After crying, I feel drained. My head is throbbing and my heart is jumping and I feel exhausted and peaceful. I sit on the edge of my creaky, last-minute cot. My mother walks along, with multipurpose tin bowls full of lentil soup and mugs of cocoa. I know we're in a palace filled with kitchen staff and money, but we need to feed an army, not host a dramatic banquet. I take a bowl and a mug and then start to eat. The lentil soup is thick and savory, with paprika on top just the way I like. The cocoa is rich and creamy, with cinnamon and whipped cream on top. I eat and drink gratefully, feeling as though someone just filled my tank and now I can run for a long time. My stomach feels pleasantly full, comfortable and satisfied. I walk behind a thin sheet hanging from the wall and change into a linen nightshirt. I slide the dishes under my cot and then try to lay down. Flickering lights fill the room, but I roll onto my side and try to ignore them. I toss and turn and wait until the hush of voices has died down into ear-ringing silence. I rise from my cot and tiptoe over to my mother's. I shake her shoulder.

"Mother," I whisper. "Mother, are you awake?"
She rolls over and looks to me. "What's wrong, Lore?"
I sigh a bit through my nose. "I was talking to Father, and he said that he is not my own real father. That Everett is my half-brother."
She doesn't even deny it, just sits in silence for a moment or two. When she finally speaks, I lean forwards to listen.

"When I was about twenty, I met a man in the village. He was kind, and clever, and handsome. We talked and laughed, and we met up often to go on long walks or fly on rented dragons. One day, well, we managed to get pregnant. We had been contemplating marriage at the time, but after a few fights we vowed never to lay eyes on one another again. It declined that quickly. I was still pregnant when I married your father. I had you a few months after the wedding, and we both agreed that we would tell you your true father once you were ready. And about Everett. He's actually your half-brother. I had no hand in his existence. So no need to freak out about that."

I smile a little, and then go to sit back down on my cot. I pull my thin flannel blanket over me and try to sleep, but I cannot get comfortable. After only a few moments of rolling back and forth, I rise from the bed and walk out to the dragon stables. I see all of the scaly heads drooping, eyes closed. Except for one. Maye's big eyes stare at me, her mouth open slightly so that I can see her gargantuan teeth.
"Maye," I whisper softly. "Maye, do you want to take a quick flight? I can't sleep."
She uses one claw to pry open her stable-stall door. "Are you kidding?" she whispers back. "I couldn't sleep if you filled my water supply with draconiary tranquilizers. Let's go!"
I stand along her tail, which she curls up and lifts until I'm on her back. As soon as she flaps her wings, I yell joyously into the freezing, paper-thin night air. We have light only from the stars and from a pale slice of moon. The grass below seems a million miles away. The sky wraps around me like a hug, its cold darkness soothing somehow. My nightshirt is fluttering in the wind, and I'm rather cold, but I don't care; I can't care.

I feel something cold and damp landing on my arm, light as a feather, soaking through my sleeve. I look up and see tiny flakes of snow drifting about, barely enough to coat the ground. Above us, I see streaks of blue light whizzing through the sky. I take in a gasp of breath.
"Maye," I say in an awed half-whisper. "Maye, what are they?"
She laughs a little, through her snout, and a puff of foggy breath takes flight from her nose. "Those are shooting stars. Meteors, Lorelei. They're beautiful, aren't they?"
I smile, my face washed in blue-ish light from the meteors. "They're the most beautiful thing in the whole world." I feel like I've been covered by a soft, powdery blanket. I am at peace with everything and everyone. The shooting stars are the most amazing thing I've ever seen. They represent hope to me, like they've come down to reassure me that it will all be alright.

I've been sitting still on Maye's back for so long, I'm covered with a gentle layer of snow all over me. Maye's face is pointed at the horizon, as well. We just hover and watch. The snow has stopped, and now it's melting away. A pale pink blush is starting to peep its way over the edge of the sky, turning the night's velvety blue into the warming purple of dawn. I hear birds chirping in the trees, and see a tiny furry creature making its way across the field. Maye lifts her wings a little to shake off the snow, and then turns her head to me.
"I suppose that we should go back. We've been gone hours, and you must be hungry."
We glide effortlessly back to the castle. I lay flat on Maye's back, and she tucks her wings in and spins like a torpedo. She speeds into the dragon entrance of the castle, and we part company at the stall in the stable that she's taken residence in. I wrap my arms around her neck in a hug. She stands perfectly still for a moment, but then she lifts a wing and embraces me. We stand there for more than five minutes, until finally she relaxes and goes over to her food trough.

"WHERE WERE YOU?" My mother is livid when I walk back into the room where the entire Red army is bunking and eating. Her lips are pressed together so tightly, I can barely see them except for a thin line. "I've been looking for you for an hour! Nobody knew where you had gone. We thought Everett had gotten to you!"
I know that nothing I can say will smooth it over, so I just sit down on my cot and yawn. Everyone is eating bowls filled with cinnamon-laced oatmeal, but I could not be hungry if I tried. Tiredly, I reach over and hit my bracelet. My armor warms my body and my sword slides into my hand. I sigh a bit and then stand up.

We assemble on the battleground. All remnants of the snow from the night before have melted away, leaving not a trace. It gives me a special feeling, like that snow belongs to me and Maye, and only me and Maye. The Green army marches fowards, standing once again in a line across from our matching line. But instead of a dramatic staredown before an equally dramatic opener, we just run and clash into one another like berserkers. I scream as a Green warrior with bloodlust in his eyes lunges for me. I throw my sword up automatically, slapping their sword away and slicing a gash into the side of his leg. I inwardly wince, but have gotten better at controlling my urges to cry and/or retch whenever I use my sword for anything but a decorative element and a scare tactic. I wipe the disgusting, dark blood from my sword and onto the grass of the field. It leaves behind a thick, sticky patch in the grass.

I look up in time to see Maye clashing with a Green dragon at least three times her size. It hisses a massive blasts of acid-green flame, straight towards Maye! I scream involuntarily as she tries to dodge but misses. The flame sears her left wing. Her wing-webbings suddenly stretch to their most taut existence, before huge holes appear in the webbing. She makes an awful, agonized sound, and starts to drop straight out of the sky.