Chapter 15: Life in the Dragon Palace
The Dragon Palace was enormous, a labyrinth of obsidian towers, golden bridges, and halls lined with jewels that shimmered even in the faintest torchlight. From the moment Fay Lorian arrived, it had been overwhelming—yet strangely comfortable.
The first morning, he woke not to the sun, but to the smell of firewood and sweet incense. A dragon maid, petite and winged, hovered near his bed.
"Your breakfast, Master Fay," she said, bowing politely.
Fay rubbed his eyes. "Uh… thanks. Wait—Master Fay?"
"Yes, Master Fay. The Queen has entrusted your care to me."
Fay blinked. "…I didn't ask for this."
The maid smiled faintly. "Orders are not requests."
He shrugged, swung his legs off the bed, and promptly tripped over the thick silk rug. In an instant, crimson sparks flared, igniting one corner of the room's drapes. Fay yelped and threw a hand up—instantly, the flames were snuffed out, leaving the drapes slightly singed but the room otherwise intact.
The maid raised an eyebrow. "Impressive control… and recklessly applied, as always."
"Sorry! Good morning!" Fay said cheerfully.
---
Breakfast was equally chaotic. The palace kitchen staff had prepared enough food to feed an army of dragons. Fay's eyes widened, and his hands twitched involuntarily. A swirl of magic lifted bread, fruit, and meat from the tables, arranging them into towers taller than he was.
The head chef, a grizzled dragon in humanoid form, coughed. "By the Eternal Flame… boy, control yourself! You'll make a soufflé that explodes before we even cook it!"
Fay grinned, crimson aura flickering. "Nah, it'll be fine. I can handle it!"
He tapped the top of a bread tower. The entire thing collapsed, magically reforming into a perfectly baked loaf that launched itself into his mouth. He chewed happily as the staff muttered and glared.
From the corner of the hall, a group of dragon nobles watched with stiff expressions, wings folded tightly. Murmurs spread.
"That boy… the power… it is impossible."
"He is too young to wield such mastery."
"And yet… he is somehow… adorable."
---
After breakfast, Fay decided to explore. The palace was massive: winding corridors, sparkling gardens, indoor waterfalls, and chambers filled with relics that predated even some of the older dragons' births.
In the garden, Fay encountered a small group of dragon knights practicing combat drills.
"Master Fay," one said cautiously, "are you here to observe or… participate?"
Fay grinned. "Both! But mostly fun."
He picked up a practice sword. The knights watched as he swung it casually. The first strike sent a training dummy flying into the pond. He shrugged. "Oops."
The next swing sliced through three targets simultaneously, leaving perfect cuts but also accidentally opening a small trench. One knight groaned. "We'll be digging that out tomorrow."
Fay laughed. "Don't worry! I'll help!"
By the time the knights had stopped glaring, Fay was crouched in the trench, attempting to refill it with water, fire, and air magic simultaneously. The pond overflowed, a small tornado swirled over it, and the knights fled as a miniature storm formed around their feet.
Fay giggled. "I think it's perfect!"
---
Later, Fay attempted to help in the royal library. Ancient scrolls hovered gently as he levitated them to organize the shelves. For a while, it went well.
Then he tried a combination of magic from every race: elf-song for speed, dwarven runes for reinforcement, human logic for alignment, demon energy for levitation, and dragon aura for stabilization.
The scrolls zipped around him in a tornado of color. Fay laughed, spinning and ducking as the books ricocheted off walls. By the time a librarian dragon appeared, half the scrolls were on the ceiling, a few were scorched, and one elderly tome had sprouted flowers.
"Master Fay," the librarian hissed, "you cannot do that again!"
Fay tilted his head. "But it's organized… kind of?"
The dragon snorted. "Kind of is not acceptable."
---
Evenings brought meals with the Queen herself. Seraphis Drakoria, resplendent in her throne's golden light, observed Fay carefully.
"Tell me, human boy," she said, emerald eyes narrowing slightly, "do you understand the consequences of your… talents?"
Fay poked at his food with a fork. "Consequences? Well… sometimes people faint, objects break, buildings… slightly tilt. But mostly, it's fine."
The Queen's lip twitched. "Fine?"
"Yeah. I mean, they all survived. Mostly."
She sighed, leaning back. "You are maddening… and yet, strangely… intriguing."
Fay shrugged. "I try my best. Sort of."
---
One particularly disastrous day involved the bathhouse. Dragon bathhouses were a complex affair: natural hot springs, enchanted water, and wards to regulate temperature for fire-breathing, frost-breathing, and hybrid dragons.
Fay decided to help a group of young dragonlings. At first, he was careful, adjusting water temperature with a spell. Then he thought, I can make it fun.
The next thing anyone knew, water turned into swirling elemental fountains: fire jets, ice spouts, and harmless lightning arcs that lit the steam. The dragonlings squealed with delight.
The attendants screamed.
The bathhouse manager fainted.
And Fay? He had somehow balanced on a floating rock in mid-air, crimson eyes sparkling. "This is the best bath ever!"
Seraphis appeared moments later, staff in hand, barely suppressing a sigh and a chuckle. "Fay Lorian… leave before you burn down half the palace."
"But Queen! It's perfect!"
"Your perfect is exhausting," she muttered, though her lips curved faintly.
---
Despite his chaos, Fay found moments of genuine heart. He helped a wounded dragon hatchling with a spell that stabilized its broken wing. He rescued a librarian dragon from a collapsing shelf. He even baked bread (without launching it into orbit) for the kitchen staff.
The palace slowly realized something strange: Fay wasn't just dangerous. He cared. In his clumsy, overpowered, universe-bending way, he genuinely tried to make things better.
Nobles whispered, grudgingly impressed. Knights rolled their eyes but smiled faintly when he apologized for almost breaking their equipment… again.
And the Queen? She began to see the boy not just as a chaos magnet, but as someone ancient and almost… fated.
One night, she called him to her chambers. Fay entered cautiously, expecting either scolding or another lecture.
Instead, she gestured for him to sit.
"You have potential beyond comprehension," she said, voice softer than usual. "But potential without control can be a curse."
Fay nodded. "I try to control it… but sometimes, I just want to have fun."
She studied him. "…And you do not yet realize the weight of what you are capable of. One day, you will. Until then… I will watch."
Fay grinned sheepishly. "Deal. I'll try not to break anything too expensive."
The Queen's eyes glimmered with amusement and caution. "We shall see."
---
Days passed. Fay's life in the palace became a rhythm of chaos and discovery:
Knights attempted to teach him discipline. He "accidentally" invented new sword forms.
Librarians tried to maintain order. He "accidentally" reorganized history itself.
Dragon nobles whispered warnings. He "accidentally" impressed them.
Yet for all the destruction and panic, the palace felt alive in a new way. Laughter echoed in halls that were once solemn. Even the Queen found herself smiling more often, watching the boy trip over his own power while somehow mending hearts along the way.
And Fay, sitting beneath a golden spire with crimson eyes glinting, realized something important:
I can be myself, even here. I don't need to hide… not really. And the world… isn't so boring when chaos follows you.
End of chapter 15