Page 1 of Elven Oath

Chapter 1

Aodhan

Sparks crackle fromthe fire in front of me, its light casting dancing shadows on the ground as my friends sit close to its warmth with me. My mind wanders, far from the laughter of Falkor and Drago.

Their voices tease, jabbing with the familiar barbs of friendship, but I don’t have it in me to respond after arguing with the council for the past month.

It took so much out of me, arguing my side. Why should I take a wife that I do not want just because some old text says that I should?

“Hey, maybe she’ll be the first ugly elf in all of history,” Falkor snickers. “Imagine, our prince saddled with a round little boulder of an elf. Can you imagine the look on his face when he finally sees her?”

Drago chimes in with a deep chuckle. “And tiny! Far too small to handle the needs of a dragon. She won’t know what to do when she sees what she’s marrying.” He says as he grabs himself.

More laughter explodes from them both, louder this time, but I barely react with more than a snort in their direction.

My eyes remain on the flames, watching them dance in the night, as my thoughts remember the war. The war that cost us everything, cost me everything. The entire reason I’m sitting here in the middle of the woods with these two, bound to a fate I never wanted.

The war between the Dragons and the Elves has raged for centuries. Our ancestors, who were once allies, became sworn enemies.

Blood had soaked the earth for so long that neither side even remembered the cause. But we dragons, proud and strong, refused to bend. The skies once belonged to us, and we believed they always should.

But the elves... they were sneaky and cunning. We had underestimated them once, their magic, their persistence.

While we relied on brute strength, they used the land, the elements and their sorcery to slowly wear us down.

For every city we burned, they rebuilt just as quickly. For every battle we won, we lost three more. And so the council of Elders made the choice to end the war in the only way possible. Through marriage. Binding our two peoples in a way that swords and fire never could.

And that’s where I come in. Aodhan, prince of the dragons, betrothed to an elf I’ve never seen.

I’ve rolled it all around in my head so many times these last few months trying to figure out why the elves gave in so easily to such a peace offering. Surely it’s a ruse of some kind.

They’re up to something, they have to be and I refuse to allow my people to pay the price.

“Bet she’s got the ears of a bat and the teeth of a—”

“I get it,” I say, my voice low but firm, cutting off Drago’s jest. They fall silent for a moment, surprised by my outburst.

I don’t usually break my silence when they’re on a roll. But I’m tired of hearing about the woman in question. The woman that I will be forced to live with for the rest of my life.

An elf bride that is nothing but a political pawn, sent to forge peace between two ancient enemies.

I’ve heard the stories of elven beauty my whole life. The ethereal grace of their women, how they move like whispers through the forest. I’ve always wondered just how much of it is true.

But what do I care about any of it? This marriage isn’t about love, or even desire. It’s about survival.

Our people are on the brink of extinction. The last dragon city fell years ago, and now most live like nomads, scattered across the wilds. The rest are all living in the mountains surrounding my home. The great Sky Castle.

Even here, in this moment of peace, I can feel the tension in the air. We’re not used to being the weaker side. My blood burns with the knowledge that we are the ones who had to concede. We’re the ones who need saving. From the very ones who have been killing us!

And this elf woman, whoever she is, is part of the solution. Her fate, like mine, was decided long before she ever had a say.

Even knowing that, I will find it extremely hard to look at her as anything but the enemy.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky, Aodhan,” Falkor tries again, his voice less mocking.”

Maybe.

I breathe deeply, feeling the weight of Falkor’s words settle onto my shoulders. “Maybe she’ll surprise you,” he says, as if beauty could undo generations of hatred. I seriously doubt it.

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