CHAPTER 21
I cannot go to school today"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps." ~ Shel Silverstein
OCTOBER 5590AG
11 YEARS BEFORE THE WAR OF DRAGONITE
"Hazel!" Lady Katrin Lechner snarled from the kitchen.
Boro shot Hazel a wide-eyed glance. "Oh no, what have you done this time?"
She chuckled impishly. "I haven't done anything, Boro."
Boro, Hazel's best friend, didn't trust a word she said. He knew she had a knack for getting herself into trouble and pulling him along with her.
"Get in here immediately!" Lady Katrin yelled once more, her voice taking on a shrill quality.
"Why's mother yelling, then?" Boro tilted his head.
"How should I know?" she grinned.
They were crouched behind a lush hydrangea bush, their clothes streaked with sand and mud, and their faces turned towards each other. Boro gazed at Hazel with wary eyes, while a sly smile curled her mouth as if she didn't have a care in the world.
The garden in front of the castle was a picturesque haven, with vibrant blooms bursting from every corner and neatly trimmed hedges lining the pathways.
The fragrance of flowers filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of freshly cut grass. The sun cast dappled shadows through the towering trees, creating a serene ambiance perfect for leisurely strolls or secret hideaways. And Hazel was fond of hiding behind the bushes, imagining herself in a world beyond the borders of Dragonite.
"I know it was you, young lady. Are you coming inside, or do I need to come and fetch you?" Her mother's frustration was palpable this time.
Hazel rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.
"Fine, let's go, Bori."
She hoisted herself up, brushing dirt off her red dress adorned with white polka dots, and headed towards the quaint cottage she called home.
Boro sighed and trailed behind her, his footsteps dragging. Despite being two years older than Hazel, he struggled to rein in this fiery 12 years old dynamo.
Hazel paused, casting a glance behind her shoulder at the gigantic building towering over her.
The castle housing the royal family of Dragonite loomed majestically over the garden. Its weathered stone walls bore witness to centuries of history. The brown and black turrets reached towards the sky, their spires piercing the clouds, while ivy climbed the ancient facade, adding a touch of natural beauty to the imposing structure.
The flag of Dragonite fluttered proudly atop the tallest turret, its vibrant hues of deep crimson and royal gold catching the sunlight with a regal gleam.
Embroidered in shimmering threads with an intricate dragon motif, its wings spread wide in flight, the flag billowed in the breeze like an emblem of power and sovereignty.
Despite its grandeur, there was a sense of warmth and homeliness emanating from the castle, inviting all who entered to feel like a part of its past.
Countless guards stood at different entrance points across the grounds, wearing striking red and black uniforms and holding gleaming silver swords. Their vigilant eyes darted about, casting glances at passerby with a mix of suspicion and authority.
Nestled in the corner of the garden, the house of Lady Katrin Lechner stood out like a sore thumb against the grandeur of the castle. Its placement seemed a bit odd, but Lady Lechner, being the Queen's consort, had chosen to stay close to Her Majesty.
She was a widow; her late husband, Sir Maximian Lechner, had heroically sacrificed his life to protect the King of Dragonite, His Highness Alexander Harrow, during a skirmish with the Dark Army.
The Lechner family's loyalty and bravery were well-known and appreciated by the royalty.
Furthermore, Queen Celine Riedl held a special affection for Hazel and Boro. And she was determined to keep Lady Lechner close, far from the prospect of residing in the servants' quarters. Her status as the Queen's consort elevated her above the maids and servants who tended to the needs of the royal clan.
Hazel happily headed home, her silver hair bouncing with every skip and shining in the sunlight. She scrunched her brows as she glanced at the perfectly trimmed grass. The garden was so neat and tidy that there wasn't a single stone or a pebble for her to kick as she hopped along.
She shot Boro a quick glance, attempting to suppress her grin, before turning the doorknob. Her teeth clenched as the door let out a loud creak.
The moment they stepped inside the cottage, both of them adopted a solemn, mournful expression as if they were heading for a funeral.
The duo bowed their heads and entered the kitchen where Lady Lechner was waiting for them, eyes ablaze and ears fuming.
"Hazel, did you mix the sugar with salt again?" Lady Lechner's voice was sharp and exasperated. This was the fifth time Hazel had mixed up the spices.
Hazel kept her gaze fixed on her feet, shifting nervously.
Boro stepped forward, taking the blame for her. "I'm sorry, mother. It was my mistake."
"Don't try to cover for her, young man, or you'll be doing ten laps around the stadium before dinner," Lady Lechner admonished him sternly.
Boro winced and cast Hazel a sideways glance which said, 'it's-all-on-you'.
"I'm sorry, mother," Hazel muttered, though her heart wasn't truly apologetic.
She was fighting to conceal the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.
It was imperative that she kept her gaze glued towards the ground if she didn't want to get caught.
Lady Lechner let out a heavy sigh, her expression filled with disappointment.
"Sweetheart, this pie was meant for the prince. You know how much he adores my apple pies. He specifically requested it, and now it's ruined."
Despite having an army of servants around her, Lady Lechner preferred to cook dinner for her kids. She did not want them growing up in a home where they never knew the joy of their mother's cooking.
Hazel pressed her lips together tightly, her frustration evident. She resented the princes treating her mother as their personal chef. Why couldn't they ask the royal cooks to make them pies if they desired them so much?
"Prince Asjam should ask the palace chef to make him one," she retorted, meeting her mother's gaze head-on.
"He's like a son to me, Hazel. Don't be disrespectful."
"He's like your son, mother; that's exactly my point."
"Doesn't the Queen treat you and Boro like her own?"
Hazel shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Queen Celine's kindness. It was true that the Queen had always been exceptionally generous towards them.
Her mother let out another weary sigh before approaching Hazel with gentle steps. She could see the little girl's feelings of insecurity and loneliness written all over her face.
Seven-year-old Hazel had been devastated when Lady Katrin revealed that she was adopted, and it had been five long years since that day.
Of course Lady Lechner had to tell her, Hazel was the only silver head in their house. Whereas, Lady Lechner and Boro had black hair and brown eyes.
Since then, Hazel felt like she didn't belong anywhere. She feared that anyone who got close to her mother would snatch her away.
Plus, Boro would also leave her and marry someone like Hexa who was always giving him, what Hazel called, 'the-hungry-eye' look when he was sparring in the stadium.
And when that happened she would be left all alone in this ginormous world. Hazel shuddered at the thought.
"My dear, I'll always be here for you," her mother reassured her tenderly.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
"But why wouldn't you leave me? Even my real parents didn't want me," she choked out.
Her mother enveloped her in a soft embrace, planting a kiss on her forehead.
"I don't believe that's true. Sometimes life takes unexpected turns, and people have to make tough decisions. What your birth parents did could be an act of love, even if it doesn't seem like it. I'm sure they carry the pain of being separated from you in their hearts."
"You can't know that," Hazel murmured, her voice trembling.
Lady Lechner understood her daughter's pain and fears.
"Look at me, my love."
Reluctantly, Hazel lifted her grey eyes, moist with tears, and met her mother's warm brown gaze. She always found solace in those eyes, filled with boundless love and affection.
"I'll never choose anyone over you," her mother declared, her voice steady and resolute.
Hazel felt a weight lift off her shoulders instantly. Despite her tears, a smile graced her lips.
"Not even Boro?" She questioned.
Her mother's smile was gentle. "Not even him."
Boro let out a snort, mature enough to understand his mother's love for the two of them.
Hazel sniffed, wiping the last of her tears away.
"Did you hear that, Bori? Mother loves me more."
He responded with a dramatic cough.
"In your dreams, fireball."
Ignoring Boro's banter, Hazel wrapped her arms tightly around her mother.
"I love you," she murmured.
Lady Lechner returned the embrace, her voice soft. "I love you more, sweetie."
Hazel nibbled on her lip, then mumbled, "Sorry about the pie. I swear on Beegal, it won't happen again."
"Poor Beegal, I better start planning his funeral," Boro muttered to no one in general.
Hazel shot him a glare before turning to her mother.
"I really won't do it again," she promised firmly.
Her mother nodded. Then, with a hint of amusement twinkling in her eyes, she said, "I believe you, sweetheart. And don't worry about the pie. I'll whip up another one for the prince and a lemon meringue pie while I'm at it."
A small smile was playing at the corners of her mouth as she glanced at Hazel.
Hazel gasped, her eyes gleaming with delight.
"You're making a lemon meringue pie?" She exclaimed.
"Of course, darling. A little birdie told me my lovely daughter has a soft spot for lemon meringue pies," her mother replied.
Hazel's heart swelled with joy. She grinned from ear to ear, feeling incredibly lucky to have such a wonderful mother. To her, her mother was the best woman in the whole wide world. And lemon meringue pie was the best dessert in the entire universe.
Unable to contain her excitement, she squealed and threw her arms around her mother again.
"Thank you, thank you, mother!" She exclaimed.
Lady Lechner chuckled and spread her arms wide, beckoning Boro to join them. Without hesitation, Boro rushed into his mother's embrace, and she enveloped both her children in a tender hug.
"Alright, you two, off you go. Let me work. Play outside, but don't wander too far away," she instructed.
Hazel shot Boro a mischievous grin.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Boro snickered and winked at her.
"Race you to the mountains!" he yelled before dashing out of the house, his muddy shoes crunching on the tiled floor.
"Not the mountains!" His mother called out, exasperated.
Hazel chuckled. "What a dumbo!"
With a circular motion of her hand, she conjured a portal, its edges tinged with silver and fading into an ombre hue until it resembled a dark void at its centre.
Stepping inside, she quickly closed it before her mother could protest about her creating portals at such a young age.
The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the murky river winding through the snow-covered mountains of Dragonite.
As the day neared its end, Hazel and Boro stood at the summit of the tallest mountain in the Ruyaal Range. Looking down at the steep drop of 9500 meters, Boro felt a chill run down his spine, his heart sinking with fear.
He gazed at Hazel as if she had lost her mind.
"When I said mountains, I meant THE BASE OF THE MOUNTAIN, NOT THE SUMMIT!"
His voice boomed out of fear and frustration, drowned out by the howling wind whipping ferociously around them.
His robes flapped wildly around his ankles, and his nose was flushed red from the biting cold.
Hazel, however, looked utterly captivated. A wide grin stretched across her face.
"Are you scared, Bori?" She jested at him.
He scoffed, attempting to maintain a brave facade.
"Miss, don't mock my chivalry. I took the blame for you in front of mother."
She wanted to express her gratitude, but she knew he could read her without words, and thanking him would only make things weirdly awkward between them.
"Well, that's what big brothers are for, right?"
He blushed furiously.
"I'm not your brother!"
Boro despised it when she referred to him as such.
The corner of her mouth drooped slightly.
"Well, I guess not. You're Boro Lechner. And I'm just Hazel. No last name, no real identity."
Her heart clenched as she spoke. A pang of sadness washed over her, and she thought about her parents. She would never get to meet them or even know their names.
Mother said she had found Hazel in a wicker basket, wrapped up in blankets. There had been no notes. And in the dead of night, her mother couldn't go out looking for the person who had left Hazel at her doorsteps.
Boro furrowed his brows, nudging her gently in the side. "You could always become a Lechner, you know."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "How?"
"When we're older, you could marry me. I'd grant you the honor of being my wife," he declared with importance.
Hazel burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the mountains until she was nearly choking with mirth. Boro looked at her, slightly abashed.
"God forbid I'm that desperate for a surname, Bori," she managed to say between giggles.
He chuckled, trying to cover up his embarrassment. "I was only joking, trying to cheer you up."
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, studying his face intently. Boro glanced away, hiding his awkward grin.
They sat in comfortable silence, their eyes fixed on the majestic mountains sprawling before them. The tranquility of the surroundings enveloped them, and Hazel relished every moment spent in this serene setting.
For the past two years, Hazel has been secretly sneaking away to this very spot through her portals. Her mother would have a fit if she found out about her clandestine excursions.
Since a couple of months, Boro tugged along with her, protesting in the beginning but agreeing to accompany her despite his fear of heights.
She knew he hated coming with her, but Hazel appreciated his loyalty and caring nature. She was forever grateful for such a devoted friend.
She cherished him more than anything in the world.
As the wind howled around them, nipping at their exposed skin, Boro broke the silence, "It's getting late Hazel, I think we should go," he suggested.
Hazel seemed lost in thought, her eyes glazed over, as if she hadn't heard him. She was deep in contemplation, pondering something.
"Boro, what do you think lies beyond those mountains?" Hazel asked, gesturing towards the mountain range painted in hues of red and pink.
Boro whipped his head towards her so quickly that he felt a crick in his neck.
"Don't even think about it," he cautioned, his voice wavering with apprehension.
A glimmer in her eyes betrayed her intentions, and he knew exactly what she was plotting.
"I would never..." Hazel protested, feigning innocence with a wounded expression.
He cocked an eyebrow and shook his head in frustration. "No!"
"Please, please, please, Boro!" She pleaded, casting him a coy glance.
"No, absolutely not. You're not travelling beyond the mountains. Haven't you heard? That's the Kral's empire, and who knows what dangers lurk there?"
"Just one time," she implored, grasping his freezing hand in both of hers and pleading with him.
"I'm not going with you," he declared, his tone resolute.
She shot him a glare, her expression darkening.
"Fine, soon very soon I'll travel to the far beyond!" She said, making a face.
"Fine! When that happens, make sure to inform me beforehand, I'll come searching for your bones when you don't return home."
She smirked smugly, "What a dumbo!"
"Firecracker!" He retorted.
Then she turned to lock eyes with him, her face creased with lines of worry. "Do you think it's dangerous?"
He met her gaze steadily.
"Yes," Boro answered.
She shivered, a chill running down her spine, both from the cold and the fear that was creeping in. Goosebumps rose across her arms, and she hugged herself.
"Well, if we never try, we'll never know for sure," she reasoned, as if this resolved the argument.
"I'm going beyond the mountains."
"I'll inform mother," Boro snapped, feeling a pang of fear for her.
The tales he'd heard from his friends in the sparring stadium about Kral and his empire filled him with dread.
"No, you won't."
"And why not?"
"Don't you want me to carry your surname?"
Boro gazed at her, at a loss for words. She always managed to leave him.
baffled. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts.
"Let's head back; it's almost dinner time," he reminded her.
She seized his hand and conjured a portal, dragging his frozen ass inside and whisking them back to the castle gardens.
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Author's Note: Oh! The joy of being a child and not having a care in the world.
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