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The Dragon keepsake

Sometimes, God has chosen the right path for you, but you go against it... ~~ Isabel was a commoner living in the village of the kingdom of Valaraeth, a place where dragons roamed the skies, high and mighty. These untouchable heavenly beings could only be ridden by the royal family and nobles. "Is it not unfair?" she would muse, her pretty eyes shining with awe and enthusiasm whenever she saw a dragon flying over her village. She yearned to be with them, to touch them, and to ride across the beautiful world on their backs. Her dream came true when she discovered she was a royal—the youngest daughter of the King of Valaraeth. But every pretty dream came with a price, one she neglected to consider in her hopeful reverie. Taken to the palace, Isabel's life seemed perfect: beautiful dresses, elder royal siblings, and a loving queen mother. But the facade shattered when she learned the truth—their cruel and twisted personalities lay hidden beneath their beautiful masks. Every member of the royal family had a dragon bonded to them by blood in childhood. Her dragon was the youngest of the Emberstorm clan, an ancient lineage of fire dragons. Isabel was the first in a hundred centuries to be chosen by a fire dragon, sparking jealousy and hatred from everyone. ~~~ **Excerpt:** "I, Scorvius Drá Ashéncrest XII, Sovereign of Valaraeth, hereby sever all ties between the 7th Princess Isabel Drá Ashéncrest of Valaraeth and the esteemed lineage of Ashéncrest. Let it be known across our realm that she stands alone, stripped of her birthright, for she has committed an unforgivable sin—the slaying of her own dragon, the last dragon of the proud Emberstorm lineage." With solemn resolve, the king decreed her fate, yet Isabel remained unmoved. Her thoughts were consumed by the haunting memory of her dragon's final breath. She found herself thrust upon the platform of condemnation, judged in the unforgiving gaze of the assembled court, denied the chance to plead her case or offer explanation.

Violet_Melody99 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
26 Chs

"Cheerfull Isabel (03).."

Isabel's eyes widened in realization. "So, the flowers are helping people, even after they leave our garden?"

"Exactly," her grandfather said, nodding. "And don't worry, the garden will never be empty. New flowers will grow in their place, just as beautiful as the ones we gather. It's a cycle, like the stories of old. Life continues, and with each new bloom, our land stays vibrant and full of life."

Isabel smiled, feeling reassured. "I understand, Grandpa. I'll help you with the flowers, then."

Thomas's face lit up with pride. "That's my girl. Your help means a lot to me."

Together, they carefully loaded the rest of the flowers onto the cart, Isabel taking special care with each delicate bloom. As they worked, her grandfather told her more stories about the kingdom, about how the flowers played a role in the magic and life of Valaraeth.

Once the cart was full, Thomas took the reins, and Isabel skipped alongside him as they made their way to the market. The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a golden glow over the fields. Isabel felt a sense of pride in her little heart.

As Thomas and Isabel arrived at the bustling market, they carefully set up their stall, arranging the spiritual flowers in neat, colorful displays. The vibrant blooms attracted attention from passersby, their iridescent petals shimmering in the sunlight.

Isabel watched in awe as people began to gather around their stall. It was her first time experiencing the market, and the sights, sounds, and scents filled her with excitement.

"Welcome, welcome," Thomas greeted warmly as familiar faces approached. "We have fresh spiritual flowers, perfect for potions and remedies."

An elderly woman with kind eyes and a basket on her arm stepped forward. "Good morning, Thomas. I see you have a wonderful selection today."

"Thank you, Mrs. Thorne," Thomas replied, selecting a particularly beautiful bundle of flowers. "These just bloomed yesterday. They're full of magical energy."

Mrs. Thorne smiled as she handed over a few coins. "I'll take these. They're perfect for my healing salves."

As Thomas wrapped the flowers, another regular customer, Mr. Grayson, approached with a curious look on his face. "Thomas, who's this young lady helping you today?"

Thomas glanced down at Isabel, who was shyly standing by his side. "This is my granddaughter, Isabel. She's decided to help me at the market today."

Isabel gave a small wave, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of pride and nervousness. "Hello."

Mr. Grayson smiled warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Isabel. You're quite the helper, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," Isabel replied, her confidence growing. "I helped Grandpa gather the flowers this morning."

A few other customers, intrigued by the presence of the young girl, came over to introduce themselves. "We've never seen you at the market before, Isabel. Are you enjoying it?" asked Mrs. Thorne.

Isabel nodded enthusiastically. "It's so much fun! And I love the flowers. Grandpa says they're special and help people."

"He's right about that," Mrs. Thorne said, her eyes twinkling. "These flowers have healing properties. You're learning a valuable skill, young lady."

As the morning passed, more and more customers came to the stall, drawn by the beauty of the flowers and the charm of the new helper. Isabel's shyness faded as she chatted with the market-goers, her cheerful spirit winning their hearts.

A young woman named Elara, who was known for her herbal remedies, purchased a large bundle of flowers. "These are perfect for my new potion. Thank you, Thomas. And it's lovely to meet you, Isabel."

Isabel beamed. "I'm happy to help. Grandpa told me how important these flowers are."

"They are indeed," Elara said with a smile. "And it's wonderful to see the next generation taking an interest in our traditions."

Elara's interest piqued by Isabel's enthusiasm. "Isabel," she called softly, "could you help me with something? I need some flowers to reduce fever. Do you know which ones might work?"

Isabel's eyes lit up with determination. "I can try, Aunt Elara. Just wait here!"

She dashed off to the other side of the stall where the various flowers were displayed. Isabel carefully examined the blooms, her small fingers gently brushing over the petals as she recalled her experiences. After a moment of thought, she selected a bunch of blue-tinted flowers with a delicate fragrance and brought them back to Elara.

Elara's eyes brightened with surprise and approval as she accepted the flowers. "These are perfect, Isabel. How did you know these flowers help reduce fever? I thought you might ask your grandpa for help."

Isabel grinned proudly. "Last year, I got a really bad fever, and my grandma made a paste from these flowers to put on my forehead. It helped me feel better, so I remembered."

Elara chuckled softly, impressed by the girl's keen memory and resourcefulness. "You really remember things clearly. That's a wonderful trait, Isabel."

Isabel's grandfather, overhearing the conversation, beamed with pride. "She's a quick learner, our Isabel. Always paying attention and eager to help."

Elara knelt down to Isabel's level, her expression kind and encouraging. "Isabel, would you like to learn more about making potions and helping people? I could teach you, if you're interested."

Isabel's eyes widened with astonishment. "Really, Aunt Elara? Can I learn it."

Thomas nodded approvingly. "It's a great opportunity, Isabel. Elara is very skilled, and you can learn a lot from her."

Elara smiled warmly. "We can start with the basics, and as you learn, you'll be able to make potions and remedies that can help everyone in Valaraeth. How does that sound?"

Isabel nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds amazing! When can we start?"

"How about tomorrow after the market?" Elara suggested. "You can come to my cottage, and we'll begin your lessons."

Isabel clapped her hands in excitement. "I can't wait! Thank you, Aunt Elara!"

Elara stood up, ruffling Isabel's hair affectionately. "You're welcome, Isabel. I'm looking forward to our lessons."

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