The heat from the fire could be felt across the plains and to the cottage sitting at the edge of the forest that was just at the base of the sloping mountain. For the past three weeks, the sun rising in the sky was rivaled in brightness and warmth by the burning wars waged by the creatures of Aramond. Always, the dragon was at the heart of the battles. The beast rose high into the air and burned everything below it, paying no mind to what was burned as long as its prey was incinerated.

Three sisters remained in their home, a small brick structure that had been built on that tree line, where they could farm the flat land and scavenge the forest. It was too dangerous to leave the house for more than tending to their crops. The walls of the one room home were becoming suffocating, even to sisters who were used to being together most of the time.

“What was it this time?” Narissa asked, swinging her legs over the side of her small bed. Slowly she stood and stretched her willowy limbs towards the thatch roof, and padded over to her sister who sat at the window.

Bridgette’s sharp brown eyes had been staring forward towards the fields. She tilted her head towards Narissa and gave a nod towards the smoldering destruction that had been left behind. “Manticore,” she answered. She reached out to touch the window and closed her eyes to focus. “It didn’t survive.” It was the same story nearly every morning. Yesterday had been a griffin. The day before, a wyvern. The dragon was victorious each time.

“Good riddance.” Mariah wandered into the room with a delicate mug of tea that she held out to Bridgette.  “Those scorpion wannabes are a menace. If the dragon killed one more of them, that’s one more I don’t have to worry about coming after me when I’m in the garden.” She nodded to Narissa. “Kettle’s on.”

Narissa looked at her two sisters, who were watching the destruction out of the window and sipping their morning tea as if this was a normal occurrence outside their home. It had become routine. That’s where she and her sisters differed. She hated this morning ritual. They were all fairly similar in looks, with long dark brown hair and dark eyes, olive colored skin that had darkened in the sun from farming, and tall slender bodies. She sighed and started back towards the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, but paused next to the counter. “The barrier’s up, isn’t it?”

Mariah snorted. “Are you kidding me? I’m not letting Flame Breath over there anywhere near my rutabagas.”

“Or you know, our house,” Bridgette murmured. She still hadn’t glanced at either of her sisters, watching intently the carnage in front of her. It made Narissa shiver despite the heat from the teacup that she was holding. “I wonder what roasted manticore tastes like.”

“I’ll never understand how you’re so fascinated by the morning routine. That dragon is out to kill every creature in this realm, and it won’t be long until he notices our cozy cottage and comes after us.” Narissa leaned against the wooden door frame, looking in on her sisters. “And poison. Roasted manticore tastes like poison, because that’s what it’ll do to you if you try to eat it. All of the magic you possess in this house would likely not heal you.”

Mariah raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow, smirking at her sisters. “I suppose you’ll have to ask the dragon to share its breakfast tomorrow if you want to be sure,” she teased.

***

“What is it this time?” Narissa stood behind Bridgette, looking out the window. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the brightness of the flames.

Bridgette shook her head. “I didn’t get a good look,” she mumbled, and Narissa couldn’t help but notice that she seemed more than a little upset that she didn’t see all of the action. The fire did seem to be further away this time. Maybe the wards that Mariah had set up in the garden to protect their homestead had repelled the dragon a little. Bridgette pressed her delicate hand to the glass and closed her eyes. “It feels like an Alphyn,” she murmured. “I think it’s giving the dragon a hard time, it’s still alive.”

Narissa rested her hand on Bridgette’s chair, looking out as the dragon rose from the flames, its mouth open wide to spit more fire on the alphyn with which it was embattled. A screech pierced the air, and the red dragon dove once more. Bridgette shook her head and opened her eyes. “It’s dead,” she confirmed.

There was silence between the two for several long moments. “Do you think it consumes the entire beast in one day? An alphyn is no small creature.” Narissa had seen the strange tiger hybrid before and had hidden from it; it had a long tail with a serpent’s head to poison its enemies, talons like an eagle, the sinewy body of a white tiger. It wasn’t an incredible surprise to her that a dragon the size of the one they’d seen could take down an alphyn, but she didn’t suspect it went easily.

“I bet it tastes awful,” Mariah chuckled as she entered the room. She pressed a teacup into Bridgette’s hands and then sat down in the chair next to her sister. With one long finger she flicked a dark curl off of her shoulder, and her shoulders heaved when she took a deep breath. “Narissa, stop worrying about this. I reworked the spell last night, our barriers around the house are stronger than ever. The crops won’t be affected by the heat. We’re safe.” She turned her head and looked back towards Narissa, who had taken a step back from her sisters to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’ve got two big, bad sorceresses to take care of things around here.”

Narissa smirked, rolling her eyes. She was the oldest, and was the only one of the three not to have any powers of her own. Mariah had become masterful at making her own potions and writing spells, especially those that would help the farm prosper. That included the impenetrable bubble around the property to keep the dragon and other creatures away from them. Even spiders seemed to be repelled by the spell, which Narissa was thankful for. Bridgette, the youngest, could see things that seemed unfathomable to Narissa. Her predictions of the future were eerily accurate.