Chapter 21

21

EIRIAN

T he weight of duty pressed heavily upon my shoulders as I strode through the ornate halls of the Dragon Keep. My footsteps echoed off the ancient stone, each step a reminder of the centuries of tradition and responsibility I carried as a dragon prince. It was a title the earthlings knew nothing about - a deliberate omission the council had insisted upon. "They don't need to know," my mother had said. "It would only complicate matters."

Now, as I approached the Dragon Court, I couldn't help but wonder if there was another reason they'd wanted me to keep it hidden. The events in the Great Hall had changed everything, and I found myself questioning much of what I'd always taken for granted.

The massive doors to the court swung open at my approach, revealing not just my parents, but the entire Dracarian Council. My father, King Alaric, and my mother, Queen Isolde, sat at the head of the long table, their regal bearing a stark contrast to the tension evident in the room. Around them sat the other council members, each representing a different aspect of Dracarian society - military, magic, diplomacy, and more.

"Eirian," my father's deep voice rumbled through the chamber. "We've been awaiting your report. What news from the Great Hall?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for their reactions. "The awakening... it didn't go as planned," I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my mind. "The ancient dragons didn't awaken. Instead, the statues crumbled, and from them... baby dragons were born. They appear bound to the earthlings."

We'd not told them of that potential possibility our Seer had shared with us. It was a weight we hadn't wanted to add to the earthlings along with everything else.

The silence that followed was deafening. Shock registered on every face around the table. My mother's face paled, while my father's brow furrowed deeply.

For a moment, all was quiet, then the council chamber erupted into chaos.

"Baby dragons?" Lord Caelum, our military commander, bellowed. "This is preposterous! How are we supposed to fight the Void with infants?"

Lady Aurelia, head of our magical studies, leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "But think of the possibilities! Newborn dragons, bonded from birth to these earth-dwellers. The magical potential is unprecedented!"

"Potential?" scoffed Lord Thorn, our chief diplomat. "We don't have time for potential. The Void is at our doorstep, and you want us to pin our hopes on hatchlings?"

My mother's voice cut through the din. "This is a disaster. The prophecy spoke of awakening, not... not this farce!"

Voices overlapped as the council members argued, their faces flushed with a mix of anger, fear, and confusion. I stood silently, watching as the pillars of Dracarian society bickered like children.

"Enough!" my father's voice boomed, silencing the room instantly. He stood, his presence commanding everyone's attention. "This bickering solves nothing. We face an unprecedented situation, yes, but losing our heads will not help matters."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room. "We must consult the Seer. Elara's wisdom has guided us through dark times before. Perhaps she can shed light on this... unexpected development."

As the council's arguments reached a fever pitch, I seized a moment of relative quiet to speak up.

"There's another matter we need to address immediately," I said, my voice cutting through the moment of silence. All eyes turned to me. "The baby dragons have already demonstrated elemental breath abilities. One of them injured a vampire with its fire breath. If we don't take precautions, they could seriously damage the Keep or harm others."

My father's brow furrowed. "What do you propose, Eirian?"

"I believe we should alter the magical wards on the Keep," I replied. "We need to implement safeguards to neutralize the dragons' elemental abilities within the living areas, at least until they can be properly trained."

Lady Aurelia nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, that could work. We could create a dampening field that specifically targets draconic magic. It wouldn't affect the bonded humans or other supernatural beings, just the dragons' elemental powers."

My father considered this for a moment, then nodded decisively. "Make it so, Lady Aurelia. Begin work on these new wards immediately."

"Yes, Your Majesty," she replied, already looking excited at the prospect of the magical challenge.

My father then turned to address the rest of the council. "As for the rest of you, I expect you to maintain calm among our people while we get to the bottom of this situation. Panic and rumors will only make things worse."

The council members nodded, some more reluctantly than others.

"I will reconvene this council after we have consulted with Seer Elara," my father continued. "Until then, focus on your duties and prepare for any eventualities. We must be ready to adapt to whatever this new development may bring."

With that, he gestured for my mother and me to follow him. As we left the council chamber, I could hear the hushed whispers of the council members, a mix of concern and curiosity in their voices.

The seer, an ancient Dracarian named Elara, greeted us with knowing eyes as we entered her chamber, tucked into a corner of the Dragon Keep. Her room was lined with bookshelves stacked full with ancient texts, and the unique ancient magic vibrated in her room. I'd always found visiting her to feel like I was speaking with ancestors from long ago. She was one of the oldest of us, having gained the ability of sight, something few Dracarians had the ability to do. Her scales, visible even in her human form, shimmered with an otherworldly light as she smiled at us.

"I've been expecting you," she said, her voice carrying the weight of ages. "The threads of fate have shifted, weaving a new pattern."

"Can you make sense of this, Elara?" my father asked. "Why have the dragons been reborn instead of awakened?"

Elara closed her swirling gray eyes, her form shimmering as she reached out with her mystical senses. "The old magic stirs," she murmured. "It responds to the blood of the earth-dwellers in ways we could not have foreseen. This is... most intriguing."

"Intriguing?" my mother scoffed. "It's a disaster! How are infant dragons supposed to help us fight the Void?"

"Peace, Isolde," my father said, placing a calming hand on her arm. "We must trust in the old ways. If this is the path the magic has chosen, there must be a reason."

"Yes, these baby dragons still hold powerful magic, magic we can't begin to comprehend," Elara said with a slow nod, the edges of her eyes crinkling. Her eyes always glittered, like a gray galaxy of mysteries, of ancient wisdom.

"Elara, what would you advise regarding the living arrangements for these new dragons?" my father asked. "Should we create a separate nursery for them, or...?"

The ancient seer closed her eyes for a moment, as if consulting with unseen forces. When she opened them again, her gaze was clear and certain.

"The dragons must remain with their bonded people," she said firmly. "The connection between them is crucial and must be nurtured. Separating them now could weaken the bond and potentially limit their growth and abilities."

My mother frowned. "But the risks-"

"Can be mitigated," I interjected, seeing an opportunity. "We've already discussed implementing new magical wards to dampen the dragons' elemental abilities within the living areas."

My father nodded, his expression grave. "Yes, and in light of Elara's advice, those wards have become even more critical." He turned to me. "Eirian, as soon as we're done here, inform Lady Aurelia that this is now her top priority. The new wards must be in place as soon as possible."

"Of course, Father," I replied, already thinking about the logistics of housing the dragons with their human companions.

Elara spoke up again, her voice carrying a weight of prophecy. "The bond between dragon and their chosen is key to facing the challenges ahead. It must be allowed to flourish, to grow strong. Only then will they have a chance against the encroaching darkness."

The gravity of her words settled over us like a heavy cloak. My father straightened, his face set with determination.

"Very well," he said. "We'll make the necessary arrangements. Eirian, you'll oversee this. Ensure that each bonded pair has suitable accommodations that can safely house both human and dragon."

I nodded. "I'll see to it immediately."

As we left Elara's chambers, my father pulled me aside. "Remember, Eirian, your role is crucial. You must guide them, watch them, and report back to us. The fate of Dracaria may well rest on the strength of these bonds."

I felt the weight of responsibility settle even more heavily on my shoulders. "I understand, Father. I won't let you down."

I hesitated, then voiced the concern that had been gnawing at me. "And what of the Void? It continues to spread. Dracarians from the outer lands are fleeing to the central kingdoms. I know there is unrest and fear. How much time do we truly have?"

My mother's eyes flashed with a mix of concern and irritation. "Eirian," she said, her voice tight, "your focus must be on the task at hand. Work with the tainted ones, prepare them and their dragons for the battle ahead. Leave the greater concerns to us."

I bowed my head, outwardly submitting while inwardly seething. As I did, unbidden, an image of Aria flashed through my mind. The way she had looked at me after I'd protected her, her eyes wide with gratitude and something else I couldn't quite name. For a moment, I'd seen her not as a "tainted one" or an earth-dweller, but simply as... Aria.

The memory stirred something within me, something I wasn't accustomed to feeling. I thought of how she and the others had thrown themselves into their training, how they'd banded together in the face of overwhelming circumstances. Many had resisted at first, arguing against the fate thrust upon them. But over time, they'd come to accept their role, their purpose - even if some did so grudgingly.

As we parted ways, my mind whirled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The situation was far more complex than I'd initially realized. The Void was closing in, driving Dracarians from their homes and pressing ever closer to the heart of our realm. And now, instead of awakened ancient dragons, we had a clutch of hatchlings to contend with.

But as I hurried off to begin the preparations, I couldn't help but think of Aria and her white dragon. The way they looked at each other, the instant connection that had formed between them. There was something there, something powerful and potentially world-changing.

And I, a dragon prince of Dracaria, found myself both terrified and exhilarated by the possibilities that lay ahead.

Could we truly stop the Void? Or were we, as my darkest fears whispered, simply delaying the inevitable?

I shook my head, trying to dispel such fatalistic thoughts. No, we had to believe there was hope. The old magic had responded in unexpected ways, true, but perhaps that very unexpectedness was what we needed to turn the tide.

As I made my way back to the Great Hall, my resolve strengthened. Whatever my personal doubts or conflicted feelings, I had a duty to fulfill. I would guide Aria and the others, help them bond with their dragons, and prepare them for the challenges ahead. I would be the council's eyes and ears, as they desired, but I couldn't shake the feeling that my role might become more complicated than any of us had anticipated.

And perhaps, in doing so, I might come to understand the strange new feelings stirring within my own heart.