The Dragon's Kiss

"HIYAH!"

Kel grunted as she thrusted an old wobbly rake into a giant thorn bush. With a satisfying crackle, the gray bramble slowly turned brown.

"Nice," Kel congratulated herself as she tore the now-crispy weed out of the ground.

It had been more than four months since she'd first arrived in the obscure village called Tael. The scraggly group of huts and withered people marked the farthest north and west point of Mevani, sandwiched perfectly in between Serin's border and the desolate North.

She'd been skeptical as Dash led her through the snow-packed hills above Serin's capital, but Tael had proved to be the perfect hiding place--a place completely forgotten by the rest of the bustling continent.

Settling into the village had also gone more smoothly than Kel could have ever anticipated. Apparently, Dash had been in contact with some elderly residents of the village and convinced them to take Kel in as their long lost grandson.

The old couple was ecstatic to have an energetic helping hand on their farm and quickly became the envy of the rest of the villagers as they welcomed a strapping young man into their household.

And so, Keliyah of Mevani, former palace guard, princess body double, and war hostage, started her new life as a farm boy.

To be fair, life in Tael wasn't too bad.

The food was bland but ample, and she got to dress comfortably every day just the way she did as a palace guard.

She would have had to cut her hair to play the role, but after days of arguing, Dash had finally agreed on letting her keep it so long as she kept it tied up and covered at all times.

'These people will be your guardians,' he had complained. 'Just hiding your body from them will be hard enough.'

'I don't care. I'm not cutting it!' Kel insisted, crossing her arms.

Her persistence may have been due to the tingling sensation left behind from where the emperor's fingers once caressed her golden locks. Or his words about the golden-haired girl in Mevani that she couldn't seem to get out of her head.

She told herself repeatedly, however, that such silly memories weren't the reason. The real reason was the unshakeable feeling that if she lost her hair, she'd lose the last bit of herself.

One by one, everything she had and everyone she loved had been taken from her. The shimmering blonde waterfalls cascading down her back were all she had left.

Realizing the stubborn girl was immoveable by then, Dash reluctantly caved, grumbling that, for sure, that hair would ruin all his hard work to save her.

Both Dash and Kel were foolish, however, (though they wouldn't know it for a very long time) to think any of their disguise tactics could delude eyes as sharp as the Dragon Emperor's.

So, as winter melted into spring and Calix continued ruthlessly scouring the entire continent, Kel spent her days swinging an old rake and discovering a myriad of new uses for her fire abilities.

Her favorite new use was the ability to direct a fire's heat without the accompanying flames. After charring the poor aged rake multiple times and starting a few brush fires, she'd finally gotten the hang of drying weeds so they became easier to remove.

During the evening, she gave the weary rake a break in favor of practicing with the sword Dash had left her. After experimenting, she found that she could manifest her power to create a fiery aura around the sword.

Now, instead of just using her weapon as a conduit to transfer her powers to the target, she could create a super weapon for herself. Unfortunately, due to the lack of trees (or really anything) in the rocky northern lands, she hadn't fully been able to test the new super sword, but she believed it could perform incredibly in battle.

Additionally, she'd also been working on directing her fire to its target without use of a conduit at all. She wasn't sure if it was possible to create fire without direct contact, but she had a certain premonition that she could do it if she tried hard enough.

"Boy, are you done out there?" a surly voice called across the field Kel was working in. "We've got a guest."

Kel recognized the voice of Harrow, her pretend grandfather. He and his wife, Nesta, were both kind individuals, though Harrow pretended not to be. In spite of his rough exterior, however, the man still demanded Kel referred to him as grandpa instead of his name.

"Coming, Gramps!" she shouted back to the old man, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

She glanced over her handiwork as she dragged her tools back toward the house. Even with the occasional fire mishaps, she was certain her weed-clearing was as good as any man's. By the next week at most, the land would be ready for planting.

After dropping the farm tools in the weathered box sitting to the side of the equally weathered cabin, Kel smoothed her tunic and tucked stray hairs back into her headband.

It was typical for Harrow and Nesta to receive guests. Though the village was quiet and small, the people enjoyed visiting one another and taking care of each other. Now that Kel was added to the picture, guests also frequently came to request assistance from the village's only young man.

Kel noticed a brown horse tied to a post in the front yard. It was plump and lively-looking, meaning it probably belonged to one of the richer families in town.

The prime suspect of the horse's owner was a middle-aged man who lived nearby with his young daughter. He'd settled in Tael years ago with a pouch full of gold and crippled leg.

Rumors of the man's origins ranged from a fallen noble to a Serin gangster, though nobody had the slightest inkling of the truth.

"I wonder what he wants this time," Kel sighed, rubbing her tired shoulders. "Hopefully I won't have to move too many heavy rocks."

Luckily, she had guessed the guest's identity wrong altogether. Instead, it was a man who visited only once in a while without any warning or reason.

Nesta smiled as Kel walked through the door, fully expecting to have to agree to a labor-intensive favor.

"Look, Kel. Your friend is back!'