Page 1 of To Fight and To Fold

PROLOGUE

Don’t be late.

The one rule Aaryn had given herself this morning, and she’d already broken it.

Bent at most, she reasoned with herself. She was only a handful of minutes behind, and making up for it with every step slapped into the wet earth.

Rain poured from the sky in sheets so thick she struggled to lift her face to make sure she was taking the correct path. Despite the clouds blocking the sun, it was still so white and bright that the sight struck with all the gentleness of distant thunder. Her head ached.

Her long pink hair, which had been carefully braided, was ruined, smacking against her back with her movement, each plop felt within the depths of her skull.

Her threadbare shoes offered little protection, soaked within just a few steps outside of their meager hutch in the hills as she slipped and skidded her way to the bottom.

Her breath came in great puffs as she sprinted, skirts sticking to her thighs and calves.

The rain was what had awoken her.

She never slept past the sunrise, but of course today would be the day that a migraine would hit, that the barrier of even her thin blankets would be a blessing she couldn't indulge in.

Clutching her skirts, she ran through fields where once she would’ve stopped to pick flowers, and instead splashed through the gathering puddles.

She needed to look her best, after all.

A sad scoff left her lips.

She was drenched head to toe, and as lightning struck across the sky, so too did the pain through her temple.

With a stubborn grunt she pressed her soles harder into the mud and rain, eventually finding cobblestones beneath her heels.

“Apologies!” she shouted behind her as she raced through the market, dodging women and men in clothes that appeared more lavish and beautiful the closer she grew to the castle.

“You’re not gonna win the lottery anyway, girl!” someone shouted behind her.

Aaryn shook her head, refusing to allow the thought any room in her mind.

This lottery was her only hope.

She did not relish the remaining options her mother had presented to her.

“It’s been moved inside,” another voice called out to her.

Aaryn’s heart sank, lungs burning as her fingers curled into a fist, and she veered, aiming not for the main entrance to the castle, but the cathedral.

She hated to grace its beauty with her… herself, but she had no other choice.

Her hope began to dwindle as the spires of the church came into view, the stairs and walkway empty.

The crowd was already inside, the doors closed. Had they already begun the ritual? Were they not accepting any more entries?

She slid to a stop just at the bottom of the stairs, noticing a few guards keeping watch.

They were standing tall as they loomed at the top, but their intimidation was no match for the stone dragons amongst the spires of the cathedral glaring down at her. Daring her to enter.

Her steps faltered at the base of the marble stairs, rain striking her cheeks as she gazed up, lost. The crimson of the stained glass bled their history, depicting dragons and battle and loss and sacrifice.

She took a step forward, and lightning struck. The clouds above the deadly spires flickered with it, and Aaryn could have sworn she saw the Great Dragon in the gloomy shapes for just a moment, heard his roar in the thunder echoing close behind.

With her next step she imagined she felt his strength guiding her, a whisper of magic that no longer existed.