The Dragon Throne is a hall built for power—pillars of obsidian, walls veined with molten gold, torches that never die.
But tonight, it was not filled with war councils, emissaries, or generals.
Only family.
The Circle Gathers
I—Draven Morningstar, Dragon King, conqueror of realms, breaker of false gods—sat upon the throne. But I did not feel like a king tonight. Only a father.
On my left was Lysera, my first wife. Regal, pale, crimson-eyed vampire queen. She carried herself as though every gesture must be perfect, but I knew the truth: her stillness came from years of keeping storms buried deep inside. Selene was hers.
On my right was Vaelith, my second wife. Dragoness-born, her aura burned like wildfire, though her smile was always sharp enough to cut. Kaelia was hers.
And standing before me was Kaelor, my eldest son. Firstborn of Vaelith, heir to the crown, my pride and burden alike. Taller than me now, wings spread with golden scales across his shoulders, his sapphire eyes held the fire of a true prince. The Crown Prince of Dragons.
He had insisted on joining. "If it is about my sisters' futures," he had said, voice firm, "then it is about mine as well. I am the eldest. I will bear the weight if they cannot."
So we four gathered. Not as monarch and court, but as family.
It was Vaelith who broke the silence first, her hand brushing against mine where it rested upon the throne. "Tell us, husband. Tell us what you saw in our daughter."
Her eyes gleamed with both fire and fear.
I closed my own, remembering the vision that had nearly burned my soul to ash. "Kaelia's threads… blaze like the sun. Golden. Stronger than most kings will ever know."
Vaelith let out a sharp breath, pride shining across her face. "As I always knew. She was born for the skies."
But I lifted a clawed hand, forestalling her celebration. "Her threads do not burn alone. They are entwined with another's."
Kaelor stepped forward, voice low. "Whose?"
"The boy of the Ravenclaw Clan. The human child, Kael."
The hall stilled.
"A human?" Vaelith's brow furrowed, pride giving way to disbelief. "For her? For the daughter of dragons?"
But Kaelor's eyes lit with recognition. "I met him once," he murmured. "A quiet boy. But… his presence felt steady. Solid. Like stone that could not break." He looked at me, respectful yet curious. "You mean his fate matches hers?"
"Yes," I said simply. "His threads shine golden as well. Their lives are bound. Where one rises, the other must follow."
Vaelith exhaled, torn between pride and worry. "So be it, then. If fate has bound them, I will not resist. But my heart…" she shook her head, fire dimming, "…my heart still aches to see my daughter tied to one who is not dragon-born."
Kaelor's voice softened, unlike his usual iron tone. "Mother, perhaps that is her strength. To reach beyond what is safe. If Father's sight says it must be, then we should protect it."
Vaelith's pride melted just a little, and she leaned against me with a sigh. "Spoken like a prince."
But Lysera had not spoken. She had not moved. She only stared at me, crimson eyes glimmering with dread.
At last, she whispered, "And Selene?"
My throat tightened. I had faced gods and demons without fear. But this—this truth weighed heavier than all my battles.
"…She has no threads."
Lysera stiffened. Her lips parted, but no words came.
Vaelith turned sharply toward me, eyes wide. "None? What do you mean, none?"
I forced myself to speak. "I scoured the tapestry until my soul burned raw. There was nothing. No gold, no silver, not even the dim gray of forgotten lives. Selene is… unbound. The world itself refuses to weave her into its design."
"No." Lysera's voice trembled. She shook her head, once, twice, again. "That cannot be."
"It is truth."
"No!" Her voice cracked like glass. "Our daughter is strong. She is clever. She is mine. Do not tell me fate denies her!"
She rose, pale hands shaking, crimson eyes shining with tears. "Is it because she is vampire-born? Because of me? Because she was born of a union that should never have been?"
Her anguish shattered me more than any blade could.
I crossed the hall in a stride, cupping her face in my clawed hands, lowering my forehead to hers. "Never think that. Never. If the gods themselves call her unnatural, then let the gods tremble. She is ours. She is perfect. Fate is blind—not she."
Lysera broke then, tears spilling freely. A vampire queen, sobbing in the arms of her husband.
Vaelith, for once, did not smirk nor boast. She stepped closer, one scaled hand resting on Lysera's shoulder. "Sister, hear him. You know he would never lie of this. Fate is cruel, but it cannot measure a mother's love."
Lysera clutched my wrist, trembling. "…Then what of her future? What of her happiness? You saw nothing?"
"I saw her choice."
Her crimson eyes snapped to mine, wet with hope and fear. "…What choice?"
"Her engagement," I said softly. "Not to Kael. To the other boy. Mark."
Lysera blinked. "…She chose him?"
"Yes. Her decision, her will. And though he carries no golden destiny, though his threads are ordinary, she smiled when she spoke his name. And I—" My voice faltered, softer than I had meant. "I cannot deny her that smile."
Vaelith tilted her head, curious. "The younger son. Ordinary. Why him?"
"Because perhaps," I said, "her fate is not to follow what is written. Perhaps her path is to forge what even the gods refuse to weave. And in him, she found the first stone to build that path."
Lysera's trembling eased. Her tears did not stop, but her voice steadied. "Then I will trust her. Even if she has no thread, she will not walk alone."
It was then Kaelor stepped forward, his wings half-spread, his gaze steady as fire-forged steel.
"Father. Mother. Both of you." His voice echoed with a prince's weight. "If fate will not weave Selene, then let us weave her ourselves."
Lysera turned to him, startled. "Kaelor…"
He bowed his head slightly, not to me but to her. "You raised her, Mother Lysera. You gave her strength. And you, Mother Vaelith, gave Kaelia her fire. They are my sisters. If destiny denies them, then as Crown Prince, I will carve them a place."
Vaelith's eyes softened with rare tenderness. "My son…"
Lysera pressed her hands to her mouth, choking back another sob.
And me? I looked upon my eldest with pride so fierce it nearly consumed me. "Spoken not only as a prince," I said, voice rumbling, "but as a true heir. You honor me, Kaelor."
At last, we stood not as king and queens, not as prince and heir, but as family.
Lysera leaned against my chest, crimson eyes still wet but calmer. Vaelith stood at my side, fire dimmed but warm. Kaelor bowed before us, wings folding close, the weight of crown already upon his shoulders.
I laid a hand upon each of them.
"Then let this be our vow," I said, voice carrying not as a king's command, but as a father's plea. "Kaelia, bound to golden fate. Selene, free of it. Kaelor, heir to the crown. All three ours. All three loved. All three protected."
Lysera whispered, fierce despite her tears, "If fate will not claim Selene, then let us be her fate."
Vaelith nodded, eyes glowing softly. "And if destiny drags Kaelia toward greatness, we will be her anchor."
Kaelor raised his chin, fire blazing in his gaze. "And I, as eldest, swear this: no matter what thread or emptiness, no sibling of mine will ever walk alone."
The four of us stood there, bound not by crowns, not by power, not by prophecy. But by love.
And in that vow, even fate itself trembled.