This was probably the worst headache Myra ever had in her life.
The pain just kept on throbbing and it felt so difficult to open her eyes, but she had to admit she wasn’t sure if she wanted to open them when whatever she was laying on was so comfortable.
What was she laying on? Her used, chewed up bed was basically as good as sleeping on the floor and she could not afford whatever luxury she was on.
She slowly opened her eyes and grunted from the pain the light caused, closing her eyes again.
“Myra?! Oh thank the gods above, Myra you woke up.” The loud voice next to her cried out.
“Shhhhh, just quiet please. My head is killing me.” Myra lifted her left eye open, trying to find the voice that spoke to her.
When her eye adjusted to the light, she dared to open her other one. Myra looked around the room again and knew she was in the palace. The room was large and the walls held those elegant patterns she admired not long ago.
How long ago exactly did she admire them? Her memory felt so fuzzy.
“Hold on, let me grab the others.” The voice said quieter this time.
Myra’s body felt so weak, she wanted to lift her hand yet it felt her own body didn’t want to listen to her. With much concentration her hand responded to her and she looked at it and remembered how she ended up here.
The shadow user did this and he probably only left her when he thought she was dead.
Adrenaline kicked in again and Myra felt like she couldn’t breathe.
She was in the palace and she was safe, she was alive.
Myra looked down on her body inspecting if she had any injuries. Apart from her very sore head, that she could feel some cuts on, the rest of her was fine. Someone has definitely washed the blood off and changed her from the rider uniform into this golden silk nightgown.
Her cheeks flushed at the thought of someone doing that while she was unconscious. She was both embarrassed and thankful, Myra knew for sure her skin has never been this soft before and the silk bed sheets and nightgown gave her the best rest of her life. Even if she didn’t have a choice in the said rest since some rebel decided to smash her head into a wall.
The golden hair of her sister bursts through the door and the moment they lock their eyes together a cry escapes from Myra’s mouth. Her sister immediately rushes to her side and embraces her, gently caressing her hair.
“You’re all good Myra, nice and safe and no one will get you here.” Ayra whispered softly, and she could feel her sister's tears falling on her head. “Well even if they get through the guards I don’t think they will get through dad.”
They both laughed. Myra could already picture her dad standing and ready to fight anyone who was on the way to hurt his daughters.
The bed moved as someone else sat on it. Myra moved away from her sister and looked up to find Imran sitting at the edge of the bed with a small smile on his lips. Behind him was the prince leaning against the wall.
“Nice to see you awake sleepyhead.” Imran said sarcastically.
Myra only felt a little embarrassed that both of the riders are seeing her cry and in such little clothing but she also felt joy that she is seeing everyone so quickly.
“How long was I asleep?” Myra’s voice was so weak she wasn’t sure if they quite got what she said.
“Four days.” Cairo stated.
“You have no idea the scare you gave us.” Imran sighed. “One moment we are eating dinner the next we hear screaming guards so we run to the front, just to find Nythe flying and you between her legs all covered in blood and unconscious.”
It was hard not to feel shame at what happened. Myra knew she wasn’t strong enough to take on the rebel, and yet she still chased after him. For no reason, she has caused worry to her family and has been a bother to the people in the palace.
“It was a rebel.” Myra looked up nervously. “When I was walking around the market something didn’t feel right. I went closer just to find this man dressed in black painting the city wall with shadows. When he saw me he started to run away but when there was no one around, he blinded Nythe with the shadows and well I’m not much of a fight.”
“So you know you aren’t much of a fighter.” Cairo exhaled sharply. “And yet, like an idiot, you choose to chase a rebel and fight him, instead of perhaps notifying the guards or calling for me or Imran.”
There was nothing Myra could say to defend herself. The prince was right.
The royal guards or the other dragon riders would have been able to deal with this more efficiently. They might have even had a chance to capture the rebel and try to get some information. All Myra did was waste the opportunity for the kingdom to get an advantage.
“If you plan to talk to my sister that way when she is recovering I recommend you leave.” Ayra snapped.
Cairo clenched his jaw as he looked at the sister. It was rather obvious he was not used to people speaking to him that way.
The prince made his way out of the room and slammed the door behind him, causing Myra to wince from the loud noise.
Imran sighed deeply and excused himself before he left.
Ayra continued to embrace her and even though Myra was just asleep for four days, she still felt exhausted in her sister's arms.

Five more days passed in a blink of an eye as Myra continued to recover.
Her sister was by her side every second of it. Taking care of her and getting her anything she needed. It was a challenge to get Ayra to stay away from her when she needed to go to the bathroom or bathe herself.
If Myra didn’t have her sister next to her during her recovery, she would have not been doing so well. Sometimes when she closed her eyes she could see the rebel who attacked her, she saw the symbols he drew on the walls and the shadows seemed to jump on her when she dreamed.
Ayra knew something was wrong and asked once if anything troubled her, but Myra wasn’t ready to admit what she saw in the darkness. She didn’t want to worry people further or make people think she had gone crazy from the darkness.
Her parents visited her when they could, but the bakery could not shut down as the family could not afford it. Her mother seemed exhausted, dark circles haunted her eyes and Myra was sure her mother wanted to talk about leaving the dragon and the palace behind, going back to the bakery and away from the danger. Her father instead brought Myra’s favourite baked goods and told her any gossip he heard on the street or anything that happened around the house.
Sayer only came to visit twice, which Myra was thankful about. The first time was to confirm what happened and get a detailed report about the rebel as well as a description of the symbols. The second time he came over was when Myra could stand again. Apparently being injured is no excuse to stop training and if she could not practice combat then she could read about it.
There were a total of five books he had servants bring to her room, each one was old and dusty, and made her want to smash her head into a wall in hopes of going back to being unconscious for a few more days. Ayra read the books alongside and complained about how boring they were.
Imran came over everyday, dragging the prince with him. Imran told her what she has been missing in training and updating her on Nythe, since the dragon was no longer allowed in the palace. While the prince always went to the same spot to lean against the wall, listen to the conversations they had, and not say a single word during the whole visit.
It did not help that Ayra would glare at him the whole time and make comments every time she could as to how he would be better off away from Myra. The past two days she also made sure to comment on the prince’s appearance, it was always either his hair or him looking tired. While Myra would agree Cairo did look tired, the prince’s good looks were not something she could ever find fault in.
It was even more surprising the prince didn’t order Ayra to leave the palace after every comment she threw at him. Instead he completely ignored her sister and looked bored as he leaned against the wall.
Madri was not allowed in this part of the palace, apparently Myra was staying in the royal wing, which only a few servants were allowed in. So, Imran brought muffins with messages written on top from her friend.
Finally though, Ayra was packing her things to leave and go back home. While Myra was getting ready to go for a light jog with Imran as a way to ease her back into training that she would start tomorrow.
After two days of doing nothing but laying in bed, followed by three days of being stuck in the room, Myra for once was looking forward to running.
Even if the large room windows were open the whole time, she couldn’t wait to see Nythe and to feel the fresh wind on her face.
She changed into her rider clothing. Someone has cleaned the golden cloth that wrapped around her shoulders and hips, and replaced her slightly large top and leather trousers. The uniform finally fit and when Myra looked in the mirror she smiled. She brushed her long blonde hair and braided it, some cuts were still visible on the side of her face after she moved out the hair. But Myra tried to look at them as a lesson instead of the shame she has been feeling.
Ayra couldn’t hide the worry from her face when she saw her in the uniform but didn’t make any comments like their mother tried to.
As they walked in the palace halls, the servants smiled and bowed to Myra, which she did not know how to respond to apart from smiling back. It seemed as if getting attacked by the rebel meant getting extra respect around the palace which was rather uncomfortable, since Myra failed miserably at stopping him.
The sisters hugged one more time at the gates. Myra wasn’t sure if she would be allowed to go back home after training or if she still needed to be under watch by the palace medical staff, and not knowing when she would see her sister again pained her. And by Ayra squeezing all the air out Myra’s lungs, she knew her sister felt the same.
With a sigh her sister walked away and Myra was left standing alone. She smiled at the guards and was going to speak to Wamir, but it seemed while everyone else decided to show her more respect, the guard she had a crush on was hellbent on ignoring her.
Maybe if she hasn’t known him for a few years while she delivered the bread to the palace, she would be able to ignore it and let it go.
But she wasn’t known for making smart decisions and she certainly hated being ignored so she quickly caught up to him.
“Did I do something?”
Wamir looked away uncomfortably. “No, of course not.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me like I carry some plague?” Myra questioned.
“Well… I wasn’t sure it was appropriate to carry on our conversations… You know..” Wamir continued to avoid looking her in the eye and with each pause it just made her feel more impatient.
“Know what?” She moved again to look him in the eye.
“Myra! Come here I don’t have all day to wait for you to start this run.” Imran shouted from a distance.
Just like that Wamir got away and she still didn’t have the answer she was looking for.
The closer she got to Imran the more she glared at him, hoping he could see the daggers she was throwing his way.
“Well you either banged your head again to be squinting your eyes this bad towards me or I murdered your family and now you hate me.” Imran smirked.
“Or you interrupted my only chance at finding out why Wamir pretends I don’t exist!”
Imran patted her on the back, then started to jog. “You will figure it out one day. Now keep up you turtle.”
They ran all around the palace, followed the walls, the pathway in the gardens and around the barn. They both made small talk at the beginning, but even with both of them running slower then they were used to, with the distance they were covering they both were trying to catch their breaths.
Myra suggested a few breaks, mostly for her friend. Even if she was the one trying to recover and get back into training, Imran seemed to struggle more than usual and when he started to cough and sneeze, Myra knew it won’t be long before he falls sick.
Of course Imran denied it, said he would be fine and not to worry about him.
When they were done and walking towards the kitchens to grab a snack, Myra tripped over her own legs and bumped into her friend. Just to find out he was already boiling hot with a fever.
After much arguing, she convinced him to return to his room and call for a medic. Only problem now was that she was going to be alone with the prince tomorrow during training.
Maybe she could pretend that she had fallen sick alongside Imran or that her head still hurt after the run.
Even the cake Myra was eating on the way back to her room didn’t make her feel better. But maybe punching the prince in training the next day will.

Before making her way to the training barn, Myra stopped by to check on Imran. He no longer had a fever, but his cough got worse overnight and the medic ordered him to stay in bed for the next two days.
So now she was doomed for two days alone with the prince and Imran definitely did not burst out laughing when he saw her reaction to the thought.
The barn door creaked as she opened it and the dusty air made her nose itch.
Myra looked around for Nythe or any of the other dragons, but all she saw was Cairo in the corner swinging daggers at a dummy.
“Where are the dragons?”
“Well since Nythe started flying, Sayer took her with Brenna and Astarot for some flight practice.” The prince did not bother to look her way as he spoke.
A lone paper was nailed on the wall, on top of it was her name, followed by a long list of exercises she was expected to do.
Well, there goes any hope she had on Sayer going easy on her while she still recovered.
For a brief moment Myra admired the prince. The way he fought with the daggers seemed like a dance, the way he twisted them and moved them around the dummy was mesmerising. Each move seemed so elegant and calculated she found it hard to look away.
When the prince briefly stopped and focused his turquoise eyes on her, she felt her cheeks warm. Myra quickly turned around and began her exercises.
The two ignored each other for half the day, avoiding any contact they could make. He occasionally glanced at her and sighed, whenever she grunted at the task she was doing or when she decided the floor was her best friend.
It seemed Cairo was not aware that not everyone could make push ups look easy or running laps around the barn didn’t break a sweat.
Myra grabbed her sword out of the cabinet and made her way towards one of the dummies. The stare from the prince burned on her skin and his confused face irritated her.
“What?” She growled.
The prince walked towards her and grabbed the sword out of her hands. “Who gave you this?”
“Imran?”
The sword was stunning and she knew it was most likely expensive and maybe belonged to someone important. Yet, she didn’t expect such a strong reaction from the prince.
Sayer has seen her use it and while he looked confused and raised an eyebrow towards Imran he didn’t say anything and did not take the sword away. If the trainer did not comment on it she was sure it would be fine.
“Did he tell you anything about this sword?” The prince stepped closer to her as he questioned.
“He did not.”
“And has anyone said anything to you about this sword?” He took another step towards her, their bodies would be touching if not for the sword between them.
“Considering the fact I have never taken this sword outside of the training area, no one had the opportunity to comment on it, my prince.” Myra stared into his eyes and gave him the calmest smile she could, hoping it would annoy him.
The prince grabbed her hand and opened it, placing the sword back into her palm. After a deep breath, he smirked at her and she swore for a moment she could see mischief in his eyes.
“Cairo, not prince.” He corrected. “In that case, why don’t you show me what you learnt with it so far?”
Myra’s mind went blank. She watched the prince throughout the day and the chances of her doing anything but embarrass herself were low. Her only advantage was that the prince was sticking with his daggers while her sword was considerably longer.
With a deep breath she took a stance in front of Cairo, carefully watching his every movement. The prince looked amused the whole time, but she could see his body tense slightly, ready for her to try to attack him at any given point. Myra moved her feet to the side before swinging the sword at his side, Cairo of course blocked it with a dagger effortlessly.
Taking a step back, Myra tried to think of a different way to attack him. With Imran she still tried to be careful. The sword was sharp and without a doubt could slice someone open, and while Imran was skilled, sometimes his lack of attention or underestimating her did allow Myra to land a few hits. However with the prince, she felt like she could try to go all out. In her mind there was no way he wouldn’t block something. Cairo’s eyes seemed to detect any slight movement she made and even if he looked cocky and entertained by her, Myra knew that he would not underestimate her.
This time Myra lowered herself and kicked out at the prince, in an attempt to make him lose balance. Cairo moved quicker than anyone she has ever seen, but she didn’t let that discourage her. She swung the sword once then twice, both blocked by the prince. She tried again this time by turning to the side and giving more power into the hit. Cairo deflected the hit with no problem but this time, he moved closer to her slashing the dagger at her.
Just in time she stepped back to avoid getting cut, yet again, the prince was faster and moved behind her. Myra felt his breath tickle her ear and his dagger pressed into her throat, any movement and she was sure blood would pour out of her.
“Is that all you can do?” Cairo whispered to her ear.
“Well excuse the fact I have not practised with a sword my whole life like you prince.”
While still holding the dagger closer to her throat, he moved so now he was facing her. The prince towered over her. Cairo dragged the dagger up her neck, until it rested just under her chin, making her look up into his eyes.
“Now what did I say, Myra.” He knitted his brows together. “I like it much more when you say my name.”
Her breath was still ragged from earlier, but she was not quite done with her fight. Myra stepped away from the blade and grabbed his free hand, twisting it and disarming him from one of the daggers. The blade slid across the barn away from reach.
With a satisfied smirk Myra lifted up her sword again and started her attacks. Even with just one dagger the prince still kept up with everything thrown at him. It didn’t take long for the prince to spin her round again, this time he faced her and the blade pressed into the back of her neck. With his free hand he twisted her wrist making the sword fall to the ground.
“Any plans now?” Cairo smirked.
“Short of kicking you in the manhood my mind is blank.”
“Then Sayer has not taught you enough hand to hand combat.” His voice turned ice cold. “Maybe if he did you wouldn’t have been so weak and could of perhaps defended yourself against that rebel.”
In the moments Myra thought they were finally getting along, the prince had to prove her otherwise. She knew she was weak, her mind reminded her of that every time she closed her eyes. The rebel still haunted the shadows for her and there was no one she could blame but herself.
“Well as I said. I didn’t get the privilege of getting raised in a palace and having all my needs tended to by servants.” Myra snapped. “I was not raised like a royal who got a private tutor to show them all combat known to man or was I given time to become master at it. So yes, excuse me, prince, and how pathetically weak I am or useless with a weapon I never trained with or hands I never fought with.”
“Myra, that’s not-”
The moment Cairo lowered his hands and released her wrist, she made her way out of the barn.
Never before has someone made her blood boil the way the prince did. He was simply the most irritating person in Daran, perhaps the whole of Shaya. Even if Imran was right and Cairo was just incredibly bad with words, Myra was not in a state to be able to deal with it.
Nythe has been away from her for so long, her heart and mind now felt empty. The cuts on her head still reminded her of her failure and the rebel could be out in the capital hurting others. If an innocent person got hurt, it would haunt her forever. More than any darkness or symbols.
Even if at first the training with Cairo felt uneasy, she enjoyed their last spar. Loved how she could explore her skill with confidence. It made her a fool to think the prince would feel the same. The amusement in his eyes was most likely due to her incompetence and any worry she has seen in his eyes over the last few days were probably created by her imagination that was desperate for approval.
Somehow, her feet have taken her into a part of the palace she has not seen before. The dark wooden door before her was heavier than for any other room, the engravings on it seemed strange and the symbols were in the old tongue.
Once inside, the scent of old books filled the air. The room was of a similar size as the main hall, but here every bit of space was filled with shelves, between there was just enough room to fit between them. Some books looked new and as if no one read the words inside them yet, while others were aged to the point Myra was scared to breathe near it, worried the pages might crumble from the air.
The silence was suffocating and it made Myra want to leave as soon as she could, but something inside was calling for her.
There was no actual voice saying her name or whispering to move closer. If there was, Myra would have been sure she has lost it and her brain has in fact been damaged during the attack. It was more of a feeling that called to her. To move closer to the back of the library.
With each step the pull felt stronger, her ears ringed and the inside of her wrist burned. The feel of the leather books under her fingertips sent shivers down her spine. Until one book felt just right under her hand.
The book was old and Myra wasn’t sure when was the last time someone had opened it. Unfortunately for her it was written in the old tongue. Even with that, she kept turning the pages, looking for something inside.
Then she saw it.
The mark that the rebel drew on the city wall.
Shadows around her seemed to creep closer, the more pages she turned and more symbols she saw, the room felt colder and the sunlight seemed to disappear.
Unease filled her. Who would she show these texts when not many knew how to read in the old tongue. More importantly if she managed to translate it would they figure out what the motives behind the rebel and his shadows?
Myra stumbled backwards, hitting the shelf behind her, causing another book to fall in front of her. This one seemed to chase the shadows away and the symbols and writing in it were filled with light. The letters shined in such a way Myra considered if someone trapped the sun itself in a pen while writing this book.
“What are you doing?” Cairo’s cold voice filled the air.
“I found these books.” Myra picked up the first book with shadows, but the one containing light disappeared. “Well I’m not sure where the other one went, but this one, it contains the symbols that rebel drew on the walls. I just can’t read in the old tongue.”
“That does not matter, you have no right to be here.”
“As strange as it sounds, I felt these books call to me Cairo. Please just help me figure this out.”
Myra grabbed his hand and tried to plead with him. She knew there was something in these text that would help them figure out the rebels. They would explain the symbols and maybe then, her fight would not be entirely useless.
The prince shook his head as he closed his eyes. “And I’m telling you to leave this place. Now.”
With a deep breath, Myra put back the book she had found and left the library with the prince in it. She would make sure to see Imran tomorrow.
For today she needed to go back home and stay as far from the prince as she could.