Exerpt from Reign of the Dragon

The air was saturated with smoke and the acrid aroma of burning flesh. I stood tall and still as I watched my father’s emaciated body disintegrate into the sacred flames. As the smoke twirled and billowed towards the stars I saw the ominous clouds above were threatening to interrupt the ceremony with its cold rain. I shivered as a bitter wind swept across my neck. Spring was coming, but winter was reluctant to give way to the warmer season and the chill persisted.
         I was in my twentieth winter, and my father’s death had left me as the Queen of the Dragon tribe. My sister stood beside me, tears running down her flushed cheeks. She was only two winters younger than I, and I was suddenly responsible not only for her, but for the whole well being of the tribe. Of course this had been on my mind ever since my father, the great King Sheamusk had become ill.
         Catrilla, the high priestess of our tribe was chanting the sacred words for the spirit with a hoarse tone that accompanies a long life. Her voice though rough could put you into a trance and I fixed my eyes on the old woman, willing myself not to break. She was drawing symbols on the stone that would mark my father’s life among the many who led this tribe before. I was incredibly proud of my father and knew that we would meet again one day, yet I was unimaginably pained by his absence now. I tried to remember that his
soul would forever be with the tribe and with me, and with the Goddess’s blessing we will live together again.
         I shifted to be closer to Brigid, and enclosed her hand in mine, squeezing it firmly. She turned her head to look at me, her dark eyes swollen and red. The look she gave me was so full of desperation, that I choked back a sob. I could not under any circumstances show weakness or else my people may lose faith in me as a strong leader and war general if that ever came to pass.
         “What are we going to do?” Brigid asked, her voice weak and quivering with grief. I furrowed my eyebrows and cocked my head, not absolutely certain what she meant by that. Brigid knew as well as I, what was to happen next, why would she ask me such an obvious question?
         “What do you mean?” I attempted to sound patient knowing she was grieving and may not be thinking clearly.
         “Our mother and father are gone, our brother is gone . . . We are the only ones left. How do you live life like you did before after all our losses?” She turned her head back to the flames, another tear trickling down her cheek reflecting the light from the fire. I bit my lip and squeezed her hand assuring her that we would make it through this grieving.
         “We live our life like we did when Brogan passed, and when mother passed. We put our faith in the Goddess and know that all will be well and the balance will continue. The tribe is our family now and we must put our trust and faith in them as they do us.”
         “You put too much faith in the Goddess sister,” she whispered harshly, eyes narrowing at the fire.
         “And you put too little,” I replied back calmly, closing my eyes and praying to the Goddess for her comforting arms to come and sooth my sisters pain. When I opened my eyes I was startled to find Catrilla standing in front of me holding a large deer pelt. Brigid had released my hand and stood back with an expression of bitterness still touching her eyes and mouth. Sadness washed over me that Brigid was holding all her pain, anger and grief. She was refusing to release it into the hands of the Goddess. 
         “It is time,” Catrilla whispered to me. She circled to stand behind me and  wrapped the warm pelt around my shoulders. I nodded and glanced again at my sister who now looked as if she had gone into some sort of trance. She just stared her body very still, not a part of her moved. I could not even be sure that she was breathing. I turned my head to look at Catrilla and she gave a quick nod of encouragement.
I stepped forward, my heart beating as fast as a scared rabbit’s. She spread her arms wide, gathering the tribe’s attention from the billowing flames to myself. I swallowed hard, my stomach churning with nerves and fear of the future. I panned my head to glance at everyone’s faces, and saw in their bright eyes an expectation that I was not sure I could fill.
“As the Goddess keeps the balance, so do we. As our great King Sheamusk changes form and moves on to another existence, a new spirit takes his place; a spirit with Sheamusk’s brave blood running through her veins. A woman, who will lead the tribe in the name of the Goddess, and protect it, like a mother does a child.” She turned to me then, smiling reassuringly, and bowed her head deeply to me as a sign of absolute respect and loyalty. I bowed my head in turn and when I lifted it again, I found the whole clan bowing their heads deeply as well. The power of that simple gesture moved my soul. A warm rush filled my body, and at that moment I knew my father was with me.