The Kingdom of Aelin was usually a colourful kingdom, full of joy and buzzing with life. But ever since
King Malik had fallen ill, the kingdom had become subdued and quiet, dreading a moment that was
sure to come soon, though no one knew when.


The King was fatally ill. It was almost certain that he would die, until one day a stranger came to the
castle, telling of the one thing that could save King Malik. It was a rose called the Healing Rose,
which grew deep within The Unforgiving Mountains, guarded by the fearsome dragon Apalora. It
bloomed throughout Spring, and could only be used at the Spring Solstice, otherwise, the sick
person’s fate was sealed.


The Queen was busy looking after her husband, and the Prince was ruling the country in the King’s
place. The only man brave enough to volunteer for the job was the young Arjan, leader of the King’s
Archery Force. He was tall for a commoner Elf, with messy black hair and startling green eyes. And,
he reasoned, he was a Dragon Whisperer, so he had the highest chance of getting the Rose from
Apalora.


And that was how he found himself in the castle’s courtyard, saddling his chestnut stallion Legend,
on the dawn six days before the Spring Solstice. As he finished double-checking his girth, he heard
the sound of hooves clopping on the cobblestones behind him. He turned his head and saw a black
mare named Nightshine being led by his best friend Alessia. She had dark red hair which she wore in
a waterfall braid, deep hazel eyes, and a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was
wearing brown breeches, soft brown leather boots, a light green shirt with a dark leather belt, a grey
cloak, and brown leather braces on her forearms. On the left side of her belt hung her sword, and on the right, she carried a dagger, both weapons she could wield with extreme skill, and she was a scary
sight to behold when she wielded them.

“So, ready to go?” She asked him as she stopped next to him, taking her weapons off her belt, and
attaching them to her saddle.

Immediately Arjan saw where she was headed. “Alessia there is no way in this world that you-”
“Oh, I think there’s a pretty good chance I’m coming with you.” She replied, “The Queen herself sent
me to come with you.”


He raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh, really?” He asked.


Alessia swung up into her saddle. “Well, you’ll need a girl to save your butt multiple times.” She replied, “Might as well be me.”


“Listen, I don’t doubt your skills with the sword and dagger, but it’ll be much safer for you here in
Aelin, helping the Queen.” Arjan said, slinging his bow and quiver full of arrows over his shoulder.


“I don’t think so.” She answered. “Race you to the gates!”


Before he had time to register her words, Alessia and Nightshine were already halfway across the
courtyard. Arjan cursed silently and quickly finished attaching his daggers to the saddle. Then he
swung up onto the saddle, nudging Legend into a trot before he had found his other stirrup. He
found his other stirrup and urged Legend into a canter. He felt his horse’s stride lengthen
underneath him, and smiled as the chestnut stallion tossed his head and snorted, fighting against
Arjan’s control on the reins. He hadn’t ridden in so long, and it felt good to be back in the saddle.
As they cantered through the quiet village, there was no sign of Alessia and Nightshine anywhere.
They’re probably at the gate already, he thought, and he was correct. When he came in sight of the
gates, he saw Alessia waiting for him. Her cloak was blowing gently in the wind, making her look like
a proud warrior in the early morning sunlight. Nightshine stood tall, proud, and alert, ready to run.


Her luxurious mane and tail were blowing lightly in the wind, the sun reflecting off her glistening
midnight black coat.


“At the pace you were riding the King would’ve been long dead.” Alessia teased as Arjan reached
her.


“Yeah, well, it wasn’t a fair race seeing as you just took off without warning.” Arjan answered her. He
got out his map and traced his finger along the road they were to be taking. Legend was getting
impatient with all the standing around.


“Easy boy.” Arjan said, “We’ll be on our way soon.”


“What route are we taking?” Alessia asked. “The Queen told me we were going to The Unforgiving Mountains, but she didn’t say which route we’re taking.”


“The fastest way is to ride Southwest until we reach the River of Unshed Tears. Then we cross over
the river and find Apalora.”


“Trying to cross the River of Unshed Tears would be suicide Arjan!” Alessia exclaimed. “Couldn’t we
try getting there through the Cliffs?”

“No, because one: we don’t have the time to travel by boat, and two: the Impassable Cliffs are called
the Impassable Cliffs for a reason.” Arjan answered her. “Now, are we going to stand around all day
long or are we going to go?”


Alessia grinned at him and clicked her tongue. Instantly Nightshine sprang away into a canter,
lengthening her stride as she went downhill. Legend took off just after her, and both horses were in
a full-out gallop when they were down the hill. They stayed by the pattern that every horseman
learned when he was young: gallop for an hour, trot for an hour, canter for an hour, walk for an
hour, and then rest for about an hour. The pattern was designed so that when the first pattern was
done, the riders could stop, eat, and drink. The horses were unsaddled during the break, to give
them time to cool down. Fortunately for Arjan and Alessia their horses were extremely fit, and they
could’ve kept up the pace for the entire day.


They rode on into the night, then made camp and ate dinner. They refilled their water bottles and
took turns to keep watch while the other person slept. They awoke at the break of dawn the next
morning and packed up the camp. They saddled Nightshine and Legend and continued following the
same pattern that they had the day before. By nightfall, they had reached the River of Unshed Tears.


“Any idea how we’re getting across?” Alessia asked as they made camp for the night.


“I’ll tell you in the morning.” Arjan said. “I promise.” He added, seeing that Alessia was about to
protest. “Just trust me, all right?” She gave a half-hearted shrug and took some water for the horses.
During the night they took turns to keep watch, though they didn’t sleep as soundly as they had the
night before. The rushing of water over stones was soothing, but a sound tugged at the listener’s
subconsciousness, keeping them on edge. Neither Arjan nor Alessia could place the sound until Arjan
remembered a legend he had heard as a boy. The river was called the River of Unshed Tears because
the eerie noise sounded like people crying. With that thought in mind, neither of them wanted to
ever see anybody crying again.


Morning came, and it was time to pack up camp and cross the river. They saddled their horses and
stood at the shore of the river.


“So, what is your plan to get across?” Alessia asked.


“You are going to control the water and get us across.” Arjan replied.


“What?” Alessia was shocked and scared at the prospect of controlling the rapid river, which was at
least ten metres across. “You know I don’t have that power! That river is the strongest river I have
ever seen!”


“Alessia, you are a Water Elf, and an immensely powerful one. If anyone can do this, you can. I know
it. I am a mere Nature Elf, and I don’t possess your powers.” Arjan smiled reassuringly at her. She
swung up into the saddle and Arjan followed her example.


She took a deep breath before saying, “I will try. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold it, but I’ll
try.” She closed her eyes and lifted her arms with what seemed to be great difficulty. Beads of sweat
popped up on her face, and suddenly the river was lifted off the ground, forming a giant arch of
water. Legend snorted nervously and backed away a few paces. Arjan reassured him with a gentle
pat on the neck. “Go!” Alessia shouted, “I can’t hold it much longer!”


Arjan nudged Legend and he sprang away into a canter. The riverbed was muddy and full of tall,
pointy rocks that would’ve sunken a boat in five seconds. Arjan reached the other side of the

was
holding up the river. As they reached the other end, the river came crashing down onto the riverbed,
just missing Nightshine and Alessia. Arjan rode up to them and saw that Alessia was paler than usual,
and she looked weak.


“Well done, Alessia!” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I knew you could do it!”
She smiled weakly at him.


“How are you feeling?” Arjan asked. “You look like you need rest.”


“I’m fine. Let’s just get that rose.” She said, staring at the mountains that were about an hour’s ride
away from them. They loomed ominously over them, giving both the elves and their horses a feeling
of dread. Arjan quickly strung his bow and checked that his quiver was still full of arrows. He then
slung these over his left shoulder. Alessia refastened her cape and checked her sword.


“Apalora’s mountain is the tallest one, dead in the centre.” Arjan pointed out the mountain to her. It
rose taller than the others and gave them a feeling of mounting dread as they neared it. The horses
started getting skittish, spooking at the slightest gust of wind, or the slightest movement of a leave.
After an hour of riding, they reached the mountain. At the foot of the mountain, there was a cave
entrance.

Alessia and Arjan dismounted and tied Legend and Nightshine up to a tree that stood
nearby. Arjan took out a torch that he had brought along and muttered an incantation, then flames
sprang up from the head of the torch. Arjan and Alessia looked at each other. Alessia had drawn her
sword, and there was a determined look on her face. Together, without speaking, they entered the
cave.


The cave was dark, and the torch only gave off a small light. Arjan, being a Dragon Whisperer, led the
way, sensing the dragon. The walls were narrow and started pressing on them. Just as they thought
they wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, the walls opened into a wide, circular chamber. Alessia
and Arjan walked out into the middle of the chamber, and suddenly they heard footsteps coming at
them from all directions. Arjan handed the torch to Alessia and nocked an arrow on his bow, ready
to fire. Alessia held her sword ready and stood back-to-back with Arjan. From an entrance that
neither of them had noticed, a horde of Trolls came storming out. Arjan and Alessia both groaned.
Trolls were a nuisance, and they often caused havoc across the kingdom. Arjan and Alessia did the
natural thing. They charged the Trolls. Alessia hacked at them with her sword, and Arjan fired at
them with his bow. As Alessia made ready to strike the last troll, the troll blocked her stroke with his
sword and her sword snapped in two. She gasped and tried to ward off the Troll with the torch, but
she knew it was pointless. Then suddenly an arrow appeared between the eyes of the troll, and he
dropped dead.


“Come on.” Arjan said. “We’re close now, I can feel it.” Alessia quickly gathered up her broken sword
and followed after Arjan where he had gone through the entrance the Trolls had come through. The
walls of the tunnel were cold, damp, and mossy. As Alessia entered the tunnel, Arjan took the torch
from her, lighting the way ahead of them. The tunnel was a triangular shape, and at the first split in
the path, Arjan turned left, almost without thinking. The roof of the tunnel grew higher, and the
walls expanded as they ran. Suddenly the tunnel opened up to a large circular chamber, the roof of
which could not be seen. In the middle of the chamber, there was a hole in the ground, and an
opening in the wall allowed the sun to shine through. In the centre of the hole, there stood a small,
raised dais, where a single rose stood. The rose was beautiful, and the petals seemed to change
colour, changing to all the colours of spring: yellow, green, pink, white, and many more. Even from where Arjan and Alessia stood, they could smell the rose. It smelled of spring, flowers blooming,
fields being tended to, fresh water, and the crisp smell of oncoming rain.


Alessia inhaled softly. “It’s...the Healing Rose.” She said in disbelief, moving towards the hole in the
ground without realising it.


“Careful!” Arjan said as he caught her arm, stopping her from going too far. “It’s quiet. Too quiet.
There should be some sort of challenge...or a trap...”


“Where is Apalora?” Alessia whispered. “Surely he should be here?”


“He is here somewhere. I can feel him.” Arjan whispered back.


After a brief period of thought, Alessia said, “What if Apalora was just a myth? Made up to keep
people away from here? Maybe Apalora doesn’t even exist?”


“Then why did I feel his presence? Why am I still feeling his presence?” Arjan asked, looking at the
edge of the hole.


“Because I am very much real.” A deep and majestic voice boomed from the dark. Alessia took a step
back, but Arjan stayed fixed in his position. A light had come into his eyes, one of admiration and
wonder, rather than fear. Then suddenly the dragon rose before him, and Alessia took another step
back. Apalora was a big and old dragon. His once golden scales had faded into a pale golden colour,
and his eyes were slightly clouded by the mists of old age. He had two huge horns protruding from
his head, and from his nostrils rose thin coils of smoke. Apalora landed on the edge of the chasm,
and lowered his head to look at Arjan, and Arjan bowed low. “One of the few remaining Dragon
Whisperers, here in my cave. How may I serve you?” Said the dragon.

Arjan raised from his bow, and said, “We have come for the Healing Rose. Our King has fallen
dreadfully ill. If we do not get the rose back to him before the Spring Solstice, he will die. He is
already dying.”


“How can I help you, if I do not know your name, Dragon Whisperer? How do I know that you are to
be trusted?” Apalora asked.


“I am Arjan. I am the leader of the King’s Archery Force.” Arjan said. He looked behind him to where
Alessia was standing. He beckoned for her to come closer, but Alessia shook her head and moved
further away. Arjan walked over to her and gently laid a hand on her arm. “Come on.” He said
reassuringly, “It’s all right. Don’t be afraid.” He took her hand and led her over to Apalora, although
she went very reluctantly. Alessia did what she felt was the safest thing, and curtsied to Apalora.
“Do not be afraid. If you are a friend, I will not harm you.” Apalora said to Alessia, and she rose from
her curtsy. “What is your name, young one?”
“My-my name is Alessia.” She said uncertainly, “I am the servant of the Queen, the trainer of young
Swordswomen.”
Apalora nodded and turned to look at Arjan, “You have come for the Healing Rose, and I shall give it
to you, for both of you are pure of heart, and you have good intentions. But there is one condition.”
“Name the condition.” Arjan said.

“When you return to Aelin, you shall tell everyone that I am a fearsome dragon. You had to fight for
the Healing Rose, and you nearly died in the process. How you defeated me, I will leave that up to
you to decide.” Apalora said.


Arjan opened his mouth to speak, but Alessia beat him to it. “You want to keep Elves out of your
mountains. You want peace and quiet. I understand that. We will accept this condition.”


“Thank you, Alessia. Now, I shall get the Rose for you.” Apalora turned around and flew to the raised
dais. He landed and gently dug out the rose and left some of the ground on it. Then he turned and
flew back, landed, and handed it to Alessia. “Now listen to me carefully. To make the Elixir, take five
of the petals, and put them in water from the River of Unshed Tears. The petals will dissolve quickly,
turning the water a light pink. Let the King drink this, and he will be healed. Only give it to him on the
Spring Solstice, otherwise, he will die.”
“Thank you for your help, Apalora. We greatly appreciate it.” Arjan said.
Apalora smiled at him and said, “It has long since been predicted that we will meet, Arjan.” He said,
“You are one of the last of your kind, and so am I. It has been foretold that when this day came, my
end would be close. I have had a long life, and I am ready to pass on to the next life. Both of you will
still do remarkable things in the future.”


“No! You can’t die! Dragons are immortal!” Arjan protested, his voice breaking.


“Arjan, Dragons are only immortal because the stories keep us alive. Eventually, death will come for
us all, and there is nothing that we can do about it. It will now be your responsibility to keep me alive
through the stories. It is part of being a Dragon Whisperer. You will see new life, but you will also see
death. It is all a part of life Arjan. Do not be afraid. Embrace it, and learn from it.” Apalora lowered
his head, and Arjan, ignoring his Dragon Whisperer instincts, hugged the dragon.


“I promise I will keep you alive, Apalora. I will never let you die, ever.” Arjan said with a heavy voice.
When he pulled away, there were tear streaks on his face.


“Do not be afraid Arjan. Go now, and save your King.” Apalora said, nudging him towards the exit.
Alessia took Arjan’s hand and gently led him to the exit. At the mouth of the tunnel, they heard
Apalora say, “And thank you for ridding my caves of those vile Trolls. They were becoming a real pain
in the butt.” Alessia and Arjan turned around and nodded, then watched as Apalora flew back into
his hole.


“Come on.” Alessia said softly, gently pulling Arjan along. “Let’s go.” He shook himself out of his
thoughts and followed her. Their path through the cave went much quicker this time, since they
knew the way. When they got outside, the sun was almost touching the Western horizon. Nightshine
and Legend were waiting patiently for their riders, and both of them whinnied a greeting as they saw
their riders. Alessia and Arjan quickly mounted and rode to the river. Alessia lifted the river without
hesitation, and with more ease than the first time, all though she was still pale after the effort. Arjan
and Alessia made camp in the same spot they had when they camped at the river for the first time.
Alessia went to get the water as soon as they had crossed the river and put it in her saddle bag.
Alessia and Arjan retraced the route they had taken to the mountains, and in three days, they were
back in Aelin.


“Did you get it?” Queen Reina asked as Arjan and Alessia dismounted in the palace courtyard. Her
long auburn hair was tied in a bun, and her sea-green eyes were full of worry. She was wearing a midnight blue dress, embroidered with white roses around the rim of the skirt and the edges of her
sleeves. Her son, Darian, followed close behind her. His strawberry blond hair was messy, and his
grey eyes were watchful. He was in his training attire, and he still had his sword in his hand.
Alessia curtsied and Arjan bowed. “Your majesty, we did get the Rose, and we know how to make
the Elixir. We will make it immediately and bring it to the King’s chambers.” Alessia said.


“How long will it take to prepare the Elixir?” Darian asked.


“Fifteen minutes, we think, my lord.” Arjan answered. “We will have it ready, and we will save King
Malik.”


“Good. Very Good. We will meet you in his chambers in twenty or so minutes.” Darian said, and he
and Queen Reina turned and headed back up the stairs, heading for the King’s chambers.
Alessia quickly took the water and the Rose out of her bag and she and Arjan ran like the wind to the
palace kitchens. It was the kitchen staff’s break, and the kitchen was empty. Arjan got a bowl out of
the cupboards and Alessia poured the water into the bowl, selected five of the best-looking rose
petals, and threw them in the bowl. Slowly, they dissolved into the water, turning the water a pastel
pink. The water smelled of flowers blooming, running water, and forests after the first rain of spring.
Arjan and Alessia waited two more minutes to make sure nothing would happen, then they took the
bowl and headed for the King’s chambers.
Arjan knocked on the door to Malik’s chambers and Darian opened them. The King’s room was a
spacious room, with floor-to-ceiling windows on the Eastern wall, a comfortable bed, a big desk with
documents sprawled across it, comfortable mahogany furniture, and a cosy fire burning in the grate.
Reina was sitting on the bed next to her husband, holding his hand and wiping his forehead with a
wet cloth.


“Is it ready?” Darian asked, closing the door, and looking at the bowl in Alessia’s hands.


“Yes, we did what Apalora told us to do,” Alessia said.
Darian frowned. “How did you manage to get him to tell you?”


Alessia and Arjan briefly glanced at each other before Arjan replied, “Uh...It’s a long story. We don’t
have time to get into the full story now.”


Darian nodded and gestured to the bed. “He’s growing worse every day; he’s knocking on Death’s
door. He broke out in a cold sweat this morning just before you arrived. His heartbeat is very faint,
it’s almost not there.”


Alessia offered the bowl out to Darian. “Take it. He’s your father, you should heal him.”


“No, you and Arjan did all the work getting the Rose. It’s your job to heal him.” Darian said, taking a
step away from Alessia.


Alessia moved closer to Darian. “He’s your father. It’s only right that you should do it.”


Darian accepted the bowl after a brief moment of thought and walked over to the King. Arjan caught
Alessia’s eyes, and he nodded. Alessia allowed the traces of a faint smile to play on her lips. Then she
and Arjan went to stand next to Darian and watched as he trickled the liquid down his father’s
throat. The King was deathly white, and his pale blond hair was clammy. When the bowl was empty, a little bit of colour returned to the King’s face. A smile broke out over Darian and Reina’s faces.
Reina leaned forward and kissed Malik on the cheek.

A few days later, the King was back on his feet and fully recovered. He wished to thank Arjan and
Alessia formerly, and that was how they found themselves standing at the door of the hall. The hall
was full of the castle workers, dressed in their best clothes. The Queen was dressed in a grey dress
with a crown on her head. The Prince was dressed in his Ceremonial robes, with a golden circle on
his head. The King was also dressed in his Ceremonial robes, red robes trimmed with gold, whereas
his son wore light blue trimmed with gold. On the King’s head sat his crown. All of the Royal family
was standing, and Reina and Darian were each holding a cloth wrapped around something long.
Darian’s was a grass green, and Reina’s was a dark, ocean blue.


Arjan was wearing a white shirt with a grass green jacket over it. His black pants were held up by a
deep brown leather belt, and his boots were neatly polished. Alessia was wearing a dark dress, with
long, sweeping sleeves. The dress was long and hid her feet. Her hair hung loosely around her
shoulders.


Funny, Arjan thought, put her in a dress and let down her hair and you’ve got a princess. Give her
any sort of weapon and a horse and you have a deadly warrior.


“We are gathered here today to thank the two young heroes, without whom, I would be dead.” King
Malik’s clear voice carried across the hall, and everyone could hear it. “They braved crossing the
River of Unshed Tears, and faced off against the mighty dragon Apalora.” There was a slight ripple of
fear at the mention of Apalora’s name. “Arjan and Alessia, please come forward.”


Arjan and Alessia glanced at each other, then started walking down the aisle. All eyes in the hall
turned to follow them as they made their way to the thrones. They climbed the few steps leading to
the thrones, and Arjan bowed while Alessia gave an elegant curtsy.


“Arjan, for your bravery I present to you a new bow, carved from a tree in the Pinewood Forest.”
King Malik gestured to his son, who came forward to stand next to his father. He unwrapped the
green silk covering the bow and presented it to Arjan. The bow was a beautifully made recurve bow,
with a soft leather grip. Arjan took it and the string lying next to the bow and quickly strung the bow.
Then he tested the draw weight and bowed to King Malik and Prince Darian.


“Thank you, my lords.” He said, “I shall use it well.” Malik smiled kindly at him.


“To you, Alessia, I present a new sword, perfectly balanced, made out of the strongest steel in the
land.” Malik gestured to the Queen, and she stepped forward and unwrapped the sword from its
dark blue silk. Inside was a deep brown leather sheath, with the sword’s hilt sticking out. The hilt
was wrapped in soft leather, and there were small gems embedded in the pommel of the sword. The
hilt had Elvish runes carefully carved into it. Alessia took the sword and unsheathed it. It made a
satisfying shing sound as it came out of the sheath. The blade was about a metre long and sparkled
in the sunlight filtering in through the high windows. Alessia sheathed the sword after inspecting it
and curtsied.


“Thank you, your majesties, I shall put it to good use.” She said. The Queen and King smiled at her.
Then the hall broke out in an ear-shattering round of applause, and Arjan and Alessia made their
way back down the aisle.

And so, King Malik was saved, and joy was returned to the Kingdom of Aelin. Arjan and Alessia went
on many more adventures together, and their weapons never broke. The tale of how Arjan and
Alessia had battled and defeated Apalora was a legend among everyone, and after a few years, no
one was quite sure what was fiction and what was true.