Pact - Drakonophobia

            He wandered through the forest— no, drifted— almost as if carried. His feet never fell upon the burnt and broken branches, nor the hewn rocks that signified crossing into its territory. The signs were everywhere; in the silence of a forest that should have teemed with life, in the faint smell of dried pitch…. And in the incredible warmth of a cloudless, star filled night.
            The absence of everything brought to him a great trembling; a prince did not belong alone in a castle, much less the wilderness. He thought to call for his attendants, but something caught his voice, whispered to him so gently, alarmingly, that it was better to remain silent. The slightest gasp would spell doom so thorough that no means might spare him. He covered his mouth and scrunched his eyes closed real tight. Already, he could feel hot moisture streaming down his cheeks, and he did his best not to let his sobbing disturb the world around him.
            A roar broke out through the forest, and he froze. The pale light took on an ugly orange hue as  the air sweltered. Wicked streams of fire spurted over the broken treeline, writhing in the air for a moment before burning to nothingness. He threw himself on the ground, curling up tight upon himself, now sobbing uncontrollably between his wild and ragged breaths. The ground shivered at first, and then shook rather violently as another roar echoed throughout what remained of the wilderness.
            It was coming. Amid the tremors of sundered stone, the unmistakable quake of individual footfalls. The snapping of tree trunks as easily as he might fracture a twig. The intermittent gusts of wind that drove forth further jets of flame, scorching the tips of the trees still left standing. The thicket immediately before him burst into splinters, and shards of the wood tore at his skin as it scattered around him.
            Then, silence.
            Don't look.
            The vast and nightmarish footfalls became the modest patter of flesh moving across stone.
            Don't look.
            "It's alright, Feil." His mother's voice. "It's okay, my beautiful baby boy."
            Don't look!
            He could feel her hands upon his shoulders, warm, comforting. "Don't cry, my sweet child."
            Don't look!
            He looked.

            Standing above him, his mother. Whole. Beautiful. Smiling at him, her eyes crinkled warmly at the corners, overful with love and light.
            “There we are,” she said. Her smile widened, and she gently cupped his cheek in one hand.
            The sobs receded to sniffles as he regained himself. He stared into her eyes and wiped the tears from his face with tiny, trembling fists.
            “There, there,” she murmured, stooping further to place a kiss upon his forehead. She smoothed his hair with her free hand. “You’re alright now. You’re safe, my beloved.”
            He peeked at her again through his clenched hands, and a smile crept along his face.

            A sound.

            She gazed back at him, still smiling, eyes brighter than the stars. He wanted to throw himself into her arms. He wanted to bury himself in her warmth and never let go again.

            He couldn’t move. Couldn’t cross mere inches for the embrace he so craved. A wind picked up, that familiar, hot wind, and it swept her garments all around.

            A tear slipped from one eye and slid down her face, a thick and bright red streak in stark contrast to her pale and clammy skin. Abover her, the dragon. It glared at him with golden eyes narrowed in challenge, dragged a slavering tongue over rows upon rows of sharp fangs. Bubbling pitch oozed from its hideous, foul smelling maw, great droplets that fell like small birds. The force of their splattering alone seemed to shatter the rocks upon which they landed, and the sizzling vapors that escaped as they melted through the stone brought fresh, painful tears to his eyes. He began to choke.

            "It's okay, Feil," Mother told him. "Everything is okay. Everything is—" she lurched as the dragon's claws lacerated her back.  Feil choked again, but this time it was not the stone that withered under the dragon's vitriol. The dizzying fumes smelt of more than pitch now;  blood, flesh. He toppled to the ground again, stomach churning, heaving.
            "It's okay, my Prince. My sweet, sweet Prince..."

            He fell from his bedsheets and immediately began to vomit. Sobs wracked his tiny form in tandem with the gasps and heaves of his purging.  He heard footsteps in the hall, and still horrified from his dream, he did his best to hush, crouching down in the mess he'd made, lest the dragon hear his wailing and punish him further.
            The door opened, and torchlight pooled in the entrance to his chamber.
            "M-mommy?" he croaked.
            "Are you alright, Prince Feil?"
            He could make out the concerned faces his attendants. They watched him for a moment, then hurried into the room to assist. The first scooped him up while the second proceeded to size up the mess.
            "What happened?"
            Feil, recognizing the voice of his father, broke away from the servant and hurled himself into his father's arms.
            "What's wrong son?"
            "I want to see mommy."
            "Did you have another nightmare?"
            "I want to see mommy!"
            The King heaved a great and heavy sigh.

*

            They started down the hall to the royal bedchamber. "Your mother is resting now."

            They entered, and Feil started for the bed, but his father caught him. He struggled, to no avail.
            "Quietly."
            The pair of them paced across the chamber and carefully around the bed to stand beside the Queen.
            "Ralasia..." the King whispered. He stroked her brow.
            She looked at them, expressionless, eyes gleaming with specks of gold.
            "Mommy," Feil cried, clutching at the blankets. "Mommy!"
            She stared at him now, a demure face bearing a touch of curiosity, confusion, and nothing more.