Chosen By The Dragon Kings

Sixty One

Elora’s POV

We are the sacrifice, yet I felt no fear of death, felt nothing but complete faith in her words and a strong

urge to fulfil the prophecy, my grandmothers reassuring voice in my head, feel the whispers of my

ancestors washing over me like a breeze, the voices carried with it growing stronger, and louder filling

me and giving me, a sense of calm and I drop to my knees in front of her. She tips the goblet to my lips

and I drink from it, feel the magic in the blood bleeding into my soul changing it.

Claire places the goblet down on the small table before grabbing the dagger, I reach for her as she slits

her own throat, the dagger falling from her little hands as her body falls on top of me, Abigail’s blood

curdling scream, full of anguish and heartache filling the night. And I whisper the last be piece

“I Elora Aziza forgive the sins and right the wrongs of the past, for I shall fall, for the balance to be

restored, for we are reborn, and we shall rise” Grabbing the dagger, I feel the coldness of the blade as

it runs across my skin as cut my throat, my life’s blood spilling out of me. The screams of everybody

surrounding us, my eyes dart to Claire on my lap and the last sounds, I remember were the screams of

our loved ones, the whispers of our ancestors and my last dying breath.

Abigail’s POV This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I watched horrified as my daughter slashed her throat, Elora watching, and I couldn’t decipher her

expression. Her life bleeding out of her and I scream. My soul shattering watching my precious little girl

so full of life just sacrifice herself without hesitation. Heart shattering and soul crushing pain destroying

me as I watch her skin pale, everything happening in the blink of an eye. Silas agonised scream and I

see the Dragon kings run toward them, Elora sacrificing herself, running the blade tarnished with my

daughters blood across her throat.

One by one the Dragon Kings fall to their knees, horrified at what she had done. I watch each one of

them fall, a deafening scream leaving each of them as they clutch theirs chests dropping dead along

with her. Murmurs from the crowd of shocked onlookers. None of the legends I had heard were like this

to break the curse on the Dragons. I should have known better, should have seen this, should have

went with my gut. This wasn’t the spell to break the curse on the Dragon’s. This was the spell to break

the curse on Fae.

Rushing to my daughter, I cradle her to my chest. My mother’s tormented scream coming from the

crowd as I hold her limp body in my arms. “Mama” I sob tears rolling down my face as she rushes over

clutching us. My little girl was gone, but why couldn’t I feel her death. I could see her dead in my arms,

yet I could still feel her energy with me. Still feel Elora’s and that of the dragon kings. The crowd goes

silent. Nobody knows what to do, or what they just witnessed.

We just watched the fall of the Dragon kings, the fall of a kingdom of horror. That’s when I first noticed

them. People in crowd dropping like flies, collapsing amongst those watching. Was this the end. Were

we all destined to die? My mother brushes my daughter’s hair from her face. The face of angel though

she didn’t look dead despite the blood covering her, no she looked at peace, asleep.

My mother gets up, turning Elora’s face toward her and I notice her Fae markings changing to a deeper

purple, blossoms spreading across her cheek and down her neck. Magic running rampant in her veins,

feel it growing stronger and I watch as the cut on her neck heals.

My mother rushes over to the Dragon kings kneeling next to them, they to were changing, the same

marking spreading like wildfire across their bare chests only red and angry.

“They are still warm,” My mother gasps.

“They’re not dead?” I whisper looking down at my daughter, shaking her slightly and rubbing her cheek,

the wound healing across her neck but not waking.

“Come on baby girl, come back to me. Come back to your mummy” I cry, praying to the fates that they

let her live. Suddenly I hear a gasp and watch as Elora snaps upright. Her eyes burning brightly,

brighter than any jewel I had ever seen. The crowd shocked at what they are witnessing before Elora

screams in agony. Clawing at her back, her skin gleaming and shimmering as she moves. Her screams

of agony moving through the crowd as they clutch their ears trying to drown the noise.

“Mum you need to remove her cloak” I tell her as I watch as Elora desperately tries but fails. My mother

moving toward Elora and removing it while Elora flailed around her nails digging into her back digging

at something she could only feel, her skin bleeding from her nails tearing her flesh. When I hear

groaning my eyes snapping in the direction of the dragon kings as they get to hands and knees before

their eyes dart to her.

“Elora” Silas breathes before stumbling over himself to get to her, only for him to be pulled back by

Matitus and Dragus just in time for everyone to be hit with a wave of power, Elora’s scream of agony

knocking the breath out of everyone as we are swallowed by blinding light.

My eyes burning in my head, forcing me to close my eyes under its harshness before the darkness

returns and I hear voices of shock and awe making my eyes open. Elora doubled over on the ground

panting blood pouring from her back but that wasn’t why everyone was amazed. It was the wings; Fae

haven’t had wings since before the war. Only the true heir of the thrown and those of the royal bloodline

had wings. They were magnificent, crystal clear, the moonlight making them shimmer, like trying to look

at the rainbow within a bubble. Elora stands up and I can see the shock on her face, she doesn’t

understand what is going on, doesn’t understand how she is alive as she looks out at the crowd.

“Mummy” I hear the softest of murmurs and my heart swells as I look down and see my angel, looking

back up me.

“Yes, baby I am here, mummy is here” I tell her and her eyes flutter before turning white, a sight I know

is her visions, her seeing the future. One I would never become familiar with seeing. My daughter was

not just blessed with the visions but cursed, and over the three years of her life they have made her

have many sleepless nights tormented her dreams.

“The Queen of Draquin has been reborn” She whispers before passing out in my arms, the rise and fall

of her chest reminding me she was alive, she would live but it was to much on her little body.

**Author Note**

Let me know what you think. What the Dragon Kings do when they realise the curse hasn't been

broken.