Lydia found herself standing at the very stern of the ship, the sound of waves crashing against the hull of the ship, just like how her own world was now crashing down all around her. She looked towards her brother's face, searching for something, anything at all, but all she could see was anger as he hugged their little sister against his chest.
-"I swear, I did not do it!" Lydia shouted through the night, trying to overpower the harsh winds that whipped around the ship. Her brother just cradled their younger sister closer to him, bloodied as she were, but Lydia could have sworn she saw Mirabelle smirk briefly, as her brother responded while glaring daggers at her:
"What, she just stabbed herself, and with your dagger too? Give me a break, Lydia. You have hated her since the day she arrived at our household. Your abuse towards our sister has only gotten worse, and now attempted murder!?"
-"I have never done any of the things I am accused of! Besides, I was the one who went here to be alone, she is the one who followed me!" Lydia responded, feeling the tears coming. A few more people showed up, no doubt woken up by the loud commotion. Amongst them were her father, the Grand-Duke of the Fergus Kingdom. His eyes quickly scanned the scene, and Lydia could see his expression darkening. He always did this. Look at the scene, and just determined that Lydia was the guilty one. Because why would sweet little Mirabelle, her half-sister, ever do something that would put herself in danger? They did not know how cruel and manipulative she really was. Or perhaps they deluded themselves into not seeing the signs.
"Attempted murder against the fiancée of the Crown Prince..." the Grand-Duke said, and slowly brandished his sword. Instinctively, Lydia backed away, until she came upon the railing, the one barrier between her and the cold ocean below.
-"Father, please, I did not do this..." Lydia began, but she found no compassion or room for understanding in his eyes either. She scanned the faces of the crowd that had begun to gather, and that is when she saw him. Damien, the Crown Prince of Fergus, her childhood friend and betrothed. Or, formerly betrothed, since the Royal Family had broken off the engagement a few months ago in favor of her younger sister, Mirabelle. However, even he only looked at her with a cold indifference. Even Damien, who had known her for all her life, did not believe her. No one did.
She felt something then, something breaking inside of her, shattering beyond repair. Her entire life, 18 years on this very day, she had spent in service of her family. Studied, trained, worked. She had done everything asked of her, from managing the household to answering letters and summons to studying statecraft to prepare herself for her role as Queen, but it was not enough. Mirabelle had been such a bright and delightful child, unlike the boring older sister. She also resembled their father more, and had such a tragic backstory so the rest of her family could not help but dote on her. And Mirabelle knew this. She abused it at every turn, relishing in every chance she could get to act small and weak, making Lydia out to be the villain. And the house of the Grand-Duke gobbled it up, left right and center. Lydia looked towards her father, the tears freely rolling down her cheeks. She tried, one last time.
-"Father, please I-" she said, but was cut off as he took another step closer, his voice raised as he said:
"Don't you "Father" me. You are no longer a daughter of mine. You will be brought before the courts in the capital, and then executed for attempted murder of a royal..."
Her heart broke. The man she had spent her entire life looking up to, trying to please. Spared no effort for, worked herself to the bone for. But in their eyes, she was just trash. For a final time, her gaze swept over the crowd. Damien, her brother Lucas, her father the Grand-Duke. None of them spoke up, or gave her the benefit of the doubt. Whatever Mirabelle said, that must be the truth. And she was fated to be the villain, to loose everything to her half-sister, and now apparently even her life. She was done. Done with everything. She had really tried her best, she truly had. But it was never enough.
As her father took the final step, about to apprehend his oldest daughter, the ship was struck by a larger wave and lurched to the side somewhat. The jerky movement caused him to stumble, his hand struck Lydia, and she was shoved over the railing. With a scream, she fell overboard, tumbling towards the dark churning waters. A second later, she hit the surface of the water with a splash, the thick dress she wore immediately soaking up the water, getting heavier and heavier, pulling her down. She fought to stay afloat, arms splashing frantically in the tall waves, as she looked up towards the ship as it drifted away from her. She called for help, desperately.. but none came.
A few of the sailors up on the deck readied the life-buoys, but the Grand-Duke held out his hand. "No... it is better this way. Leave her..." he said. He spared one last look down towards the waters. A final look of contempt. Then he turned, and hurried over to Mirabelle. "Get her to her room, and find the healers, now!" All the while, Lydia vanished beneath the waves. She could no longer swim, not with the dress pulling her down. And so she sank, deeper and deeper, into the cold darkness. She regretted everything. Giving them her time, her love, her devotion. She was angry with herself, that she had been so naive to think they could change. But more than anything, she was angry with them.
She did not want her life to end like this, destined to be forgotten by the world, not even a tomb or grave. In truth, she wanted to live. Desperately so. She wanted to breathe. Had to breathe, her body screaming for oxygen. But if she gave in to the reflex, she knew that would be it. Still, what was the point in delaying the inevitable. She was already dead, it just had not happened yet.
That's when she heard it, a bell toiling. At first, she thought she was mistaken, but then it toiled again, and again. Signaling the arrival of midnight. But there shouldn't be any bell-towers in the middle of the ocean, no less underwater. Then came an odd sensation, and the coldness seemed to vanish. There was a flash of light, and suddenly the sensation of weightlessness was gone.
She found herself on her hands and knees, gasping for air in a pool of shallow water, but the water was not cold at all. Turning her head left and then right, she looked around, breathing in the precious oxygen. She was in an all white space, with nothing but endless shallow water. But she was not alone. As she looked up, she found herself face to face with a massive creature of legend.
Larger than a house, with shimmering white scales, wings and claws and fangs that could tear a grown man limb from limb. It was a dragon, and Lydia certainly ought to have felt fear. But strangely enough, when she gazed up at the dragon, she was not afraid at all. As if by instinct, she knew the dragon would not harm her. Instead, she slowly rose to stand, gathering her breath before she spoke:
-"H-hello?" she said, gently. The dragon lowered its head and brought it closer, eyes that blazed with magic watching her. She could spot the massive teeth, as large as her forearm, and yet the dragon seemed to be... smiling?
"Hello my child." the dragon said, its voice distinctly feminine and surprisingly fair. Lydia had imagined the voice to be... lower, more rumbly.
-"Where is this?" Lydia asked, as she watched the dragon. She wanted to reach out, to touch it, but she dared not. Not yet.
"This is the spirit realm, child." the dragon answered, the voice still gentle, and warm. Lydia could hardly remember when the last time someone had spoken to her with such warmth had been.
-"Then, I guess I am dead..." Lydia said, feeling a bit disappointed.
"Not quite, my child. Your death has not yet come to pass." the dragon answered, and Lydia felt smidge of hope, though she did not dare to hope for much just yet.
-"Then... why am I here, and who are you?" she asked, hoping she was not too rude by being so direct.
The Dragon regarded her for another while, before moving her head even closer, her massive nostrils flaring, exhuming a puff of hot air. Then, she answered:
"You are here, because you carry the blood of dragons. More specifically, my blood, child."
Lydia raised an eyebrow. Her family was said to have descended from dragons, many hundreds of years ago, if not even thousands. It was why they were supposedly so gifted in using magic, since dragons are beings of pure magic. Lydia too held talent in magic, but not as much as Mirabelle, her half-sister. And since it was said that only 1 child would inherit the blood of the dragon every few generations, everyone had just assumed Mirabelle was the Promised Child, as they called it.
-"I... assume you are absolutely certain?..." Lydia said, sounding rather skeptical. But the dragon just huffed in laughter, and offered what looked like another smile.
"Of course I recognize my own descendant, my child. And your blood is the most potent I have seen across many generations." the dragon said, as calmly and politely as before.
-"How... is that possible?" Lydia asked, an eyebrow raised, before she elaborated: "... my magic has never been particularly strong, not when compared to my siblings at least."
"That is because the more dragon-blood you have flowing through you, the longer it will take your body to acclimate to that magic and make it yours. During the acclimation period, your magic usage will be rather limited until the point you awaken. And you just had your awakening." the dragon said. She caught the confused look on Lydia face, and added:
"An awakening is when the individual with dragon-blood finally adjusts and makes that magic their own. The awakening is supposedly heralded by the toiling of bells, or so I am told."
-"I did hear bells, just as I was drowning..." Lydia mused, stroking her chin. The dragon leaned its head in, and gently brushed its hot, scaled muzzle against Lydia's head.
"I have watched you since you were born, Lydia. You sweet, innocent and good child. How I have suffered, watching you toiling away with nothing to show for it. And now this, sentenced to death by your own family. It will not stand." the dragon said, huffing with determination.
-"What... will you do? Aren't you dead?" Lydia asked, hoping she was not rude. She lifted her hand now, gently caressing the head of the dragon. Now that she knew they were supposedly family, she thought it would be okay.
"I may be dead, indeed, but I once served as the guardian and custodian of this world, for a brief period of a few thousand years. The Goddess needed a vacation you see. Point being, I know her quite well, and still meet with her from time to time. I will... put in a word." the dragon said, and this was just a bit too much for Lydia to handle.
-"Thousands of years? Goddess... vacation?" she said, and the dragon snickered in response.
"Nothing for you to concern yourself with, child. But, I do have a request for you, my dear." the dragon said, and suddenly gave Lydia a rather intense look. So she stiffened and straightened her back, ready to hear this request.
"When you next wake up, I would implore you, my sweet child, to live for yourself. You have spent enough of your life toiling for recognition you never received, never doing anything for yourself. So, from now on, could you focus on you, for once?" The Dragon said, and shot Lydia a rather tricky look.
Lydia thought about this for some time, in stunned silence. Living for herself? What did that even look like? She did not know. But...
-"I.. can promise to try, if that pleases you? May I call you Grandmother, then?"
The Dragon smiled, and leaned in again, its serpentine tongue briefly flickering over Lydia's forehead. A kiss of sorts.
"Trying is good. And of course you may, my child. But now it seems your time here is up. Know that I am watching over you, my descendant." the dragon said, as she sat upright once again, looking down at Lydia with a proud smile.
-"Thank you, grandmother... and... I promise to try, to live for me, okay?" Lydia answered, as she felt the world starting to fade again, that same sense of weightlessness now embracing her.
"Do so, child." was the last thing Lydia heard, before everything once again went black. She felt herself drifting, not quite conscious but also not quite unconscious either. Drifting, floating, as if on the torrents of fate itself.
Then, slowly, she felt herself waking up. The sound of birds singing, muffled sounds of people talking from another room, and warm sunlight shining down on her through the windows. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was in a bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows and blankets. Not her bed. Not her room. Where the hell was she?