Bifyre

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley”, Areya read aloud, crumpling up the insulting note, before turning toward the room of councillors seated in oak thrones before her. The sun was almost setting and purple twilight splintered through the cracked windows of the throne room.

“We’ve had worse threats”, she parried, sweeping a braid of gold behind her back, and taking a seat in her own copper throne, focussing her scarlet eyes on the largest member of the congregation. He was all flesh, beard and concern.

“With all due respect-” he began,

“-a phrase someone says before omitting all respect from their words” she continued.

“-Areya,”

“Queen Areya, still, thank you Sir Tomas.”

Tomas marked the subtle change in Areya’s eyes, flashing briefly from scarlet to ice, and back again. He knew he needed to be more careful with his words.

“Apologies, Majesty. All I meant to add, is that that we believe the note was sent from the Sirenia, who still hold offence to your marriage.”

Queen Areya laughed a single golden note and waved a pale hand at his words, before addressing an elder who was scribing every word with an elaborate quill.

“Do you believe the note is warranted, Sir Atlas?”

Atlas took a deep breath and the movement made the stitched coins in his beard clink together like a rainmaker. He was lost in thought for a moment, making quick eye contact with the queen to check her eye colour before beginning.

“The shunning of Princess Oceaca, for yourself Majesty, was an understandable choice for the king to make” he smiled gently and Areya sat up a little straighter at his words, pleased with his flattery, ‘however the use of such a slur, I believe, is unforgivable.”

“Wise council” Areya retorted. “The house of Lizeria won’t hear that word.” She spat once onto the marble floor, and marked how the knights avoided looking down.

“It is truly dishonourable to resort to such insult, Majesty” Sir Tomas injected, before rising from his seat to bring Areya a second bundle of scrolls. He looked around at the other nights, and a single line of concern formed upon his forehead.

“However, I’m afraid there are more.”

Areya lifted a single arched eyebrow as the knight approached, “more concerns from our aquatic friends?”

“Unfortunately the house of Centauri and Phoenicia have met with Sirenia to discuss a movement against the Valley, against the King's Land. They claim to have concerns about their new queen.” Tomas surmised, quickly repeating the news before moving back to his seat, as though he could quell an incoming storm through speed alone.

Fury rose sharply in Areya’s throat as she unfurled the first scroll, then the second, before sweeping them all to the floor and rising to her feet.

“Insolence. I will not have it.” She hissed, rage dripping from her words while she felt a cool pull in the back of her head, signaling that her eyes were now the colour of ice. She’d always felt more at home in her frozen form, and believed that true anger was white.

The other knights rose from their seats, and she noticed, darkly, that automatically one of the knight’s hands fell to the sword at his waist.

“You mean to harm the Queen, Sir Canna?” Areya questioned, and all blood fell from his face as he realised his actions.

“No, My Queen, my majesty, it was purely-”

“I marry into the house of the kings, and sit here as your Queen-” Areya began, but she knew that this time the fury was too great; the final domino in her mind had been struck and the cascade was about to begin.

Bring it on.

Canna was on his feet, looking around wordlessly at the other knights who avoided his gaze, transfixed on their Queen, and her impending dark transformation.

“I sit here, a true descendent of the house of Lizeria, a true Bifyre, and you dare to think of raising a weapon to me?” She laughed coldly, and her skin began to change, deepening, darkening, moving from a porcelain to midnight black, scaled and deadly.

“The house of Sirenia- not a mermaid among them, nor a centaur from the Centauri, and phoenixes have all been extinct for centuries; yet you listen to their words, and believe that I, rightful heir to the throne of the Pactlands could be brought down by mere steel?”

They were gaping at her now, as her body stretched, lengthened and twisted.

Areya chuckled, and removed the golden bands from her wrists, shrugged out of her gauzy dress and placed her crown on the ruby cushion of the throne. There wasn’t much time now. The blood of her ancestors was pulling her into her true form.

“No majesty, I pledge allegiance, my sword is for you and you alone, I of course am a follower of the Bifyre; true Queen of the Pactlands-”

“Your words are useless now, Sir Canna, step forth” but Areya’s voice was no longer her own, it had darkened in the moments her body had beome the dragon's, pushing out membranous wings from punctures deep in her back, while fangs curled beneath crimson lips. Her thick tail swept behind her, scratching the windows while her horns spiralled to the ceiling. Her braids were gone now, and all that remained of the golden queen from a moment before were her frozen eyes, fixed forward and staring hungrily at the knight who had offended her.

It was grotesque and glorious, and Areya basked in the beauty of her true form. She marvelled at how they looked at her now; not before a woman, but before a beast. The irony that it took shedding of her human flesh, shedding of her womanhood before men would grant her reverence.

“Please, Majesty, please! I did not mean offence!”

“As I’m certain the movements of lesser houses also don’t mean to” she spat again in mockery, but this time the liquid froze as it hit the floor, standing like tiny stalagmites against the marble.

Sir Canna kneeled before her, tears freely flowing from his eyes now, and he knew she was about to offer him the last choice he’d ever be able to make.

“Fire, or Ice?” Areya said in her dark voice, her eyes changing from scarlet to aquamarine as if showcasing the menu.

Sir Tomas was openly weeping now, the rest of the room standing transfixed in horror at the image of the fallen knight and the Dragon Queen.

Sir Canna smiled simply towards Areya, a moment of clarity before the end, “Some say the world will end in fire, some in ice” he mumbled.

Queen Areya’s mouth curled up in disgust, “what is your choice, traitor?”

“I hope you fall on the Black Sword; the one you don’t believe is out there, dragon” and he spat in her face, smiling a dark grimace.

It was the last movement Sir Canna ever made as his face was consumed with fire, Areya’s scarlet eyes both burning with a furious flame, and filled with tears.