It’ll take all the strength of one, small dragon to save their kind. Maayin must become that dragon. Trouble is, she believes she’s human.
Maay hummed as she worked the old loom, the dull clack of wood like a child’s lullaby to her ears. Sunlight blazed into the small solarium, its stifling heat cooled by the wind blowing through the open windows. Tall, potted plants screened the bulk of the sunlight from those first entering, their green leaves bright and inviting as they bobbed in the breeze.
She cocked her head to the sound of footsteps echoing through from the open door on the other side of the living barrier. Men. It had to be for their boots to hit the stone with such a racket. One pair even sounded as if punctuated by the dull clink of metal.
Maay frowned at the woven threads before her, idly looping another through. Not many men came into this quarter of the castle, mostly servants with their soft shoes and irritating tendencies to blend into the background.
She glanced over her shoulder, gaze perusing the room before settling on at the wide leaves overhanging the tiny foliage-crafted doorway. You’re imagining things again. Why earlier, she could’ve sworn she’d heard the flap of massive wings. Like a dragon. Utter foolishness. Dragons hadn’t flown over this region since before her birth.
Shaking her head, she returned to her work, hoping to regain the comfort in being blissfully alone. Rarely could she find time without her brothers and sisters, both the older and the younger, dogging her. One day, or so her adopted mother believed, she’d miss their presence and the foolish games they’d played.