Princess of Fire: An Excerpt
Right before the start of the pandemic, in January 2020, I started writing a novel (which at the time, had a completely different title that I don't remember). Once the pandemic hit, I continued writing from home. Over the following months, I wrote every week, sometimes reaching nightly word counts of around 3000 words. Nearly a year later, on December 11th, 2020, I published my novel, Princess of Fire. The following is an excerpt from its first chapter.
Aruna’s smaller neighbors to the east seemed to fare far less numerous and far less savage dragon raids in comparison to the comfortable and wealthy Aruna. The Arunians suspected this was due to Aruna’s size and availability of fresh meats that the dragons loved. Costs to repair the village after every dragon raid kept Aruna’s status as the largest village in the far region just out of reach. The thatch hut roofs were not exactly fireproof, and there was a great market for the hay used to rebuild them. Usually, at least a few villagers were lost to dragon attacks each year. Horses were stolen from the stables in the dead of the night, and their bones were usually found dumped somewhere in the next week.
Mighty beasts they were; dragons seemed to live forever, although no one was certain because hardly anyone survived to witness one head-on. Their powerful, leathery wings could carry them for a hundred leagues, and their razor-sharp teeth and claws made them the perfect beings for the kill. Their scales were solid and tough, as evident of bent swords and axes left behind when dragons claimed their victims. They loved the kill, too. Dragon roars sparked fear into even the toughest of men. Distinct tales of Aruna note the time that a particularly savage dragon sat atop a house raging with dragonfire as it roared to its kin while they raided the village.
The dragons were led by a mysterious figure. The older adults recalled a time when this being did not exist, and the dragons were peaceful. They remembered a time where the dragons would only be seen flying far above, or in the leftover carcass of a deer caught out of its luck, its body stripped of good meat and humming with flies. That time was gone.
The villagers of Aruna, frightened in their powerless human nature, decided to give a name to this person, this god of sorts, for fear can only be rationalized when it has a name.
Thus came the rise of the Dragon King.