to the trunk of the tree as per the rules. As well as from the very tree she lived in. Quite tragic, as the tree was not just a home to her, but a part of herself. What if she couldn’t live without it anymore?
“It was the dragon!” She wailed. “The dragon swooped down and burned down my place. And all the trees around it burned too.”
Unlike the others, she wasn’t frightened when she saw me. She probably hadn’t been out of her tree for thousands of years, and she hadn’t even heard of who I was. Even gossip doesn’t reach hibernating creatures.
I tried to help her up. She seemed to be crawling here, not walking. As I touched her, fresh roots began to grow out of the scorched stumps that could easily replace her legs. In a couple minutes she could walk on them, leaning lightly on my shoulder. Under the long dress, it still couldn’t be seen that she had live tree roots instead of legs.
“Thank you, Monsignor Dragon!”
Her voice sounded like the rustling of leaves. So she knows who I am after all! Then she suppressed her fright because she simply couldn’t run away.
“So you don’t think I burned down your place?”
“I don’t know,” she faltered a little. “That dragon didn’t seem to be gold and…” she pointed to her torn lobe. “He took my earring from me. You wouldn’t do that.”
“And what makes you think that?” I remembered how in the old days I’d robbed mortal kingdoms and taxed supernatural beings. They lived far from the Empire. But I never stooped to ripping jewelry off ladies. She’s right about that.
“It was just copper and carnelian. It would look ridiculous in your treasury. I found it once when I was coming out of the tree.”
“There’s nothing left of your tree?”
She shook her head sullenly. I noticed that one cheek was covered in bark, and her fingers looked more like dry twigs. Still, the dryad was quite pretty.
“I’m Chloe,” she introduced herself with a flirtatious wink. “And I’m not likely to last long, unless there’s a well of life-giving water nearby to help me put down new roots.”
I put my arm around her waist and almost dragged her, trying to remember where there was a well that hadn’t already been inhabited by some malicious creature who had declared himself guardian. The dryad was practically weightless. Walking with her was easy.
“If the well doesn’t work out, I promise I’ll find you a new tree or create one myself,” I promised. That cheered her up. It was important to take care of her now, for she was the injured one, and I could return to the scene of the accident and ask questions later. The ashes of the fire brought some blackness to the sunny day, but I could still enjoy the spring freshness and the scenic views around me. It’s a blessing that the expanse around us isn’t burning yet. It’s strange for me to think so, because I’m used to burning everything, but if this Empire burns down, it’s as if I won’t be there either. At any rate, I’ll be so angry that I’ll probably burn all the mortal domains for it as well. So I well understood Chloe, left without her magical dwelling. There was someone watching us closely from behind, but I didn’t have time to turn around and ask what he wanted from us.
Troubled times
Everyone I wanted to interview came to me. Usually anyone who wanted to report something urgent ended up right in the throne room. They didn’t even have to pass the castle gates. They would appear as if from the ground. This time, the victims acted more cautiously. First, they appeared out of nowhere in the courtyard of the castle. Some brought with them stacks of burnt straw, others charred bricks from their burnt dwellings, one nymph came with torn ears that were missing two earrings. Here I realized at once what was the matter?
The beautiful woman sat down in a curtsy, as if casually pointing to the slightly burned hem of her azure dress. It resembled the color of her skin, and was recovering very slowly. Usually all wounds on nymphs and fairies healed as quickly as they did on their bodies. What can you do, the outfit is part of their skin.
The Leprechauns began to complain to me intermittently. Their chorus made my ears ring. The dwarves looked warily at the stakes with the severed heads of my enemies, placed in a semicircle in the courtyard. Each one was barely smoldering to remind them of my victories. I called this circle the Ring of Triumph and was quite proud of it, but the guests trembled at the sight of it. Dragon trophies are not something that can please the faint of heart.
In addition to Chloe came a few more burned dryads, who apparently were also homeless. They dignifiedly introduced themselves to me and sat down in curtsy. Their names, given one by one, were mildly perplexing. Their names were Cypress, Ash, Beech, Aspen, Willow, Cracker, Birch, Elm, and Pine. Apparently, the names echoed the names of the trees in which the lovely creatures lived. The only reminders of their woody origins were the leaves in their hair and a bit of bark on their delicate skin. They were not burned as badly as Chloe, but the roots stretching from under their dresses like trains spread the smell of burning and ash. To me, those roots seemed alive and silently moaning in pain after the burns they had received. What wonders there are in my Empire? But the injured beauties are pitiful. They gathered in an ornate circle, resembling a green wreath, as their dresses were all green, skillfully sewn from leaves. Only the last two dryads, Palm and Bamboo, resembled exotic oriental queens. The huge green leaves in their outfits looked like greenish peacock tails.
“All our houses are ashes. We have nowhere to live,” Cypress complained. “Yesterday we had comfortable shelter in the trunks. We would wither without them, even if you offered to let us stay in your castle.”
“I could plant trees for you in the yard,” I suggested politely. How could I drive away such pretty girls? Let them stay to brighten my loneliness. I clenched my hand into a fist, and huge trees began to grow from the pebbles that littered the courtyard. I wish I’d realized that I was growing them on the site of mass executions. The trunks rose and grew fast, but they bled. The branches groaned and the growths on the limbs took the shape of severed heads.
Those who watched the sorcery were badly frightened.
“Have mercy on us, Monsignor,” Bamboo bowed down on the pebbles of the courtyard. I’d forgotten that in Eastern countries it’s not curtsy, but bowing before sultans or sheiks. The dryad just stretched out on the ground, sweeping the yard with the leaves of her outfit. “We don’t want to turn into bleeding trees.”
“And we don’t want to die,” Palm added timidly. She did not fall down, but lowered her eyes shyly. What magic wind had brought these strange eastern fairies to my Empire? But I was glad to have them. Like all beautiful creatures who could entertain me in Rose’s absence.
I was aware that dryads could only live in the trunks of their own trees, and I could, with the help of charms, grow sprawling trees right in the floor of my castle’s ballroom in a matter of minutes. But if they would rather live in groves or forests, then so be it. I’ll grow new trees for them there. And it’ll only take me a moment to heal their burns. I heal as easily as I burn. We must calm the beauties and invite them all to an evening feast. Afterward, we might have a hot night with dragon fire that would only light the candles but not burn the dryads, and lovemaking. I’m tired of my wife-hater and wanted to have fun, but first we need to deal with the other petitioners: dwarves, leprechauns, and even a couple of burnt trolls.
“We
