Sæhildr peeked outside her window just long enough to see the horror happening in her town. She was braver, stronger, smarter, and more curious than the other girls. None of those talents could help her now. All she could do was hide and watch. She grasped Frigga, her red haired doll, tighter. She closed her eyes, hearing the cries of the townspeople and the screeches of the.... Dragons.

She never thought that she would be the one survivor. She thought someone else would be it, like the Chief's son or something, but nope! It HAD to be her. Her grip on Frigga tightened. She could feel the thread around the doll's neck start to tear.

Suddenly, the noise stopped. The only sound she could hear was her heartbeat.

Sæhildr opened the door slowly, making sure there were no more dragons. All there was was ash. No bodies, no houses, no life.

Just ashes. It would've been pretty if it weren't for five minutes ago.

She walked through the debris, passing by mounds of what used to be houses. Sæhildr's legs couldn't hold her anymore. She collapsed. She was sitting in front of a large pile of ashes when she heard the beating of wings.

More dragons.

She hid behind some ash, probably a marketplace, and waited for the worst to come.

Two owl-like dragons swooped down gracefully and sniffed the wreckage. Their eyes looked almost as if they felt sorry for her tribe.

Suddenly, one walked towards her. Sæhildr was paralyzed with fear. She grabbed a plank of wood and held it like a sword. She may have been young, but she knew how to use weapons. The dragon peeked its head around the pile, and Sæhildr heaved the stick at it. Unfortunately, she missed. The dragon bounded towards the wood, then returned it to her. Up close, the dragon was easier to view. It had bright orange scales and an owl like head. Sæhildr gently lifted her hand to touch the beast, but she got much more that. In seconds, she was in the sky, flying to who knows where.