Chapter 1
“Anna! Get your ass down here right now!”
It was the same every morning.
A restless night of shadows and fire, followed by the landlady screeching like a banshee. Actually, no. A banshee can at least carry a tune. This woman was more a harpy in labor minus the miracle of birth.
Anna groaned, trying to smother herself with her own pillow. Anyone else in her predicament would have done the deed without hesitation. Anything had to be better than waking up to this hell. But, Anna was either too cowardly or too foolish to hope that one day she would wake up and not want to sink deep into her mattress never to be found. That perhaps, one day, she can feel the sun’s warmth and feel grateful to being alive.
Maybe if she had been born during the old days of Camelot. When the Pendragon line reigned over the land with fairness and being a knight actually meant something. She had seen what passed as a knight in this kingdom. There was no man or woman she would ever trust who bore that glistening armor, coated in iron designed to burn her kind.
Being half-fae meant Anna was partly immune to iron. She could touch it without her skin peeling off, but it still left a sting.
But Anna wasn’t just any fae. She was a dragon. A dragon who had never shifted into her full primal form. The qualities that distinguished her from humans were the pair of dark green horns on her head and the scales that dusted her cheekbones, arms and legs. Most dragons had managed to flee from Albion, off to lands unknown. Anna was one of the very few, if any, dragons left in Camelot.
She adjusted the iron cuffs on her wrist, the shackles every fae creatures, by kingdom law, was forced to wear. It was what kept them from using their abilities. Not that it made a difference. Anna had never shifted, or if she had she couldn’t remember. There were no other dragons who could teach her to do it so, for all intense and purposes, she was no different from every other fae. A dragon who couldn’t shift or breath fire was useless in the eyes of most. Useful only for the lowest of professions. A servant, slave, whore.
The landlady screeched again, and this time Anna flinched when the door opened. She bore her fangs and hissed. She may not be able to breaths ire or shift but she could still bite and bite down hard.
“Relax, it’s just me.”
Anna eased her tense muscles, which were still sore from her constant tossing and turning all night. “I thought you were the old bat.”
Tristan, the kind-hearted half-troll boy, held his fingers to his lips then looked over his shoulder to make sure none of the other tenants heard her.
“Do you want another demerit?”
“I’ve gotten so many I should get an award for it.” Anna smirked as she strapped on her workday boots. She didn’t even bother changing into her sleeping garments the night before. She didn’t care if she smelled like old laundry, it was better than the slop they were forced to eat on a daily basis.
Anna long since stoped caring about appearances, but even with the sooth and cinders staining her face, she still carried the famed fae-beauty. Cat-like eyes, green as the forest beneath the sunrise of the first day of spring, natural full ruby lips and copper skin. Her most striking feature, however, was her auburn hair adorned with lose braids.
“That’s not funny.” Tristan said as he tossed her her gloves. Anna thanked him with a quick nod. “We can’t lose this job. They’re not easy to come by.”
“Please, you know they can’t afford to lose you. You’re their strongest buffer. Felicity would be thrilled to get rid of me.”
“You know as well as I do wherever you go, I go.”
Anna was both touched and guilt ridden by his words. Trolls were known for their steadfast loyalty, especially to those they deemed as their family. For all of their hardships, Tristan’s friendship and love was a small flicker of light in an endless void. She hugged her brother and kissed his cheek.
“I know. You big softie.”
“Come on. Let’s try and get through another day.”
“Business as usual.”
The two headed downstairs to the dinning hall. Or at least what counted as a dining hall. It was more of a brothel where the fae workers ate the slop and leftovers the humans no longer wanted or was categorized as overstock in their fancy kitchens. They were lucky most of it was good enough for consumption. They didn’t starve to death, but it didn’t do much to aid in their poor nutritional states. Dryads, who’s skin came in all shades of green, had become dull and ashy, while trolls, beings with skin as tough as stone was so dry it looked cracked. Tristan was one of the few who still looked decent enough, but that was because he got some of the best leftovers to make sure he stayed strong and intimidating enough.
Two of the trolls, brothers Fjord and Flynn, blocked their way towards the wooden plates. “Wait your turn, bastards.” Said Fjord, spitting at Tristan’s boots.
“Brother, be nice.” Flynn said, his eyes landing on Anna, examining her from top to bottom. “Even bastards have their uses.”
“Keep dreaming, slug-face.”Anna spat, spitting directly in Flynn’s eye. He reeled back, eyes squinting shut but then chuckled, wiping her spit from his eyes.
“Not the kind of liquid I had in mind, but I’ll take what I can get.”
“That’s enough!” Tristan stood in front of Anna, who looked ready to rip Flynn’s head off. He knew she wouldn’t hesitate to do so. She still had her dragon strenght, and she was not afraid to use it.
“I insist you apologize to the lady.”
“Lady?” Fjord laughed, his plate filled with the brim with slop. “She’d be lucky someone skinned her for boots.”
Anna hissed and tried to get through Tristan, but he held her back, his thick arms wrapped around her waist as he dragged her away from the two before they caused a bigger scene.
“Anna, calm down!” Tristan released her but kept his hands on her shoulders when she kept hissing and snapping her teeth. “Anna, stop! Please.”
Anna stared into Tristan’s pleading eyes and finally ceased her animalistic behavior. “Sorry.”
Tristan dropped his head, slowly shaking it, not out of disappointment but from exhaustion. More from sadness than anything.
“Anna, you know I love you. I only want to protect you. But if you keep provoking everyone you don’t like you know what could happen.”
Unfortunately, she did know. All too well. She didn’t need to say it.
“I know. I’m sorry, brother.”
Tristan smiled and hugged her. “It’s alright. No real harm done. Yet.” He said with a smirk, which made Anna chuckle.
“Hey, we bastards have to stick together.” Anna said, though the word still left a sting in her heart.
Bastard they called them, as were all half-fae. At least, in the eyes of the citizens of New Camelot. Those who bowed and kissed the very ground their new king walked on.
Mordred had seized the throne from King Arthur twenty-five years ago. Now those chivalric days were long gone. All Anna had ever known for as long as she could remember was a never ending shadow of dread looming over everyone’s head. Not even the sky seemed to shine anymore, cloaked in true suffocating fumes of the new mechanical marvels Mordred had introduced to the land. Metal and iron molded together to form new weapons and buildings that were as suffocating as they were heinous with their dull and withered coloring. Flowers fought to stay alive and trees were nearly stripped of all life. Those that were still alive were rare and in short supply, hence why dryads were forced to grow more trees, drying themselves up creating more wood for their human masters.
In Arthur’s day slavery wasn’t even so much as a flicker in anyone’s thoughts. Now, it was all Anna had ever known.
Anna was only eight when she was found wandering the polluted streets of Camelot by a nagging middle-aged woman. One look at her half-pointed ears and Anna was immediately put to work. Tristan was the first fae to show her any semblance of kindness. Even the hearts of the fae had crowned cold and hard, honestly who could blame them.
Once a proud and noble race, welcomed to Camelot with open arms, one even sat on the throne alongside the king. Now, they were lower than pets. Their spirits broken after decades of servitude and abuse. Some worked the streets, pleasuring humans who were looking for a ‘thrill’.
Anna had a run in with a few perverted men, and even woman. Even if she was interested in woman in that way she would still have found their efforts repulsive. To them she was no more than a commodity, a thing to pass the time and please themselves.
Luckily for her she had Tristan. Before being orphaned at twelve-years-old his father taught him the old ways of the knights of the round table. Of course, this information was worthless these days, but his knowledge of self defense was crucial in teaching Anna how to defend herself. Now a days men and woman thought twice before messing with the auburn haired half-fae woman who lived at the workhouse.
The two friends ate their breakfast and got ready for the long day that awaited them. Just another day in New Camelot
