The ritual they're referring to is when they forcefully unlock the world core that allows the dragons to use veythar.
This is a Qitoran secret that they have kept close as the front line of the new world, and they only share the ritual with other tribes when they send recruits to Qitor.
This was seen as greedy by the Devalonians, but the Qitorans shared certain texts with the other kin in order to ease their worries.
The text said that if the Qitorans let others know how to do the ritual, then the dragons will succumb to the darkness that consumes worlds.
A warning so ancient it carried the weight of generations.
The leaders of Qitor, however, are in a constant disagreement these days, trying to decide whether it's worth the risk to give the secret to the other kin kingdoms to help save Alniri and all its people.
On the way up the mountain, Arsheo notices Oktath isn't with them anymore.
"Hey, where did Dozha go? He was just here,"
curiously states Arsheo, glancing back down the path.
"He got a message from the Salacieans saying the Noctharyn forces are approaching with a few battalions. He should be back before you resume your duties tomorrow,"
Vidrand responds calmly.
Being the strongest people in all of Alniri, the Qitorans have always been the first called for help.
Since they can't share their secret for strength, they always respond to the calls no matter how big or small.
That's why Arsheo has so much respect for the people of Qitor; he's the type of dragon that would give his last to others and keep giving past that.
In retrospect, that's probably why he got integrated into the kingdom before he could even form memories.
Not only are they just great people, but they also were the perfect people to take a gentle soul like his in, sheltering him as a flame in the harsh winter.
"Vidrand? What's it like to complete the ritual?"
asks Venshind, still tense about the ceremony, his voice quieter now as if bracing for the truth.
"Well, it's kind of like if there were multiple bubbles, full of energy, exploding inside you at once.
At first it feels like you're going to melt alive, then it feels like your energy moves more freely, like a calm river,"
states Vidrand with a look of absolute wonder on his face, nostalgia softening his features.
"Sounds scary,"
states the now pale-faced Venshind.
"Sounds delightful,"
chimes in the always calm Arsheo.
The dragons continue their walk up the steps quietly, patiently, and anxiously awaiting the responsibility that lies in the shadow of tomorrow.
As they walk through the Great Hall, they see plenty of familiar faces and can't help but point out who is there currently aside from the whole kingdom.
They see the king of Qitor, King Keorthogg, a mighty Qitoran of taller stature than most with all the features of a full Qitoran.
He is nearly 250 years old and very wise even for his age.
He stands at 6'4 and is covered neck down in the highest quality of Qitoran armor in the color of Qitor, lavender.
His armor is the highest level of enchantment that the Dragonkin have to offer across all three great kingdoms; each king has his own set of armor that he earns upon kingship that exceeds the abilities of normal armor by a significant margin.
Picture this: regular Qitoran armor consists of a lightweight enchantment, a strength enchantment, an elemental enchantment, and a speed buff for the wearer.
On the other hand, the Dragonking armor is said to be at least ten times more enhanced through enchantments, and it has nine total enchantments, including the three in the basic armor.
The armor uses the excess core energy from its wearer to enhance the already incredible abilities of the Dragonkin twofold, creating an aura that hums faintly with stored power.
"Everyone take your seats and settle down. Even though we have two very promising warriors who can easily both become king, we need to treat this like a normal ceremony,"
firmly states the king of dragons, his voice booming with practiced authority.
As the crowd clears up and the king resumes his speech, Arsheo and Venshind see a new face next to their mazhin.
"Hey, kezhan, who is that next to mazhin?"
asks Venshind.
Their mazhin is named Carai, and she's known as the most beautiful dragon in all three draconic kingdoms.
She was a Salaciean who was sent to Qitor as a recruit in exchange for protection but was quickly promoted due to her wits and performance.
She's a red-eyed, blonde-haired Dragonkin who wears a long lavender dress.
She is usually wearing court jewelry and a golden headband sported by all of the court members.
She stands with elegance as if carved from starlight and poise.
"Looks like it's a new recruit, judging by the way she's dressed in a ceremonial dress. She must be our age, and judging by the emerald eyes and white hair, she must be from Devalon,"
responds Arsheo while leaning against a glowing pillar by the entrance, its light casting soft reflections over his golden eyes.
"Well, she came just in time. Any later and she would've had to wait till next year with the younger dragons. She is gorgeous though,"
Venshind states.
"Stop gawking, we're here to become warriors, not eteraeum. Keep your focus on what really matters in this moment; we have plenty of time for women later,"
Arsheo coldly reminds Venshind, his tone sharpened by discipline.
Before they continue the ceremony, they go to meet up with their new kin member performing the ritual with them.
They walk through the crowded hall that was extravagant in design, a magnificent stone building with a dining hall, a meeting hall, a kitchen, and a ritual hall viewable from all angles by the public.
The entire building is fitted with symbols of the Qitoran people and complete with glowing statues of the mighty god Alous.
The faint glow from the statues gives the hall a soft, reverent shimmer.
They make it to the center of the hall as the crowd subsides; the king, Carai, and the new recruit were already there waiting.
The king and Carai start the ceremony while the young dragons converse.
"Hello, I'm Venshind, and this is Arsheo."
Arsheo quickly adjusts his clothing and fixes his posture before reaching out for a handshake, straightening his back as if suddenly remembering his manners.
"Hello, miss, my name is Arsheo, and I'd be happy to help you get acquainted with the kingdom."
"My name is Narci. It's a pleasure to meet you guys,"
she nervously states as she gently takes Arsheo's hand, her touch light and unsure.
Venshind sits behind Arsheo, appalled by his kezhan's actions after their previous conversation.
Narci, rivaling even Carai's beauty, was around 5'9 and is the perfect amount of delicate and muscular.
Venshind's hand shoots up from his hip and collides with Arsheo.
"Zha murnath varkun! We haven't met a Devalonian before; they could've abandoned Azhuric like the Salacieans did. Even if they didn't abandon the old speech, how could you disrespect a new recruit?"
he snaps, voice biting with sudden protective instinct.
"What was disrespectful? Was he teasing me?"
Narci nervously mumbles from behind Venshind, who was now in between Narci and Arsheo.