Defying the Dragon

Prologue

Defying the Dragon

Prologue

She ran through the dark corridors, while the music from the ballroom hid the sound her heels – very uncomfortable, but vitally important for her subterfuge – were making on the varnished wood floor. She was breathing rapidly, and her heart was pounding, but she didn't dare stop. Sooner or later he would realize that his treasure was missing and then he would come for her. She needed to reach her destination before that happened.

She continued running, holding the path to freedom in her hand.

She didn't see anything of the beauty of the castle.

A prison was a prison no matter if it was made from unremarkable metals and full of filth or polished with gold and kept clean and tidy. It remained a cage.

Music accompanies her steps, making her minuscule hope of escape to burn out. She heard clear and powerful the distinctive notes of the waltz and that meant she was much too close to the ballroom.

Much too close to her guardian.

Too close to the cage her curiosity threw her in.

She continued to run.

Even though hope was leaving her with every step she made, chased by the crystal notes of the melody – Dmitri Shostakovich "Waltz Nr. 2" – she forced her feet to go on. All was not lost yet. She just had to find the door to freedom, to step over the threshold and to leave the dragon's domain behind. Once outside, he would have no more power over her.

Suddenly, the musical notes changed, transforming into something slower, more hypnotizing.

"No..." she whispered, her heart – which was already pounding – began beating erratically. A little more and it would leave her chest.

She almost stops, trying to better hear the music.

Argentinian tango.

It hasn't yet reached "Silence" by Beethoven.

"I still have time," she told herself, taking a left and then a right.

The corridors were unending, and the feeling that she would never get out of that place grew stronger, its darkness extinguishing the frail flame of hope.

Just when she was prepared to give up and go back to the Dragon, the key she had in her right hand began to warm up.

She didn't know what it meant but preferred to think that it was guiding her to freedom, that just like her it wanted to be reunited with the world it was made from.

She followed the silent impulse, going back every time she felt the intensity of the heat go down.

The varnished wood of the floor was slowly replaced by marble and then by ancient stones, cracks letting life flourish here and there, and opulence being gradually replaced by the scarcity of reality.

This was what was real. This was the true castle behind the mask of grandeur. This was where she saw the reality behind the illusion created by the power and desire of the dragon.

She made a sudden right and stopped instantly, the key falling from her hand, stolen by the man that leans against the massive wood door. The ivy crept over the decades slowly through the cracks and covered the words of warning engraved in the ancient stone threshold.

Rikat.

He was magnificent.

But that was to be expected since the persons that were truly malefic never coerced or forced. No. They seduced. They stimulated your senses and subjugated reason. They captivated your attention and enraptured your pride.