Raani was educated in Switzerland and in
the U.S. She holds a Bachelor's Degree in Business Administration. She also
obtained diplomas in Graphic Design, Color Studies, and won a prize as a Logo
Designer. She speaks four languages and several dialects.
Raani York works and lives in Switzerland and
the U.S. and travels often.
Next to her writing and her cats, Raani likes
reading, blogging, Martial Arts, skiing, horseback riding, sky diving and
enjoys playing the classical piano.
Dragonbride
(The Dragon Chronicles, Book #1)
Shalima, “Daughter of the Light”, was born under special circumstances. She was raised by her aunts instead of her mother because she needed to be prepared to fulfill the prophecies of the Old Scriptures, which told that she was the only Magician on Earth.
Her aunts carefully prepared her for her obligations and her sacred duty. She will have to get married to the Holy Golden Dragon, the King of the Dragons, a huge Earth Dragon with magical talents. She cannot believe that she is the “Chosen One”, who has to protect the Dragon Species, all of Nature and finally the Earth. But when she turned into a teenager it seemed that the Old Scriptures were right.
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The mountains possessed a dark but seductive beauty, and they lay in
wait for the ones who came through the Fire Hell. The powdered white peaks of
the sparkling black mountain-world watched for them with longing.
The Diamond Mountains gave the illusion of being much closer than they
really were, and many a pilgrim had been lured to his death by the promise of
riches hidden on their slopes. These mountains were so named because of the rough
gems strewn about the black volcanic soil. When the sun shone overhead the gems
made the mountains sparkle and shimmer brightly, and at night they made the
moonlit mountains glow with a soft silver light.
People, blinded by both their greed and the tantalizing glittering of
the sunlit earth, imagined that there was immeasurable wealth lying there on
the ground, just waiting to be picked. However, the mountains never betrayed
the secrets they held. None who had ever walked those slopes could find the
diamonds hidden within the black soil, for the mountains protected themselves.
Although healthy forest still grew in the foothills, the undergrowth
became sparser just a few hundred feet up, and then the treeline ended. Where
stunted trees would normally grow the forest just stopped, as if some unseen
hand had cut it short. All that remained were dangerously sharp, dry rocks.
Just below the snowline, the rocks disappeared, and the glittering black soil
took their place.
Moreover, at the summit it seemed as
if the Creator of All Things had dusted the peaks of the fissured mountain
range with powdered sugar, for they were covered with a deceptively
soft-looking, yet extremely sharp-edged eternal snow.
The mountains never betrayed their secrets...
And if a wanderer were to climb those peaks, going up to the Fire Hell
and searching to quench his thirst at a splashing mountain spring, he would
find no cool, refreshing water. Instead, these living mountains would seek to
frighten him by shrouding the ground with a mysterious fog that made it
impossible to see where he was putting his feet. Pilgrims sometimes drowned in
the sulfurous pools of water hidden within the hellish rocks when the fog
appeared, and if they left the main trails, they would know true fear, for they
would be led down treacherous sidepaths that seemed to take them somewhere, yet
actually led them nowhere but to their doom.
The mountains never betrayed their secrets...
Though many thought they would find the cool relief of the shadows by
early evening, the ascent would continue for another three torturous days.
During those three days, their throats would scream for water, and their eyes
would tear up in the swirling sand. Blown up by the hot desert winds, the sand
burned as it fell upon a traveler's face and skin. Eventually their limbs would
become heavy, and they would barely be able to move; thus, the wanderers would
be forced to crawl on, farther and farther, until sheer luck eventually brought
them to civilization... to people.
In a canyon between two hills below the mountain range there was a
village. It had no official name, but the people living there called it
Alpcateçu, which meant Oasis of the Mountains. Anyone who wanted to climb the
mountains had to pass through the village. A few taverns and inns surrounded
the village fountain, where a market was sometimes held.
Some houses and huts had been built in the wide hills and even at the
edge of the forest... and in one such place, hidden within the woods, almost
four hundred feet past the deepest thicket and connected to the village only by
a sidepath lay the place in which I had been born.
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