La Princesa Dragón is a short story about breaking through stereotypes and becoming comfortable in your own skin. By Diya Sandeep and Madeline Johnson. Find cover art here: http://diyasandeep.com/?p=64

“Ahh! Leave me alone!” Princess Cristina screamed. She was currently being kidnapped by a dragon. The aforementioned dragon was very rude and had her in their clutches as they flew over the kingdom to who knows where.

“Oh, shut up. You are being a bother. I could just leave you, you know.” The princess screamed again, out of sheer shock. Since when do dragons speak?

“What did I just say?” The dragon growled.

“What’s wrong with you!” The princess hesitated. “You… you beast.”

“I have a name, you know. It’s Syrax.”

“You do? Isn’t Syrax a bit girly?”

“Yes, I do. And that’s because I am a girl. What’s your name?” The dragon asked, voice softer than before.

“Cristina. Princess Cristina of the kingdom of Tiade.” She spoke, her chin high. The dragon laughed.

“A princess? You. That can’t be possible.”

“Yes! It is true. I am a princess.”

“You must not be a very good princess. To be kidnapped.” The dragon muttered.

“I am sorry. What did you say?” The princess, from her place in the dragon’s clutches, drew back, almost imperceptibly. “I am a good princess. A better one than you would be.”

“Thank God I’m not a princess if all of them are like you.” The dragon snorted. The princess sniffs delicately, offended.

“It is an honor to be a princess! Much more than being a kidnapper and an evil and scheming dragon.” The princess harrumphed.

“Evil. Us! That’s rich. We are not the ones who have been dominating the world and killing entire species.” The dragon’s voice became dangerously low. 

Then, for just a second, Cristina was back in her room. Pink and vibrant, she was home again. Suddenly, she was back in Syrax’s grasp and answered, as if she had never left.

“We… We… We are not. At least we’re not trying to.” She whispered the last part.

Syrax laughed dryly and replied, “Well, that doesn’t matter, does it?” Cristina flinched and then felt the hard rock under her feet and realized that they have reached their destination.

Over the next few days, Syrax and Princess Cristina became something that was almost close to friends. They fought more often and more passionately than they ought to, but Cristina was slowly starting to learn there was more to life than the palace. 

But that sentiment didn’t stop the flashes she got of her room back home. Little snippets of the life she had been taken from. 

Syrax had taken Cristina to a lair, a dragon’s lair. More specifically, Syrax’s lair, which was really nothing more than a cave. It was big and empty, boring and lonely. Cristina could almost understand Syrax’s motives for taking her, but she still hadn’t forgiven the dragon, because, for all their banter, Cristina was still homesick for the luxury of her home, the few friends she had made, and even her absent parents.

Syrax startles Cristina from her thoughts with a low rumble.

“Hey there. You didn’t come back in for dinner. I got- I got kind of concerned. Not for your safety because I care about you,” Syrax laughed, but Cristina, even in her depressed state, could tell it was fake. “Of course, it wasn’t that. I just- It was a lot of hard work kidnapping you and all. Would hate for all of that to go to waste.” Syrax fake chuckled some more.

The scene quickly flickered, to give Cristina another look at the palace she missed so much. The pain grew in her and transformed into something akin to anger.

“I’m fine.” Cristina’s reply was as short as her temper and as snappy as she felt. The giant dragon sat down next to her.

“No. No, you’re not. You miss them, don’t you? I do too, sometimes. When I see something one of them would’ve loved, or even tolerated just for me.” Cristina looked questioningly at Syrax. Syrax continued, tentative. “I lost loved ones. Long ago. My mother died protecting me and my sisters. A few of them died anyway. I only have one now, but she hates me, for not hating them.”

“Who?” Cristina’s voice could’ve died with the wind, which had picked up, but somehow it carried to Syrax. 

Any remaining hesitance faded. “The people who killed our mother. Our sisters. I found them afterward. I was so angry, when I looked at them, there was no understanding, no guilt, not even fear. There was pride and hate. They had killed a mother and children and they were proud. I realized then, they were monsters. Not my youngest sister, who couldn’t even fly, but had died. Them. I let them go. My sister has never forgiven me for that.” Syrax explained.

“I’m sorry. May I ask, why not? Why did you let them go?” Cristina’s voice was as soft as before, filled with the pain that Syrax had dealt with alone for so long.

“Because they were only human. They couldn’t help themselves. They may have been proud, may have been celebrated, but at that moment, I pitied them for not being able to understand. The way none of you could understand.” Syrax answered, sounding wiser than Cristina had ever known her to be.

“You’re right. I do miss them. I miss home. Not just my parents, but my whole life. I’ve never lost someone the way you have. Because I never really had them the way you did. My parents have never been mine. They are kingdom’s. As am I. All I had were the servants that thought my life was great. The other royalty, that acted as if we were flawless- perfect.” Cristina’s eyes were overwhelmed by unshed tears. Syrax’s next words pushed her off the precipice. 

“It’s okay to not be perfect.” Cristina started sobbing, for all that she had lost, and all that Syrax had given her in these few moments. Every weakness that could be used against her, every secret that was dangerous to give away. 

She knew now. Syrax was a friend. A true one. A real one. Not one of the people she had made polite conversation with every now and then. Someone who had seen who she was beneath her titles and masks and stayed anyway. 

After their long talk, they became close. Friends now. Nothing big changed between them, except now, they understood each other. Cristina knew all that Syrax had been through and Syrax knew how much Cristina had been keeping bottled up. 

Now, they went on walks together every day, to talk about how they felt. Cristina had been uncomfortable with it in the beginning but had grown used to it since that first time. 

“What are you thinking about?” Syrax asked her, kindly, now used to Cristina’s spaciness.

“Nothing much,” Cristina replied, not wanting to seem obsessed or overly clingy. 

The two of them walked towards the cave and noticed a distinct shape was moving toward them.

“ What is that?” Cristina and Syrax asked in unison. As the mysterious figure got closer, its silhouette got clearer.

“Is that a person?” Cristina questioned. The figure was a knight in shining armor on a beautiful black horse. “It is. Great!” She added, sarcasm oozing from her voice. 

“What is a soldier doing here? Did you call someone to ‘save you’? From me? You know I would never-” Syrax asked.

“I know. I didn’t. I would never do that to you, Syrax. Never.” Though the truth of how much Syrax had come to mean to her had been acknowledged a few days ago, it was with her words now that it sunk into her very core. Syrax was her very best friend.

The knight reached them. 

“Oh, beautiful Princess Cristina, with hair the color of chocolate and icy blue eyes. I have come to rescue you!” he called out.

“Shoo,” The princess flicked the knight away. “I don’t want or need to be rescued. I’m actually rather happy here. Leave now. I hate to turn you away, but goodbye.”

“I’m afraid I cannot leave. You see, your parents have promised you to me. I can hardly leave my to-be-wife with a horrendous dragon.” denies the knight.

Cristina and Syrax draw back, offended. “Syrax is not horrendous! She is beautiful. Do you not see her amethyst scales as they catch the light? They shimmer the most gorgeous shade of emerald!” Cristina yells, angry and passionate. How dare this… imbecile insult her best friend? And still hope to marry her? 

“It is a dragon! A monster! Not a creature to admire. Not beautiful in any way, and certainly as pretty as you!” The knight fights back.

For a minute, Cristina is back home. Normally, she is only back for a few seconds, but now she lingers. Her eyes are open wide as she takes in her room. Her mother is here, and Cristina wants to shout. To argue. How could her mother tell that awful knight that she, Cristina, would marry him? 

She gasps for air as the queen caresses her cheek, whispering to her. She tries to tell her mother of the emotions rolling through her, like the breeze of a windy day, but then she is back.

She is in the knight’s arms. She is with him. Not with Syrax. With him. She struggles, but his grip is far too tight for her to manage an escape.

“Let me go!” Cristina manages, though everything is still hazy.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” The knight replies, calm, as if he wasn’t taking Cristina away from everything that she had loved so much. Like Syrax had when she stole Cristina, but she knew that, unlike the way she had grown attached to Syrax, she would never love this knight. Never.

Cristina shut her eyes, not wanting this, not wanting to see Syrax as Cristina was taken. Her eyes fluttered against her will and she felt, rather than saw, Syrax’s distress and helplessness. Then they closed again, and everything went dark.

“Where’s that knight?” Cristina shouted as she woke up. She swung herself off the bed and got into a fighting position. Her hands were balled up into fists, which she held close to her chest. Her right leg was raised so that at a moment’s notice, she could kick an attacker. She leaned to the left.

Cristina lowered her leg as she took in her surroundings. She was at the palace- home. She was home. The cave wasn’t home, this was. To be specific, she was in her room. Her pink room. She realized now how much she hated this shade of pink. She much preferred the color of Syrax’s scales, a deep amethyst that glinted dark green in the sunlight.

“Mistress, what are you talking about? What knight?” There was a maid near her door. Cristina dropped her arms as quickly as she could. 

“The knight. The one that took me from Syrax. The big dragon that stole me weeks ago. The man I was supposed to marry.” Cristina said the last word with obvious disgust.

The maid seemed confused. Cristina’s animated way of explaining probably didn’t help. “I’m going to get your mother, Her Majesty. And the doctor. Your Highness.” The maid curtsied, her gaze pointed downward.

“The doctor? What doctor? I don’t need any doctor! I just need to know where that awful knight is.” Cristina tried to help the maid understand, but the servant had already slipped out.

Cristina’s life only got harder from there. Her mother had told her some crazy story about how Syrax only tried to steal her away. Then, Cristina had hit her head and had been in a coma for almost a month!

Not to mention, there really was no knight. Cristina had checked through all the records and there had never been a knight. 

She knew her mother was right, but didn’t want to admit it. Not out of pride, but because if the queen was right, then Syrax, her best friend – her only friend, had never existed. Everyone told her that she was delusional. That all of it had been hallucinations, dreams, and her imagination. 

And they were right. 

That didn’t stop her from feeling out of place in her own room, out of her depth with her own parents. That didn’t stop her from being so uncomfortable with her own life. She had changed because of that coma, and she knew that her change wasn’t a good thing, had been told and shown a hundred times. But when she remembered Syrax and her lair, their friendship, she also knew that she had never felt more like herself, more right.

So she held on to those memories like they were the only thing she owned.

Cristina started to meditate. When she felt the pressure of being a princess, she would go to her room and meditate. It was then that she realized that Syrax had to come from somewhere.

If her beloved friend wasn’t real, then Syrax had to have come from her mind. Her subconscious. 

She remembered how before the accident, she used to feel like she didn’t belong, but then those whirlpool emotions that she could have spiraled in, that could have pulled her under and caused her to drown the way she was now, disappeared. They would come back occasionally, but never for long.

She realized that Syrax, her best friend, was her. Was Cristina. Or at least some buried part of her. That while it was really pathetic and sad that she was her own only friend, she would always have Syrax with her. 

Then, she wondered why, though they were similar, the two of them were so different. Syrax was brave and kind and strong. A pillar of strength in a stormy world. Cristina was none of that. She was cowardly, selfish, weak. But she didn’t want to be. She wanted to be like Syrax. To make her friend, even if the dragon was a piece of her, proud.

Through all this introspection, she began to think her life was wasted here. It wasn’t worth the luxury if nothing she was doing was meaningful. So she decided to run away. She packed lots of money, a little food, and a few clothes. Nothing too conspicuous. And she ran. 

“María! There you are. Buy some mangoes! They’re on sale!” called out Madhuli.

“I wish! I can’t, though. I’m too busy. Thank you for the offer.” Cristina replied. María was a name she had taken on to hide from her parents, who had gone crazy when she disappeared. They had promised her in marriage to a knight if he could find and save her. But he would never.

“Why are you in town if you don’t want to shop?” Madhuli asked.

“I do want to shop. For ingredients.” Cristina replied. Though magic was shunned and banned in much of Tiade, the little village of Hada not only accepted it but embraced it. Despite that, not many magic practitioners lived there because of its known status and beliefs on magic. 

Cristina herself had taken up magic and lived in a tall tower just outside the village. She had been practicing for years to work up to a big spell. A spell that would allow her to bring Syrax out of her imagination and into the real world.

Many of the potion ingredients were common and could be found in the woods or purchased in Hada. Excluding the dragon egg. With dragons being hunted and rare, their eggs were especially well protected, and it was likely Cristina would never find one. But she would try.

She walked to Madame Orchid’s, her supplier for all the magical necessities she couldn’t harvest or find herself. 

“I need some belladonna. Madhuli’s mother has some more arthritis.” Cristina ordered.

“Of course, dear. Give me a moment.” replied the Madame. She disappeared into a room in the back of the store and a few seconds later, emerged with the nightshade Cristina needed. 

“Thank you, Madame.”

“Anything for you, María,” responded Madame Orchid. Cristina waved and started to make her way home.

As she arrived at her home, which looked rather imposing to the outside eye, she caught on something. Something that shimmered the way Syrax’s scales had.

She walked closer and examined the object. After a few minutes, she knew exactly what it was.

A dragon egg.

One that looked as if it could have been Syrax’s. Then, it dawned upon her. This egg could belong to the dragon that had almost killed Cristina so long ago. The dragon that was her catalyst. The reason for her change.

Cristina could get back at it. Could take this egg, bring Syrax back. Get everything she had ever wanted. But then, she remembered the sharp loss she had felt when she learned Syrax wasn’t real.

And she knew. She never wanted anyone to feel that way. Not even the dragon who had taken so much from her. Cristina could get back at the dragon and get back Syrax. But she didn’t want to. Not if it meant causing new pain. She had gotten over her own, but it was still there. She could deal. That mother couldn’t.

She left the egg where it was and went home. She was happy as she was. The next day, the egg was gone.