Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or anything familiar you read here.
Author: Paige Turner.
Summary: AU. A/B. R/Em. E/J. Es/C. An all out war between vampires, shape shifters, and…what?
It is said that long ago before the coming of the New World, there ruled a powerful woman. The entire European continent was under her domain, her palace twice the size of any apartment building you would see nowadays. She was known far and wide, not only for her beauty, but her knowledge, her compassion, and most of all, her title. The one title of the time that could strike inspiration into your heart, or terror, depending on how the woman viewed you.
The Dragon Queen.
The legends that followed the Dragon Queen around were awe-worthy; mysterious and dangerous. Many said that she earned her title as the Dragon Queen after her elite guards killed the Mighty Drake that resided in the cliffs above her palace, and she she took the smallest sip of its blood, the immortal taint running through her veins. Others say she, herself, was the Drake, able to change her form to scorch the very skin of her enemies. Some even ventured the idea that she was born from the womb of a dragon.
The Dragon Queen had never denied any of these stories, though she never acknowledged them as truth either. Preferring to forever remain as a mystery to her people.
For years and years she had ruled, keeping peace in her lands, preventing war and poverty. But soon a new species reared its head; the Vampires. Jealous of the Dragon Queen's power and the adoration she received from the humans, the vampires rebelled. In their eyes, they were on top of the power pyramid. Their skin harder than the toughest stones, their beauty rivalling the even Queen's, their speed trumping any animal, and the fact that they truly appeared to be immortal, never aging.
The battle lasted just a few years, the Queen's guard consisting of only mere humans. It was a gruesome, bloody battle that tore at the Queen's heart every day, one she wasn't confident they would win.
A scream resonated down the stone hallways, shaking the very walls of the palace. The tall brunette paced her tower room, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Her skin was fair and pale, almost reflecting the light of the moon shining in through he window, her lips red as blood, her hair cascading down her back in rich mahogany locks. Her eyes were not far off in colour, deep chocolate pools.
The large oak doors to her room burst open, a taller, lanky boy running in. His hair was dripping with sweat, hanging down in his dark, frantic eyes that swept across the room to meet the Queen's. He bowed low, gazing at the stone floor for a few seconds before raising to meet the chocolate brown eyes. "My-my Queen - they've breeched the south gates."
The Queen took in the young face under all that hair, ignoring the crimson liquid running from one of the eyebrows. He couldn't have been more than fifteen years of age. She pursed her lips, taking in his quivering arm that held the large blade, his knuckles and fingers tight around the grip; bone white. Her heart ached as she walked over to him, using her thumb to wipe the blood from above his eye, her smile warm. The boy visibly relaxed. "Do you have siblings?" She asked, her voice light and soft; strange for such a powerful woman.
Nodding furiously, the boy shook off fatigue. "Yes, three younger sisters and an older brother. They're all with my mother, father and Will are out at the docs for the annual fishing trip," He replied.
"Go." She said, stepping back again, gently taking the long sword from his hand. "Gather your kin and head to the docs. Leave now and take my horse from the stable, he is swift and will get you to where you need to go."
He went to object but one sweet smile from the Dragone Queen and his resolve crumbled. "Thank you," He said, his voice brimming with emotion. "Thank you, my Queen."
She watched him jog back down the hall, turning to look out her window. Bodies, flame, smoke, and screaming filled her courtyard. Would this nightmare never end?
Within the final days of the war, the Queen's personal body guard had sent for help. He could not win the war for his Queen, but he could fulfil his duty. He could protect and save her.
And so he brought in alleged Witch after Witch. There was no being more magical than this woman; surely more magic could save her. But each time his hope was crushed as person after person failed to do what they had claimed they could. He had been about ready to hoist the stubborn Queen, who refused to leave her people to perish, over his shoulder and carry her off to safety. If the woman would refuse to see reason, refuse his logic of how she could rebuild her empire and start fresh, then he would refuse to listen to her wishes of fighting the final battle.
No one knows exactly where the Witch came from. No one knew her name, no one recognized her from town, no one could even recall her in history after that night.
But in the wee hours of one morning, the girl walked in through the palace's front doors, up to the very top of the tower, and into the room without knocking.
The Dragon Queen had never seen such an…odd person in her life. This young girl who stood before her was an anomaly. Her garments made of animal skins, dark and fashioned in styles beyond their time. Her hair, white as freshly fallen snow, up in a knot at the back of her head, with sticks through it. Her eyes were like the clear ponds out in the Queen's garden, her nails the colour of the sun. Her fingers were covered in silver jewellery, all clinking together as they moved, scarves of all colours hanging around her neck.
The odd girl's lips curved upwards as she greeted the Queen and her body guard. "Hello, my Dragon Queen. I'm here to save you."
Somehow the Queen was talked into agreeing. Promises of seeking revenge for her people. Of living another day to do something for them.
So the three set off into the cliffs above the palace, finding a cave entrance in the side. It was a narrow path, winding farther and farther into the cliff. A day's journey until they reached the middle; a giant pocket.
"Ancient and eternal as the stone around you shall you stay, until you are needed once again in a different time, a different day," The Witch recited, mixing together a fine dust in an old bowl. She looked up into the eyes of the Queen and her guard, silently asking one last time if this was truly what they wished. With a final nod from each, she took a pinch of dust, walking over to the faithful guard, focusing as she sprinkled it over him.
With a shocked gasp, the guard looked down, watching as the stone around his feet began to shift and grow. Mere moments later did it cover his legs, all the way up to his waist.
The Queen kept her eyes closed until she was sure it was over, looking into the stone face of her one true friend. "I shall join you soon, old friend," she murmured. Then she turned back to the Witch. "I…I do not want us to be unprotected while we are…stone. I do not want all of this to have been for nothing."
"What did you have in mind, my Queen?" The Witch asked, sensing the magic stirring within the brunette.
With a smile, the Queen cupped her hands in front of her mouth, slowly blowing into them. With fascination, the Witch watched as orange flames grew and flickered from the Queen's palms. "The Dragon's Breath has never ceased to provide protection." She said, flicking her fingers.
Four flames fell to the floor, dancing around as they grew and grew until they were as tall as the Witch herself. They took on shapes, smooth curves, long limbs, and the Witch was sure she saw a face. Daughters of Flame dancing around their mother.
Nodding to herself, the Witch approached the Queen, taking a pinch of dust. "Perhaps we shall meet again." She said, letting the slight breeze carry the dust into the Queen.
Soon the cave became silent, the only motion was the Dancing Daughters whom the Witch watched for many hours. Finally, she took the bowl of dust, smiling sadly at the flames. "I'm afraid you shall share the fate of your mother; forever to be stone until the day comes that she calls or you are needed."
With a heave, the Witch launched the bowl of dust into the air, watching it rain down on all four flames. And perhaps if she hadn't fled to miss the dust, she would have seen one Daughter flicker bright blue, before they all, too, turned to stone.
Bright in the sky, lighting up all the land below, the sun sat for hours. It was only when the ball of heat finally fell past the horizon and the world was bathed in darkness, did the most unthinkable happen.
The cave was still and silent, nothing but the echoes of wind running through it. But soon the silence was shattered by a creak, something straining under pressure. Moments passed before it turned into a crack and chip.
With an explosion of stone and screaming, one of the Daughters of Flame crumbled. Only it was not flame that escaped the stone casing, but a body.
She screamed and screamed, her body falling to the cold floor of the cave, her eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched. It seemed hours before the screaming stopped, her voice rough and gravely. A girl lay on the floor, her skin pale like the moon, steaming rising from it. With weak, never-before-used limbs, she pushed herself to her feet, squinting her eyes. They were an intense blue, one you wouldn't find on the colour spectrum, though the colour itself was closest to the blue at the base of a flame. Another explosion of flame were behind the pupils, reaching out and flickering to the very edges of the irises until they settled once more, down within the pupil. Her hair was long and straight, falling low down her back, dark as the starless night sky, with splashes of that same intense blue.
One odd, or rather odder, thing about the girl, was that her torso had markings, black like the ink from scrolls and papers, all in the shape of a grand dragon, around from her back, reaching to her abs.
Confused, she looked around herself, taking in the stone statues. She felt something flutter in her chest and brushed her fingers against the cool stone of the faces. Something… was missing. She felt like she needed to remember something. To know or do something. These statues… were they important?
With great reluctance, the girl once more touched each of the stone faces, pausing at the biggest. He was obviously male, his features chiseled and strong. Like all the rest, he was completely stone, from head to toe. But there was one difference. The long sword in its case, strapped to his back. Stone did not encase it like it did the smaller one at his hip. Instead, the sword seemed to sit atop the stone, ready and waiting for her to take. And so she did, slipping the strap over her bare shoulder, feeling the weight of it on her back, and headed for the cave entrance, following that narrow, winding path.
Re-uploading this and other chapters. I'm going through for the mistakes and tweaking/changing a few things here and there.