Location: URUK
The ball room of the capital 's palace was crowded. Noble houses. Merchant lords. Dragon-blooded families. All gathered for the Boon Ceremony.
Vaedon stood among the observers. Less distinguished, just present.
The massive throne sat elevated. Carved from black stone that seemed to drink light.
Draelor Ignisar occupied it. Eldest brother. First Prince. Rank 5 warrior. The pillar of the Empire.
At the base of the throne, five young nobles knelt. Come-of-age petitions for dragon boons disguised as contracts.
Four had already been granted. Their families celebrating quietly. Relief and joy mixing.
Now the fifth approached.
Prince Aldous of Autumn.
A young, lean, eighteen year old. He looked like someone who had trained hard to compensate for something. His eyes were set and determined but underneath was frustration.
He wore his kingdom's colors. Burnt orange and gold like armor.
Behind him, King Ephraim. Black and gray beards. Eyes grey and calm. Once powerful. Now watching his son with desperate hope.
Aldous knelt. His voice was strong and clear.
"Your highness, Draelor Ignisar. I, Prince Aldous of Autumn, petition for the Boon. The gift of dragon contract. So that I may serve my kingdom with the strength it requires. With the power to protect my people from those who would see us fall under your wings."
It sounded rehearsed. But genuine underneath. There was steel in the boy's words.
Draelor looked down at him. Crimson eyes quiet and observing.
"No."
One word came. It was flat and sounded final.
Aldous's jaw tightened as he raised his eyes in surprise .
"May I ask why, My lord?"
"Your bloodline is too diluted. Even if I granted contract, your body couldn't sustain dragon fire. You'd burn from the inside within months."
"Then grant me a lesser contract. A drake. Anything that—"
"No."
King Ephraim stepped forward. "My lord, please. My son has trained since childhood. He—"
"Training doesn't fix blood, Ephraim." Draelor's tone wasn't cruel. Just factual. "I've granted contracts to the others because their lineage could bear it. Your son's cannot."
"There must be another option—" King Ephraim pleaded.
"There is." Draelor's gaze shifted. "You have daughters. Bring them to me for assessment."
Ephraim's face went white. "My daughters are—"
"More suited." Draelor's voice was final. "Your heir must be capable of bearing dragon strength like you did. If your son cannot, then your daughter must. That is the way of succession under dragon rule."
Aldous's fists clenched on his thighs. But his voice stayed controlled.
"I understand, my lord. Thank you for your consideration."
He stood and walked. The crowd parted.
No one looked at him directly. Pity too visible. Embarrassment contagious.
He walked through silence. King Ephraim following behind. Both heads held level despite everything.
Vaedon watched them leave.
Perfect. His body suddenly phased out.
It didn't take long, he found Aldous alone in a side corridor. The young prince leaned against cold stone. Face blank. Eyes staring at nothing.
King Ephraim had gone elsewhere. Perhaps to compose himself. Perhaps to weep privately.
Aldous was alone and Vaedon approached quietly.
"That was well handled."
Aldous's head snapped up. Saw him and straightened immediately.
"Second Prince." His voice was flat. "Come to offer condolences?"
"No. You don't need those." Vaedon stopped a few paces away. "You handled rejection with more dignity than most adults manage."
Aldous's expression flickered with surprise but soon reverted.
"Dignity doesn't grant power."
"No. But it shows character." Vaedon's tone was thoughtful. "My brother said your blood was too weak for dragon fire. He's probably right about that."
"Then what are you—"
"I said dragon fire. Not all power comes from Us."
Aldous's eyes sharpened. "What do you mean?"
"There are other paths. Older ones. Paths that don't require pure bloodlines or divine favor."
"Like what?"
Vaedon smiled gently. "Not here. You're stil emotional. Not the time for serious discussion."
"Tell me." Aldous's voice was harder. Desperate. "If there's a way—"
"There might be. But these things require trust, time and consideration"
He pulled a card from his sleeve. Offered it.
"I'm hosting a gathering in two weeks. its private for those who understand that tradition isn't the only path to strength."
Aldous took the card. Read the address.
"Come if you're interested." Vaedon's tone was easy. No pressure. "But know this—strength comes in many forms. Dragon blood is only one. And often... not the strongest."
He turned to leave.
"Second Prince."
Vaedon paused. Glanced back.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because I see potential where my brother sees weakness." Vaedon's smile was kind.
"And because the world needs more than just dragons to survive what's coming."
He walked away. Left Aldous standing alone. Card in hand. Determination replacing despair.
---
Vaedon moved through the palace corridors. He passed through the main hall where nobles still lingered after the ceremony.
One of Draelor's attendants, a woman, competent-looking—approached him casually. As if simply passing.
She leaned close as they crossed paths. Whispered something.
She continued walking. Gone before anyone noticed they'd interacted.
Vaedon's steps didn't falter.His expression didn't change. But something shifted behind his eyes.
Marten. Arrested.
Auryn.
He smirked and continued to his chambers. He moved to the chess board.
The white knight still lay on its side, where he'd knocked it over.
He stood before the board. Eyes calm and processing.
Marten was careful. Three years without detection.For Auryn to find him, arrest him, schedule execution—all in one night...
That's not luck. That's hunting.
His fingers found the knocked knight. He picked it up. Studied it in candlelight.
Little brother's not just surviving anymore.
He's moving like...
He turned the piece slowly.
...like someone who knows what he's doing.
Vaedon positioned the knight back on the board.
Upright in the center position. Not on the edge anymore.
"Perhaps you're not just a pawn after all."
He stepped back. Looked at the full board.
All the pieces. The game stretching months. Years.
His fingers drummed once against his thigh.Tappi g three times.
A smile touched his lips. He was both amused and shocked.
This just got really interesting.