching her swollen belly. She was in labor, alone, scared… and weak.

The woman’s eyes widened when she saw Lyra. She gasped and immediately tried to bow, even in her condition. “Y-Your Majesty…”

Lyra knelt beside her and caught her trembling hand. “Please, don’t bow. You need rest, not formality.”

Tears slipped down the woman’s cheeks. “I didn’t want anyone to know. My mate died in the war… I’ve been hiding. I had nowhere else to go.”

Lyra’s heart cracked at the sight. This was what the war had left behind widows, broken families, unborn children without fathers. She brushed the woman’s damp hair away from her forehead.

“You’re safe now,” Lyra whispered. “I’m here. You won’t be alone.”

The woman sobbed harder, her pain growing sharper with each passing minute. Outside, the night wind was chilly, carrying the sound of owls and rustling leaves. But inside, it was just the two of them, two dragon women connected by sorrow..

Lyra rolled up her sleeves and prepared to help. She wasn’t just a queen now. In this moment, she was a sister, a guardian.

As the labor pains came harder, Lyra supported the woman, giving her courage, wiping her sweat, whispering comforting words.

And somewhere in the shadows of the forest, something else stirred.

A figure stood at a distance, hidden in the dark. Watching.

Waiting.

Eyes glowing faint red beneath a hood. A smirk danced on the lips of someone who knew tonight was not just the birth of a child.