My baby daughter is a dragon

The old castle was already in near darkness, illuminated by reluctant rays of the afternoon sun and an early moon shining in a sky between orange and violet. A knight ran through the corridors, the metal of his greaves against the stone floor was the only sound since, moments before, he had slain the dragon that jealously guarded it. He headed for the imposing throne room, where he expected to find nothing less than the king of dragons. He stood before the entrance, sweating; he could turn back, seek his soldiers, ask for support, or he could...

The hero burst into the room, throwing open the gigantic door of orichalcum and gold. The moonlight entered dimly, barely illuminating the silhouettes of the objects, framing them in an ethereal aura without fully defining them. He looked around, advancing one step at a time. The king was too big to hide there, but, as he had just learned, dragons had many tricks.

The numerous torches lit up in unison, blinding the lone hero, who covered his eyes, fearing an ambush. He did not wish to fall victim to a vile trick after having come so far, but when his eyes adjusted to the light, what he saw bewildered him more than any trap could have.

On the throne, a golden chair of gigantic size, slept a little girl no more than five years old, dressed in a finely cut dress of clean and well-maintained lace. The hero had only seen something like it among the princesses of the major kingdoms. Her perfectly combed pink hair with small braids framed her face with chubby, rosy cheeks. She could only be a little princess, until you noticed the tiny horns on her head and that her dress had been cut to allow for the passage of incipient wings covered in beautiful blue scales with iridescent sparkles. The little girl was of a beauty that equaled her monstrosity. She breathed ephemeral flames that did not harm or blacken her immaculate face.

"What is happening here? Where is the dragon king?" The knight managed to say, sword in hand, scrutinizing every corner of the room.

The little girl woke up, rubbing her eyes with tender little hands covered in white satin gloves. She looked around until she noticed the hero's presence.

"Sir," she said in a sweet and polite voice, but with those typical difficulties of early childhood, "are you the hero? Did you come to hurt me?"

"I... no," he replied uncertainly, "I came to find the dragon king."

"I am the dragon queen, that's what the man at the door says. He says that if the hero comes, he will hurt me and I must offer him half the world to save my life." She recited the words as if from memory, not seeming to fully understand what she was saying.

"You? And your parents?" The questions came out instinctively.

"I don't know, the man at the door says I came out of that egg over there, and that my mommy was in this room." The hero looked towards a corner she was pointing to, where he noticed the dry bones lying next to the remains of a shell, between golden and iridescent. "He always says silly things. Where is he?"

The man at the door was most likely the dragon he had killed minutes before. He had been an old and strange man dressed like the servants in castles, until he transformed into a grayish dragon whose body now lay curled up in the castle courtyard.

"The man at the door is gone, he says he no longer needs to take care of you..." He lied without thinking about what he was implying with his words.

The girl's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Then," the little girl jumped off the throne with all the agility her short legs allowed, and threw herself at him, hugging his legs, "you're my daddy! You came back for me!"

Of course, that man surely told her that one day her father would come back for her, the hero thought, but if he left something as important as his own daughter... where was he?

"No, little one, I'm not your daddy, and I didn't come to hurt you either."

"Oh, that's bad." A tear appeared in her bright blue eyes, just before composing herself as if by magic. "Hey, do you want half the world? If I give it to you, would you take care of me? I didn't like the man at the door, he was old and rude. You're better, you're kind, you seem fun."

What could he do? This girl was a defenseless being, not to mention adorable, but if she truly was the daughter of the Dragon King, she would eventually become the greatest threat to world peace. He remained silent, long enough for the smile on her face to fade out.

"So you're not interested?" Her big eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to be alone."

The hero let out a resigned sigh. He didn't have the heart to hurt her, he never would. Although he himself didn't know what to do, maybe Runaesthera would have an idea.

"Okay, I'll take care of you." "For now," he thought as he saw the light of a smile return to the girl's face. "My name is Freydelhart."

"Fff... fey... feljar." The little dragon girl tried, but simply couldn't pronounce it.

"You can call me Frey. Do you have a name?"

The sound that came out of the little girl's mouth was between a roar and a thunderclap. A flame accompanied the sound. When it ended, only a mischievous smile remained on her round face.

"Do you mind if I call you something else?"

"I like Eri. It's a pretty sound," she said with a little jump, smiling.

"Does it mean anything?"

"I don't know." She looked at him with wide eyes, a finger on her chin...

"I guess it doesn't matter. Nice to meet you, Eri."

"Nice to meet you, Daddy Frey."

"I'm not your daddy, I already told you."

"But it's a prettier sound. If you can call me Eri, I can call you whatever I want." The little girl spoke stubbornly, and Frey had no choice but to give in. "Do you want half the world?"

Frey chuckled a little before nodding amusedly. Eri then took a piece of coal from a worn-out torch and began to draw a line on the floor from one corner of the throne room to the other, taking great care to divide it in half as accurately as possible, even though it undulated like lines drawn by children often do. When she finished, she shook her little hands in satisfaction, although she had ruined her gloves.

“You can have that half, you get the nice armchair, but I’ll keep the bed and my toys.”

It was to be expected; a furtive tear escaped from Frey’s eye, running down the middle of his tired cheek, ending in his dirty glove which left a stain on his face. How small the world seemed for someone who lived in solitude. He knelt down to speak to her at eye level, pretending to bow to someone who had offered him great honor.

“Eri, thank you for your generosity. In return, I want to take you to see another world, a very big one, with a beautiful castle.”

“What’s a castle?” Apparently, you don’t know the fish if you’ve lived in its belly, goddess of peace, what was he going to do with her? Well, first, take her to Runaesthera; she always thought of something.

The hero led the little girl out of the doors of that room for the first time, and then out of the tower, taking a wide turn to avoid the courtyard where the dragon’s body still lay. Until, on the shoulders of the man she didn’t know, Eri experienced the wonder of seeing Meyrin Castle, where she had actually lived her whole life. Soon it would once more be the home of the royal family, exiled years ago by the dragon king.

They descended the mountain on Frey’s horse; Eri wanted to see everything—she was fascinated by the clouds, the trees, the rocks. Dragon or not, she was a little girl who marveled at everything; Frey thought about how long she must have been isolated in that room and decided to be patient, answering the thousand questions she asked during the short journey to the camp.

They arrived at dusk, Eri had fallen into a deep sleep. Frey had used his cloak to gently tie her to his waist so she wouldn’t fall. They entered a military camp with dozens of tents; soldiers bustled about as if preparing for something important. A woman with bronzed skin, tanned like the elves of Artemia, and bright pink hair, dressed in travel clothes and a red hood, ran toward them as soon as she saw them coming. She caught up with them while Frey dismounted and was still facing away.

“Why did you go alone, you dwarf goblin? Why did we spend months gathering an army if you were going to play the brave, you orc?” She always hurled those childish insults at him when she was annoyed. Slowly, he turned around with the sleeping child wrapped in the cloak.

“Runa, Runa, calm down, please. We went exploring with Jimmer; we found the castle empty. He went back to warn you, and I went in to explore. I found only one dragon, and I was able to kill it. The king wasn’t there, but lower your voice; the little one is asleep.”

Runa’s anger subsided enough for her to notice the bundle Frey was carrying in his arms. With as much speed as care, she snatched it from him.

“Where did you get this little thing?” Her tone had softened considerably with the child in her arms; she looked like a child with a new doll.

“Look closely, Runa. This precious little girl is the dragon king’s daughter. She has been locked in the throne room since her birth.” He explained as best he could.

“So, it’s true they take human form? Oh, Goddess, she’s beautiful. Look at that face.” Her tone had become much gentler with the child in her arms; it was the most maternal scene Frey had ever witnessed from her or any woman.

“Freydelhart, can’t you see? She’s like a gift from the goddess, an opportunity.” Eri opened her huge, crystal-clear eyes, looking around. Apparently, their voices had risen, and they woke her.

“Papa Frey, is she the woman who knows many things? She’s very pretty.” Frey had told her about Runaesthera during the journey, as much of what he knew, she had taught him.

Runaesthera’s face turned as red as if her hood’s shadow were the same color as the hood itself.

“Did you talk her about me? And she calls you Papa? And you still ask me silly questions?” She spoke in hushed tones, cradling and rocking Eri naturally, as if she didn’t weigh on her delicate arms. The scene was the most maternal Frey had seen from her.

“Runa… What are we going to do? She’s a dragon, but she’s so innocent. She doesn’t deserve to be abandoned… or worse.”

"Ah, Eri. She is Runaesthera Verrin der Artemia, princess of the kingdom of Artemia, and also..." Frey seemed to choke on the words, "she is my..."

"And I'm also his fiancée," Runa interrupted in a stern tone. The look she gave the knight made him sweat more than the entire journey down the mountain.

"I don't understand anything. What's a kingdom? What's a fiancée? Is it like a mom?" She looked at them alternately, as if directing the question to the first one to answer.

"Sometimes," Runa said through her teeth. "It means Papa Frey and I are getting married soon. To marry is what a man and a woman should do before becoming dads and moms."

Eri's eyes widened.

"If you get married, can you be my dad and my mom?"

They looked at each other. To Runa's disappointment, she was the one who finally broke the silence.

"Of course, little Eri."