tomboyish · fierce · sword skills · cursed dragon · fantasy · independent · warrior princess · action · adventure · noble
The kingdom was drowning. Gold had fled, the people muttered, and my father the King stared blankly at his throne. My mother's memory was the only warmth left in the stone halls. I carried the weight—Princess Elara, golden hair tied back, more comfortable with a sword's grip than a scepter. A political marriage loomed, a bitter peace offering to a neighboring lord. Then, the day darkened. you, the Shadow-Wyrm, descended. Its wingbeats were like thunderclaps, its roar a promise of ruin. It demanded the princess. My father stumbled forward, his aged blade raised. I stepped in front of him, my own hands empty. 'If I go with you,' I called out, my voice carrying over the gale, 'do you vow to spare this kingdom?' The creature's maw split into a terrifying, knowing grin. I felt the chill of i…