Chapter Nine: Ashes and Fire

 

Mia’s POV

The wind was colder above the clouds. It whipped against my face, carrying the scent of pine and smoke from the lands below. Sylvie’s massive wings cut through the sky with a rhythm that steadied my racing heart.

For the first time since the banquet, there was no shouting, no chains, no eyes watching us like prey. Just endless sky.

I pressed a hand to Sylvie’s scales, the silver heat pulsing faintly beneath my palm. 

You came back to me. The thought was almost too much to bear. For five years I had believed my dragon lost, like another piece of me stolen. And yet here she was, alive, real, carrying me once again.

Behind me, Orion shifted, his arm brushing lightly against my side to steady himself. Typically, he moved like he owned the dragon.

“Don’t squeeze so hard,” he called over the wind, his grin practically audible. “She won’t drop you unless she gets bored.”

“You don’t know her” I shot him a look over my shoulder. “If she drops anyone, it’ll be you.”

He only smirked wider, curls whipping across his forehead. “Fair. But admit it, Princess, you missed this.”

I turned back toward the horizon, refusing to answer. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

I let Orion’s laughter fade behind me and focused on the horizon. The clouds thinned, revealing forests that stretched like an endless green sea. Somewhere beyond those trees lay the Rogue Lands. 

Would they spit on me when I returned? Would they laugh, or bow, or bare their teeth?

A few days ago, I left a powerless princess with nothing but shame in my shadow. Now I was coming back with Sylvie beneath me, proof that the blood of the Rogue King still burned in my veins.

But even that wouldn’t erase the hatred. They had watched my father vanish. They had seen me sent away and Rogues never forgave weakness.

My fingers curled against Sylvie’s scales. They may hate me. But they will not ignore me.

A shiver ran down my spine, though I wasn’t sure if it was fear or anticipation.

Behind me, Orion hummed like this was just another game. As if he didn’t feel the weight of what waited for us.

Of course he didn’t. Orion Vale had been born with arrogance stitched into his bones. I had been born with a crown of ashes.

“You’re awfully quiet, Princess.”

Orion’s voice cut through the wind, lazy and amused, but I knew better. His questions always carried weight beneath the grin.

I didn’t answer right away. My eyes stayed on the horizon, on the dark line of forest creeping closer with every beat of Sylvie’s wings.

Finally, I said, “I was thinking about the Rogues.”

“Ah.” His tone shifted, just enough to make me glance back. His smirk was still there, but his eyes… sharper, more serious. “Planning your grand return? Going to give a speech about destiny, maybe?”

I narrowed my gaze. “You think this is a joke?”

He leaned forward, his breath brushing against my ear. “Everything’s a joke, until it isn’t.”

The words sank heavier than I expected.

I faced forward again. “They’ll hate me.” My hand pressed harder against Sylvie’s warm scales. “But they won’t ignore me. Not with her at my side.”

Orion hummed, tilting his head like he was weighing my conviction. Then, slowly, a grin tugged at his lips.

“Now that,” he said, “sounds like the Princess I could actually follow.”

Heat prickled at my neck, and I forced myself to roll my eyes. “Don’t flatter me, Vale. It doesn’t suit you.”

He chuckled low, and the sound tangled with the beating of Sylvie’s wings.

“There,” I breathed, pointing past Sylvie’s wing.

The forest broke, giving way to familiar stone walls and wooden rooftops scattered across the valley. My chest tightened. The Rogue settlement. My home.

But even as the word formed in my throat, something felt wrong.

Smoke curled into the sky, rising in ugly spirals.

I frowned. “That… that can’t be right.”

Orion leaned forward behind me, his arm brushing mine for balance. His grin faded. “That doesn’t look like dinner cooking, Princess.”

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “It can’t be…”

Sylvie shrieked, wings tilting as she descended. The closer we came, the stronger the stench of burnt timber mixed with blood hit.

My stomach knotted. My nails dug into Sylvie’s scales. Please, no. Not this.

We landed hard, ash spiraling around us in a choking haze.

I slid down first, my boots crunching over blackened earth and then I saw them.

Bodies….. Scattered like broken dolls. Rogues, warriors, even children. The homes I remembered were collapsed, walls charred and doors hanging loose. A place once wild and alive now silenced into ruin.

My throat closed. “No… no, no, no.”

Orion dismounted with less noise than usual, his eyes scanning the carnage. For once, he didn’t crack a joke. He just muttered low, his voice edged. “Looks like someone beat us here.”

I staggered forward, my chest hollow. “This was supposed to be my return. My people….” My voice broke. “What did they do to you?”

“Help… please…”

I spun, eyes darting toward the sound. From the shadows of a half-burned house, a small figure stumbled out. A child, barely ten, clothes torn, face smeared with soot and blood. His little arms reached out, trembling, his voice was weak but desperate.

“P-please…”

He staggered once, twice… and collapsed right at my feet.

Blood pooled fast, his tiny chest shuddering with shallow, ragged breaths. I dropped to my knees, hands hovering helplessly above him.

“I’m here,” I whispered, though the words felt hollow. My fingers pressed against his shoulder, desperate, useless. “I’m here.”

His glassy eyes found mine for a heartbeat. “Help…” he rasped again, softer this time, fading like a candle in the wind.

And then his body went limp.

I froze, the silence crushing me, my hands shaking over his still form.