[Dragon King POV ]
The world calls me many names.
Tyrant of the Skies.
Keeper of the Inferno.
The Eternal Flame.
But to my daughters, I am only their father. And that is the one title I treasure above all.
I am Draven, the Dragon King. And though I have stood longer than empires, though my wings have shadowed mountains and my fire has carved rivers into stone, I remain bound by the same cords every father knows—love, worry, and the endless ache of watching children step into a future I cannot shield them from.
The Burden of Sight
Once every hundred years, I pay a terrible price.
Dragons are creatures of fire and will, but in me lingers an older gift—sight into the threads of fate. Not prophecy, not certainty, but the woven strands that bind mortals and immortals alike to the tapestry of destiny.
It is no power to use lightly. Every time I pull open the veil, a century of energy is torn from me. My heart burns, my bones ache, my flames dim. The cost is immense. So immense that in all my long life, I have used it only sparingly—when I cannot bear the unknown.
I used it first when I took the throne. Then, when the wars of gods and mortals threatened to end all. And now… I used it for my daughters.
My Second Daughter
Kaelia. My second-born.
Her mother, my second consort, is a true-blooded dragoness—noble, fierce, proud. Kaelia carries that bloodline purely, untainted by the experiments of ambition. A child of flame and sky, her destiny matters greatly.
When I opened the veil and looked upon her, what I saw nearly stilled my heart.
Her threads glowed golden. Bright, endless, radiant.
Such threads belong only to those destined for greatness—heroes, conquerors, kings. But fate threads do not lie idle. They entwine, they seek connection. And Kaelia's golden cord was not alone.
It reached outward, across realms, shimmering, stretching, pulling toward one figure. A boy.
A boy not of dragonkind.
A boy of the Ravenclaw Clan.
I studied him carefully. His name whispered through the strands—Kael.
A human child, yet his fate was gilded as well, golden and strong, the kind of destiny that bends empires to its wake. And between him and my daughter, the threads bound tightly, like vines twining around each other.
I felt awe. And dread. For such a bond means inevitability. Not love, not yet, but inevitability.
This was why I summoned Ravenclaw's leaders. Why I insisted on Kaelia's engagement to Kael, though he is already bound to another. The world may not understand. Perhaps even his parents will not. But I have seen it. If Kaelia is to reach her destiny, it will be alongside him. And if Kael is to rise, she must be part of his path.
That is the burden of fate.
Then, I turned to Selene.
My first-born. My treasure. The child of my first wife, my dearest companion—a vampire of regal blood, who gave me a love fierce enough to bridge two worlds. Against all law of nature, against all warnings of collapse, Selene was born.
She is… the first of her kind. Half-dragon, half-vampire. A being who should not exist, and yet does. My jewel. My miracle.
I thought, perhaps, her fate would blaze brighter than any. That she would be crowned by destiny itself, chosen as the proof that even the impossible could thrive.
So I opened the veil. I burned centuries of my life to see her threads.
And what I found chilled me.
Nothing.
No golden cords. No silver, no red, no shadow. Nothing.
Selene has no fate.
The Horror of Emptiness
Do you understand what that means?
Every being, mortal or immortal, carries threads. Weak, strong, tangled, frayed—threads all the same. To be born without them is… an abomination.
No. Worse. It is emptiness. A void the tapestry itself refuses to weave.
When I looked upon her, the sight almost broke me. For it meant she is unbound. The world has no claim on her. She is not destined for greatness, nor for ruin. She is destined for nothing at all.
No future promised. No ending written.
It horrified me. Because I love her. Because a father wishes only to see his child walk a path, even if it is hard, even if it is cruel. But to walk a path of nothing? To wander without destiny? It is a cruelty beyond measure.
I swore, that day, never to speak of it. Not to her. Not to her mother. Not to the world. Selene does not need to know what I saw—or rather, what I did not see.
She is still my daughter. Still fierce, still brilliant, still beloved. Whether fate acknowledges her or not, my love remains.
When word reached me that Selene had spoken her will—to be engaged to a son of Ravenclaw—my fire froze.
Why? Why him?
The younger twin, Mark. Not the golden-threaded Kael, not the one whose destiny shines like the dawn. No. The quieter one which means his name not be written in history.
I looked again into the veil, searching desperately for something—anything—between them.
But of course, there was nothing. Selene's threads do not exist. She is unbound.
And yet… she smiled when she spoke his name.
"Father," she said, eyes gleaming crimson and gold, "I choose him."
I could not deny her. For though I am king of dragons, though I am terror of the skies, though armies bow before me—before my daughters, I am only a father. And a father honors his children's hearts.
If Selene, my fate-less jewel, has chosen this path, then I will not bar it.
Perhaps fate abandoned her. But perhaps, in choosing, she writes her own.
I wonder, sometimes, what the world will say. That I gave one daughter to destiny and another to freedom. That I bound Kaelia's golden threads to a human boy and allowed Selene to tie herself to a man whose fate I cannot see.
Perhaps they will call me reckless. Perhaps they will call me wise. Perhaps they will not understand at all.
But what does it matter?
For I am Draven, and these are my daughters. I will move heaven and earth for them. I will bend my kingdom, break my enemies, silence the gods themselves if they dare sneer.
Kaelia, destined for greatness.
Selene, unbound by destiny.
Both are mine. And both will walk forward, with or without fate's blessing.
After the vision, I rested upon the highest peak of my realm, wings folded, fire dimming.
The stars watched me. The winds whispered.
I thought of Kael, with his shining threads, and the way they twined around Kaelia's. I thought of Selene, who bore no threads, who chose Mark with nothing but her own will.
And I realized something.
Perhaps that is her greatness.
Not to be given a destiny. Not to be bound to a thread. But to defy the tapestry itself. To stand outside the weave of gods and fate, and still live, still love, still fight.
Perhaps her lack of fate is not emptiness, but freedom.
It terrifies me. It awes me. And it makes me proud.
A Father's Oath
So let the world whisper. Let them question why the Dragon King forges ties with humans, why he binds his daughters to the Ravenclaw Clan.
I care not.
I have seen Kael's golden destiny. I have seen Selene's void. I have seen enough.
I will not allow them to be broken by fate—or by the lack of it.
This is my oath:
As long as my wings cast shadow, as long as my fire burns, no power in Etherya will touch my children.
Kaelia, my golden-threaded heir.
Selene, my fate-less miracle.
They are my daughters.
And that is all the destiny they need.