Sixty One
Sixty One
Elora’s POV
We are the sacrifice, yet I felt no fear of death, felt nothing but complete faith in her words and a strong
urge to fulfil the prophecy, my grandmothers reassuring voice in my head, feel the whispers of my
ancestors washing over me like a breeze, the voices carried with it growing stronger, and louder filling
me and giving me, a sense of calm and I drop to my knees in front of her. She tips the goblet to my lips
and I drink from it, feel the magic in the blood bleeding into my soul changing it.
Claire places the goblet down on the small table before grabbing the dagger, I reach for her as she slits
her own throat, the dagger falling from her little hands as her body falls on top of me, Abigail’s blood
curdling scream, full of anguish and heartache filling the night. And I whisper the last be piece
“I Elora Aziza forgive the sins and right the wrongs of the past, for I shall fall, for the balance to be
restored, for we are reborn, and we shall rise” Grabbing the dagger, I feel the coldness of the blade as
it runs across my skin as cut my throat, my life’s blood spilling out of me. The screams of everybody
surrounding us, my eyes dart to Claire on my lap and the last sounds, I remember were the screams of
our loved ones, the whispers of our ancestors and my last dying breath.
Abigail’s POV
I watched horrified as my daughter slashed her throat, Elora watching, and I couldn’t decipher her
expression. Her life bleeding out of her and I scream. My soul shattering watching my precious little girl
so full of life just sacrifice herself without hesitation. Heart shattering and soul crushing pain destroying
me as I watch her skin pale, everything happening in the blink of an eye. Silas agonised scream and I
see the Dragon kings run toward them, Elora sacrificing herself, running the blade tarnished with my
daughters blood across her throat.
One by one the Dragon Kings fall to their knees, horrified at what she had done. I watch each one of
them fall, a deafening scream leaving each of them as they clutch theirs chests dropping dead along
with her. Murmurs from the crowd of shocked onlookers. None of the legends I had heard were like this
to break the curse on the Dragons. I should have known better, should have seen this, should have
went with my gut. This wasn’t the spell to break the curse on the Dragon’s. This was the spell to break
the curse on Fae.
Rushing to my daughter, I cradle her to my chest. My mother’s tormented scream coming from the
crowd as I hold her limp body in my arms. “Mama” I sob tears rolling down my face as she rushes over
clutching us. My little girl was gone, but why couldn’t I feel her death. I could see her dead in my arms,
yet I could still feel her energy with me. Still feel Elora’s and that of the dragon kings. The crowd goes
silent. Nobody knows what to do, or what they just witnessed.
We just watched the fall of the Dragon kings, the fall of a kingdom of horror. That’s when I first noticed
them. People in crowd dropping like flies, collapsing amongst those watching. Was this the end. Were
we all destined to die? My mother brushes my daughter’s hair from her face. The face of angel though
she didn’t look dead despite the blood covering her, no she looked at peace, asleep.
My mother gets up, turning Elora’s face toward her and I notice her Fae markings changing to a deeper
purple, blossoms spreading across her cheek and down her neck. Magic running rampant in her veins,
feel it growing stronger and I watch as the cut on her neck heals.
My mother rushes over to the Dragon kings kneeling next to them, they to were changing, the same
marking spreading like wildfire across their bare chests only red and angry.
“They are still warm,” My mother gasps.
“They’re not dead?” I whisper looking down at my daughter, shaking her slightly and rubbing her cheek,
the wound healing across her neck but not waking.
“Come on baby girl, come back to me. Come back to your mummy” I cry, praying to the fates that they
let her live. Suddenly I hear a gasp and watch as Elora snaps upright. Her eyes burning brightly,
brighter than any jewel I had ever seen. The crowd shocked at what they are witnessing before Elora
screams in agony. Clawing at her back, her skin gleaming and shimmering as she moves. Her screams
of agony moving through the crowd as they clutch their ears trying to drown the noise.
“Mum you need to remove her cloak” I tell her as I watch as Elora desperately tries but fails. My mother
moving toward Elora and removing it while Elora flailed around her nails digging into her back digging
at something she could only feel, her skin bleeding from her nails tearing her flesh. When I hear
groaning my eyes snapping in the direction of the dragon kings as they get to hands and knees before
their eyes dart to her.
“Elora” Silas breathes before stumbling over himself to get to her, only for him to be pulled back by
Matitus and Dragus just in time for everyone to be hit with a wave of power, Elora’s scream of agony NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.
knocking the breath out of everyone as we are swallowed by blinding light.
My eyes burning in my head, forcing me to close my eyes under its harshness before the darkness
returns and I hear voices of shock and awe making my eyes open. Elora doubled over on the ground
panting blood pouring from her back but that wasn’t why everyone was amazed. It was the wings; Fae
haven’t had wings since before the war. Only the true heir of the thrown and those of the royal bloodline
had wings. They were magnificent, crystal clear, the moonlight making them shimmer, like trying to look
at the rainbow within a bubble. Elora stands up and I can see the shock on her face, she doesn’t
understand what is going on, doesn’t understand how she is alive as she looks out at the crowd.
“Mummy” I hear the softest of murmurs and my heart swells as I look down and see my angel, looking
back up me.
“Yes, baby I am here, mummy is here” I tell her and her eyes flutter before turning white, a sight I know
is her visions, her seeing the future. One I would never become familiar with seeing. My daughter was
not just blessed with the visions but cursed, and over the three years of her life they have made her
have many sleepless nights tormented her dreams.
“The Queen of Draquin has been reborn” She whispers before passing out in my arms, the rise and fall
of her chest reminding me she was alive, she would live but it was to much on her little body.
**Author Note**
Let me know what you think. What the Dragon Kings do when they realise the curse hasn't been
broken.