When they reached the castle, the sun had already dived down below the peaks of the mighty Raskewl Mountains.
Rayma sighed, her eyes fixed upon the beautiful sight. The Raskewl Mountains were just like her- in the dark, unforgiving cold of isolation.
A baker's dozen of baids and mutlers streamed out of the glowing castle, armed with heavy weapons; food, drink, blankets, and... more food! They surrounded the solemn trio, dismounting them from their steeds (Hungry was gently rushed to the castle stables under much protest). So perhaps Rayma wasn't quite alone...
"Ehh," she spoke aloud. "It's much more dramatic to pretend I am alone."
Which caused a few worried looks for her sanity to be shot her way.
"Oh Raoolian Rats!" swore the queen as she emerged out of the castle into the dark grounds (she had swiftly rode a wild tropical fish back home before they arrived). "You're alive!"
She blanched as all eyes turned to her.
"And how very happy I am to see you, dearest!" she exclaimed hastily.
"Yes, Mother."
"Don't 'yes Mother' the queen!" scolded the queen.
"It's improper, Princess Rayma," Ra scowled, "and you should know that by now!"
The royal's eyes brightened with delight. "You really think so? You really think I'm smart enough to know that?"
"No-"
"Oh honey bunches!" squealed Rayma, and she scrambled over to embrace him but-
"ARGH!" screeched Ra.
Rayma stopped mid-step.
"Whatever is the matter, dearest?"
"PRINCESS RAYMA," RA'S FACE WAS BOILING WITH RAGE SO MUCH THAT I WAS FORCED TO WRITE IN ALL CAPS, "IF I HAVE TOLD YOU ONCE, I HAVE TOLD YOU ONE THOUSAND TIMES- CALL ME SIR RA!!!!"
"Ooops." oopsed Rayma pitifully, and she hung her head in shame.
However, before the queen had the chance to oops that princesses never oops, Ra continued on in his rant. "And what's more, I think you're a kudgh fjiiedien!"
A fierce gasp swung its way through the sea of dragons. Even Rayma understood that this was a grave insult. She hung her head even further down till it brushed the cold ground.
"HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY GIRL?!" Rayan shoved his way past a few baids and mutlers to tower over the cowering Ra.
"HOW DARE YOU SAY SHE'S YOUR GIRL AND STATE THAT I INSULTED HER?!" squeaked Ra.
Rayma glanced at each boy's face, anxiety etching deep lines in her teeth. Tragic. She really did have nice fangs.
"Boys-" she began cautiously.
"WELL IT'S TRUE," CONTINUED RA AS IF THE RAYMA HADN'T SPOKEN A WORD, "AND YOU ALL KNOW IT!"
The crowd looked about at each other. No one had really been paying attention to what he was saying, and they weren't quite sure what they were supposed to "all know".
"Uhh... yah," coughed a man, assuming that Ra's statement probably needed an answer but had no idea what he was answering. "The Ra- er- Sir Ra is right!"
A chorus of stammering 'yeps' agreed with him, unsure what they were ' yepping' about.
Rayma's deep orange eyes dulled with heartbroken tears. She was nothing, a nobody. Ra hated her, her people hated her (or so she thought), she couldn't cut Rayan's toe-nails correctly, and... Ra hated her!
Suddenly, the world seemed like it was closing in on her- the high mountains crowded in like swords with their sharp peaks, the servants swum in and out of focus in their smart uniforms, Ra's gorgeous eyes were daggers piercing her... Rayan's love for her shone like a beautiful evening star... wait... what?
"I have to go!" sobbed Rayma, and she dashed away, high-heels screeching as she pounded through the inexpensive marble halls of the castle.
Without even realizing what she was doing, the princess found herself bravely sprinting up the eight and a half stairs leading up to her chambers. She flung open the door, leaping onto her bed. And that was when her heart truly broke.
In the castle grounds, Rayan could hear the jagged pieces of her aorta quickly snapping away from her superior vena cava.
"Oh no!" he breathed. "RAYMA!"
The crowd, which had been buzzing with the murmuring of thousands of people (they had quickly multiplied as the tension grew), quieted.
"What is it, uh, what's- your- face?" whispered a nearby baid.
"His name is Raykan, everyone knows that." shouted a mutler a few feet away.
"Nuh uhhhh!"
"Yahh huhhhh!"
"Oh really?" growled one of the cooks. "I know that it's Raymen, and IIIIII should know!"
This sent the crowd into a hysterical mess, all claiming they knew what Rayan's real name was.
"I know what Rayan's name is!" boasted a young chamber maid who'd died recently. "It's Rakdkn!"
Which caused the argument to become even louder and fiercer. Rayan desperately tried to shoulder his way through, anxious to get to his true love.
"RAYMA!" he cried, his attempts becoming weaker and weaker.
The angry mob shouted on.
"Ray-Raymaaa..." he sobbed faintly, and he sunk to the ground. He knew he had failed his girl- the only dragon he had ever loved. Now she was gone.
"Yeesh," scoffed a voice from above. "Youngin's these days- they always are forgettin' they have wings!"
Rayan's distressed head snapped up to glimpse the old lady's maid flying just above him, flapping her wings irritably.
"Oh," he blushed sheepishly. "Right."
Spreading his wings out with incredible force, Rayan sprang into the air, flapping with all of his might to get to the 848th floor- Rayma's bedroom. The crowd didn't even blink, continuing on with their disagreement.
"What are we arguing about again?" inquired the cook who believed Rayan's name was Raymen.
"I don't know," a feeble, old man by the name of Albus Dumbledore replied. "But it sure is fun!"
"YEAHHHH!" the crowd cheered, everyone joining in to create the beautiful euphony of an excellent argument.
Rayan squinted his pink eyes, searching for the beloved glow of black always emanating from the princess's royal chambers.
"There!" he pointed to one particularly fuzzy, large window.
"Don't expect me to save her!" yelled the lady's maid.
But Rayan didn't hear her- he was already flinging himself through the air.
"Please let me make it in time!" he muttered repeatedly to himself.
He smashed through the dense window, cracking a few unimportant bones such as his skull and left calf muscle. Rayma's head snapped up from her seat on the wet bed- sopping from the flowing tears cascading down her scales.
"Ra Ra?" she asked hopefully.
Rayan came out of the shadows, gasping in horror as he spotted her pale face.
"RAY RAY!" the royal screeched in delight.
That's odd, she thought to herself. Why am I so happy to see my little buddy 'ol pal?
But she never got to answer the unanswerable question. You see, screeching while your heart is broken is a very bad idea.
Her scales began alternating speedily between various colors- blue, orange, green, yellow, pink... the colors giving her and Rayan severe head aches.
"Oh my Ratty Raoolian Rainbow Rats!" the knight uttered the 12th worst curse word in existence. "You have entered the second stage of a broken heart- failure to control what color you are!"
The confused Rayma stared up at him blankly, unable to speak. Her eyes drooped shut, heavy with extreme exhaustion.
"I have to operate now while I still have time left!"
He peered out the window into the night.
"Assistant surgeon," he commanded roughly. "To my side!!!"
"Ugh," snorted the lady's maid as it clambered inside the room. "Ye' don't have to be so dramatic!"
Her comment was ignored. The knight was too preoccupied with his love who seemed to be in exquisite (no not extreme) pain. Rayma's face kept scrunching up, wrinkling, and sparkling like a horrific injury. It pained him just to look at her discomfort.
"Hold on." Rayma heard in her slightly/ sort- of - not unconscious state.
"Whaaa?" she garbled.
However, when princesses garble, it is quite difficult to understand what they're saying. This is why the Rayan completely misheard her.
"You need a watermelon?" he cried.
"Whaa?"
"Of course, my love," he soothed her gently, patting her limp talons. "But first, let me cut you open and operate on your heart so that you don't perish for another trillion years!"
The lady's maid starting tapping her foot impatiently.
"When are we gonna git this there show on da road?" it growled.
"Yahhh," marbled Rayma. "I have a talon- painting appointment this evening, and I don't want to miss it!"
Unfortunately, princesses are also very hard to understand when they marble, so what came out of her mouth sounded like "I stabbed a falcon- eating ointment this preening, and I won't font two kiss mitt!" to Rayan.
"Yes, yes, darling," he cooed, looking worriedly at the lady's maid. "She losing her mind- we have to operate now!" He spoke out of the side of her frowning mouth.
"Alrighty," scowled the maid as Rayma finally fell completely into the Raoolian realm of unconciousey. "Let's mopperate on her!"
"No, no, no," Rayan sighed as he prepared the operating tools. "It's ropperate not mopperate!"
He grimaced as he peeked down at Rayma's worsening state.
"We must hurry," he sniffled. "Or she will surely pie!"
"You mean die?"
"Whatever."