The only sound Ralf could hear was the rhythmic beating of Mirum's large, silver-scaled wings as she flew high above the castle grounds, drifting toward the hills of the training grounds. Ralf's head rested blissfully on his dragon's neck as he absorbed this wonderful feeling of freedom, this feeling of speed, agility, and grace. A feeling that he knew would soon disappear once they landed and he was forced to maneuver on his own.
He absolutely hated being grounded. His left leg, deformed since birth, restricted his movements and made his walking clumsy and slow. Ralf loathed the looks he got around the castle and, though he did his best to appear happy and full of good humor, in reality he was constantly reminded that he was tragically abnormal and different from everyone else. Not only did he struggle to walk with his gimp leg, but he also bore the mark of the dragon bond on his right hand.
Ralf knew that under normal circumstances he would be completely honored and privileged to bare such a rare and powerful mark however, combined with his crippled leg, he only felt like he was the embodiment of wasted potential. This feeling was confirmed by the stares of pity he often received as he struggled to walk around the castle grounds without the help of his dragon, Mirum.
As a child, Ralf and Mirum had grown at an equal pace. This allowed Ralf to be able to walk around faster and with less pain since he could literally lean on his dragon for support. They went everywhere together, always followed by his younger twin sister, Elysia. Elysia and Ralf were just as close as Ralf was to Mirum. The three of them went everywhere together and got into their share of mischief, thanks to Elysia.
Ralf felt as though he were divided into three beings, himself, Elysia, and Mirum. With those two he felt completely free of judgement and able to express himself openly and honestly. Elysia was no doubt Ralf's favorite sibling.
Growing up with Henry as an older brother was the worst torture Ralf could imagine. Though he would never wish any ill harm upon his older brother, Ralf could not help but feel as though Henry was his worst enemy. Both Henry and his friend, Miles, would incessantly torment Ralf (though Miles stopped once he developed his crush on Elysia and knew that picking on Ralf angered her).
Not a day went by that Ralf did not envy his older brother in some way, whether it be his ability to walk normally, his undeniable knack to attract practically any woman, his sword fighting skills, or the admiration and respect he received from everyone in the kingdom. Though admittedly, Ralf did not envy the pressure that came with being the next in line for the throne. Unlike Henry, Ralf did not have to worry about ruling the kingdom of Lyra or marrying a foreign princess or commanding an army of Lyran soldiers.
Ralf only wished he could be normal. He did not wish away his dragon or his family (even Henry). He only wished for one simple thing: to be able to walk and to run as he pleased.
All too soon Mirum began to make her descent back toward the castle grounds. When she landed, Ralf struggled as he always did to smoothly slide off from his dragon's saddle. He had to prop himself up using his right leg and then, using his left arm, slide his lifeless leg over the saddle for better positioning.
With a grunt of effort, he quickly used his free arm to grab the cane that was slotted into a compartment of the saddle. Placing the cane in his right hand, he carefully slid off the saddle and landed rather painfully onto the ground. It took all of his abdominal strength to keep from falling over.
Once he regained his balance, he began to walk forward. As a child, it had taken him twice as long to learn to walk as it had Elysia. Ever since his first steps, he had always felt pain when he walked. Over the years, the pain had never gone away, rather he developed a tolerance for the constant cumbersome throbbing.
His breathing came in heavy pants as he struggled to walk forward. He had spent most of his physical and mental energy yesterday learning more magic with his mother guiding him and his father instructing him in the methods of combat.
Mirum looked over at him with her worried hazel eyes. "You're still sore from yesterday, we should take it easy for the rest of today."
Ralf shook his head and waved her off. "I'm fine, just a little winded is all. We need to keep practicing."
"For what?" his dragon asked. "There's no hurry, we have the rest of our lives to train and prepare and learn. You push yourself too hard every day. One day you're going to push too hard."
Ralf did his best to control his emotions and temper. He was constantly frustrated with himself during training, annoyed that he could not do everything he wanted so badly to do. Though his magical abilities were flourishing daily with the help of his parents' teachings, his physical ability seemed to have reached a peak...a very low peak. It seemed as though no matter what he did or how hard he tried, he just could not get any better. His leg was holding him back.
Not too long ago a thought had occurred to Ralf about the stark contrast between his magical ability and his physical ability. He wondered if there was a way that he could use magic to help him maneuver better with his leg. He knew that there was no cure for his affliction, but what if there was another way to help?
Such an idea had caused him to spend several sleepless nights in Lyran's largest library, researching something that might help. However, he had yet to find anything helpful. For a while he had tested out the possibility of simply controlling the movement of his leg with his mind, pushing his leg forward using magic. Unfortunately, this had ended rather badly. Ralf had pushed a little too hard and ended up ramming himself into a brick wall. On the bright side, his dragon bond had healed him of any injury he had caused himself.
Day after day Ralf wondered why his magical dragon bond could cure him of the worst injuries, even near death experiences, yet it could not fix his leg. How much simpler, how much happier his life would be if it were that easy.
"Stop thinking about it." Mirum scolded him, knowing where his thoughts were. She could always tell when he was internally beating himself up and wishing things were different. "You can't change it. Your disability doesn't define you, you are whoever you want to be."
Ralf met his dragon's gaze and instantly his spirit lightened. He was so lucky to have her, to have this bond. Without it he would be completely lost and helpless. "You're right," he admitted. "I need to stop wishing my life away, especially on things I can't change."
"That's the spirit!"
"How about we take a break for the day? I should probably go inside and clean up anyway. Henry's future wife is supposed to be arriving any moment and I'm sure he'll want me to meet her."
Mirum moved over to her bond-mate and nuzzled him encouragingly with her head. Ralf gave her an affectionate head rub and then focused his attention on successfully walking back into the castle. Each step forward felt like trudging through deep mud but eventually he made it into the castle. The hard part was walking up the steps to his room.
Originally, his room had been on the main level so he wouldn't have to struggle up so many stairs. However, after days of relentless teasing from Henry, Ralf decided to prove his brother wrong. Henry always said that the servants and lowly apprentices had rooms on the first floor. Normally the idea of sleeping on the same level as the help would not bother Ralf one bit. Ralf always considered the staff as equals, he did not think it fair that a person's social and economic status be determined by who their parents were, something that cannot be helped. Had Ralf not been born into royalty, he would probably be on the side of the street begging for spare change, close to death.
Ralf did his best to make monthly trips with his sister into town and help anyone they could. He had a soft spot for anyone with a disability and would often give them more food and coins than others. He admired his sister's generosity and consistent trips into the poorest of villages, even though it got her into trouble.
Once again, as Ralf trudged up the stairs, he pondered why he had been so weak as to give in to his brother's taunts. He had loved having his bedroom on the main level, where the access to everything was so convenient. He didn't have to walk up any stairs, he was right next to the kitchen, and he could easily make his way to the library. Now that his room was on the third floor like the rest of his family, he had no such luxury.
Sure, the room was larger and he was on the same level as his bigheaded brother, but a part of him felt like he had lost a battle. Yes, he had proven to his brother that he was resilient enough to make his way up and down the three flights of stairs several times a day, but he had also fallen prey to a much bigger problem: he cared too much about what his brother thought of him. Any time his brother picked on him, Ralf felt obligated to prove him wrong.
If Henry made fun of Ralf's hair, Ralf would then cut his hair differently. If Henry boasted about his achievements in archery, Ralf would practice every day for hours until his arrow never missed the target. If Henry teased Ralf about his smaller build, Ralf would try his hardest to bulk up. He once ate an entire loaf of bread and two hefty portions of steak in an attempt to put some more meat on his bones. However, none of this helped him bulk up, though it did successfully make him sick several times. Ralf was naturally smaller in frame, regardless of what he ate or how much he worked out.
As Ralf approached the top of the staircase, he paused for a moment to catch his breath. He hated entering the hallway with heavy breathing and a sweaty forehead. After a moment, he wiped away the beads of sweat from his brow and checked to make sure his breathing was regular. When he was satisfied, he continued walking up the last few steps until he rounded the corner and was finally on the third floor.
The long, gloriously lit marble hallway never ceased to amaze Ralf. He was constantly overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the architecture around him. And when he was outside he was overtaken by the color and life of nature around him.
As he looked up at the arched ceiling, which was painted skillfully by Lyran's most renowned artist, he began to notice a change in the atmosphere.
His sister was quickly approaching and it was clear she was trying to walk at a much faster pace than the six guards that were following behind her. Even from a distance Ralf could tell that Elysia was upset. Her pace was fast, her face was pink with anger, and her arms swayed rather violently with her strides.
When they met in the middle of the hallway, Elysia stopped to converse with him. "How was training?" There was a hint of annoyance on her tongue.
Ralf hesitated before responding. For some reason, unknown to Ralf, Elysia often acted jealous of him. Though it was obvious she loved him dearly and would never wish him ill, Elysia had identity struggles of her own. She was constantly trying to prove herself to King Alan and always felt under-appreciated. Ralf could relate in his own way, but ironically, each twin was sometimes a little bit jealous of the other. Yet at the end of the day, they only wanted what was best for each other.
"Training was okay" he lied, deciding it was better to give the quick answer rather than droning on about his struggles.
Elysia was eager to vent and small talk would only delay such a thing. "Well I'm glad your day is going decently," she began. "Last night father caught me sneaking out again. Only this time, he's gone completely mad. Not only has he punished me with an additional two guards constantly following me," she looked behind her to confirm their presence. "But he said he's got something else in mind now. Apparently I'll find out tomorrow what his little idea is."
"Did he hint at anything in particular?" Ralf asked curiously.
Elysia shook her head. "All he said was that I wouldn't be able to sneak out anymore, that he had finally found 'the answer to all our problems'. Whatever that means."
"I'm sure he wouldn't do anything too drastic," Ralf said soothingly, doing his best to be the voice of reason.
"Not do anything drastic? Ralf, I have six trained Lyran soldiers standing directly behind me, listening to every word I say, following me wherever I go. The only peace I have is at night, when I'm alone in my bedroom, and even then there is a constant patrol outside my door. I don't think our father understands anything but the word "'drastic.'"
"I'm sure it's just a temporary precaution. Maybe he'll surprise you with a longer leash?" Ralf did his best to send his sister happier emotions, but she was pushing them away easily.
As children, the twins had realized their bond was more than just genetics. Ralf and Elysia were able to communicate telepathically, just like Ralf could with Mirum. This allowed Ralf to be able to send some encouragement not only through words, but through emotions. Often when Elysia would be scared as a child, Ralf would send her images or emotions of happiness until she was laughing at the things that once scared her.
But now Elysia's temper outweighed her ability to be persuaded by any telepathic efforts on his end.
"I appreciate the effort, but I don't think you can make me feel happy right now."
Ralf shrugged, "It was worth a try."
They both let out a breath as they attempted to regain a lighter mood.
"So have you seen Henry's new bride-to-be?" Elysia asked, her eyes taking on a lighter and brighter spirit.
Ralf shook his head in response. "Have you?"
"No, I've been busy trying to outrun these guys behind me. But she should be here any time now, right?"
"Yes, that's why I came up, so I could change into something nicer. What about you?"
"I have to go in to town to tell Phillip that I probably won't be able to give his family anything else for a while. Not with this new idea of Dad's." Elysia's eyes saddened once again at the thought.
"Well tell Phil I say hi. I feel bad I haven't been going with you lately, but you know how Dad only allows us to go three times a month. I know you go more often than he allows and I feel bad I don't do the same. Anyway, I'll see you later tonight at dinner."
The two of them shared a few more words and then departed, Ralf going to his bedroom to prepare to meet this Princess Karolina. Ralf wondered if the Princess was as beautiful as Henry claimed her to be, despite the fact that Henry himself had yet to even meet her. Ralf never cared much for the physical appearance of others, he only cherished what lie beneath. Yet he almost hoped that the Princess would be an ugly troll, just so his brother would be quiet for a while. The idea made him smile, and he hurried to finish changing.