The faint cry of the prince lingered in the air, an invisible thread connecting the gathered royals in the nursery. Even the golden light suffusing the room seemed to thrum in response to the newborn's power, as though the walls themselves recognized the significance of his existence.
Theros leaned closer to the nursery's gilded cradle, his grin mischievous. "Let me see him," he said, peering over the edge.
The baby within was small, his golden scales gleaming faintly even in the dim light. Though his eyes were closed, the air around him seemed alive with latent energy.
"Doesn't look like much," Theros said with a shrug, then wagged a finger at the child. "But that cry? That was the sound of someone who already knows how to make an entrance. Clearly, he gets that from me."
Kayla, leaning against the wall, smirked. "He's not snoring, so I doubt that."
Theros gasped, clutching his chest as though wounded. "How dare you! I don't snore—" he turned toward his father—"do I, Father?"
Arman's golden eyes narrowed slightly, though his expression remained composed. "Louder than a whale song. The palace echoes with it."
Theros threw his arms up dramatically. "Et tu, Father? My own blood turns against me!"
The room filled with faint chuckles, even from Azarios, whose rare smile quickly faded as he looked at the infant.
"He's… different," Azarios said softly, his gaze intent on the child.
"That much is obvious," Ancestor Balthazar's deep, resonant voice interrupted, filling the room.
The family turned as the ancient dragon entered, his golden antlers catching the nursery's soft light. Though he moved with a calm dignity, his presence alone commanded attention.
Balthazar's golden eyes swept the room before settling on the cradle. "What you feel now is a mere fraction of his power. That cry of his…" He paused, his voice growing weighty. "It has awakened forces that have long slumbered."
Theros straightened, his humor momentarily giving way to curiosity. "Forces like who? If it's the Shadowborne, let them come. I'll sing them a lullaby they won't wake up from."
"Theros," Arman warned, though his lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.
"Relax, Father," Theros replied breezily, leaning against the cradle. "You've got Azarios to brood, me to brawl, and Kayla to… well, whatever it is she does. We've got this."
Kayla rolled her eyes but said nothing, her golden gaze flicking back to the child.
"It's not a jest," Balthazar said firmly, silencing the room. "The cry was a beacon, heard far beyond our kingdom. Every rival power in the ocean—and likely even the surface—felt its call. They will come for him, whether to destroy him or use him for their gain."
Later, the family stood within the great hall of the palace, its vaulted ceiling adorned with murals depicting the royal dragons' history. At the head of the room sat Arman, his regal form commanding respect as the current king. To his side stood Balthazar, his role as Ancestor complementary yet undeniably vital.
The kingdom's high council had gathered—veteran generals, advisors, and key nobles seated in a semi-circle. The tension was palpable as Balthazar spoke.
"The birth of the prince has awakened the kingdom," he began, his voice steady. "But it has also awakened our enemies. Do not mistake the quiet for safety."
General Kaelen, his scarred visage bearing the marks of countless battles, leaned forward. "Ancestor, who do you believe will act first?"
Balthazar's gaze flickered, unreadable. "The Shadowborne Clans of the Abyss may stir. They've long waited for a chance to strike. And then there are the surface dwellers. The humans."
Theros leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Humans? Please. If they come for us, I'll just invite them for tea. You know, so I can set the table on fire."
Arman exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Theros…"
"What?" Theros spread his arms innocently. "It's better than Azarios staring them to death. He's good at it, but it takes forever."
Even Azarios smirked at that, though he quickly masked it with a frown. "Humor won't help us, Theros. The humans may lack our power, but they are clever and resourceful. If they see the prince as a threat, they'll act decisively."
"A rare moment of agreement," Balthazar said, inclining his head toward Azarios. "We cannot afford to underestimate any enemy. Kaelen, reinforce the outer defenses. Azarios, take your squad to patrol the borders. Report any unusual movement."
Azarios nodded solemnly. "As you command, Ancestor."
"And me?" Theros asked, his grin widening. "Surely, you've got some grand mission for your favorite son?"
Arman raised an eyebrow. "Your only mission should be learning restraint."
Balthazar interrupted, his tone thoughtful. "No, the Abyssal Trenches require investigation. The Shadowborne may stir, and the darkness of the Abyss is no place for the unprepared. Theros, I believe you are uniquely suited to the task."
Theros blinked, caught off guard. "The Abyss? You're serious?"
Balthazar's gaze held steady. "Deadly serious. If the Shadowborne are moving, we must know before they strike. Take your goons and return with anything you can uncover."
Theros's grin returned, now tinged with excitement. "Dangerous mission, deep shadows, and a chance to outshine Azarios? Say no more—I'm in."
The council chamber's golden glow seemed to dim as a figure stepped forward, her silver robes catching the faint light. Lysander, the seer whose words had echoed through the kingdom long before the prince's birth, walked with deliberate grace. Her aged face bore the weight of untold visions, and the intricate dragon motifs on her attire shimmered faintly, as though alive with arcane power.
"Ancestor, Your Majesty," she began, bowing deeply first to Balthazar, then to Arman. Her voice, though soft, carried a weight that silenced the room.
Theros, lounging in his seat with characteristic irreverence, smirked. "Ah, Lysander. You always bring such cheerful news. Let me guess—doom, destruction, and an ominous shadow over the kingdom?"
Lysander turned her sharp gaze on him, the corners of her lips twitching in what might have been amusement. "Mockery is your shield, young prince. But heed my words: the cry was not merely a beacon to the living. It called to the ancient forces that slumber beyond our understanding."
Theros opened his mouth to respond, but Arman's calm, commanding voice cut through. "Enough, Theros."
Theros leaned back, throwing up his hands. "Yes, Father. I'll save my charm for the Shadowborne."
Arman's golden eyes shifted to Lysander. "What is it you foresee this time, Seer? Speak plainly."
Lysander nodded, her expression grave. "The cry has awakened more than enemies. It has drawn the attention of the Obsidian Eye."
A ripple of unease passed through the council. Even Theros, usually unflappable, frowned.
"Obsidian Eye?" he muttered. "Sounds dramatic. What is it, some ancient curse?"
Azarios, ever serious, answered without looking at him. "The Obsidian Eye is a force as old as the seas. It watches, waits, and acts only when balance is threatened. If it stirs, it means the prince's power has disrupted something fundamental."
Lysander inclined her head. "Correct, Prince Azarios. And its awakening is only the beginning. The Eye's emissaries will come—agents cloaked in shadow, wielding power unlike anything we've faced. They will not stop until the source of the disruption is... neutralized."
Theros snorted. "Neutralized? You mean the baby? I'd like to see them try. We'll just shove Azarios at them—he can bore them into submission with one of his brooding silences."
Arman's sharp gaze turned to his son. "Theros."
The single word carried enough authority to make the room fall silent. Theros grinned sheepishly but fell quiet, his rebellious humor tempered by his father's commanding presence.
Balthazar, who had remained silent during Lysander's revelation, finally spoke. "We will not cower before prophecies or ancient forces. The kingdom has endured countless trials, and we will face this one with the same resolve."
His golden antlers glimmered faintly as he looked to Arman. "The prince must be protected at all costs. The kingdom must be fortified. And if this Obsidian Eye sends its emissaries, they will find us ready."
Arman nodded, his stoic demeanor unshaken. "Agreed. Azarios, prepare your squad to patrol the borders. Strengthen our defenses and report anything unusual."
Azarios inclined his head. "As you command, Father."
Balthazar's gaze shifted to Theros. "You, on the other hand as i said earlier, will take your... unique skills and merry crew to the Abyssal Trenches. If the Shadowborne are stirring, we must know their movements."
Theros grinned, leaning forward. "yes, a mission worthy of my talents. Deep shadows, dangerous creatures, and a chance to play hero. Count me in."
"And try not to make it into a spectacle," Arman added, his tone dry but regal.
Theros placed a hand over his heart. "Father, you wound me. I'm the picture of subtlety."
Kayla snorted softly, earning a glance from Theros. "What? I'm subtle!"
"Like a seaquake," she muttered.
As the council began to disperse, Lysander approached Arman and Balthazar. Her silver robes whispered against the floor as she bowed once more.
Arman's golden gaze met hers, steady and unyielding. "We have faced destruction before, Seer. And we have always risen stronger."
Lysander inclined her head. "Then may the Ancestors guide you, Your Majesty. For the shadows gathering now are unlike any we have faced."
Balthazar, standing beside his son, placed a hand on Arman's shoulder. "She speaks the truth. Prepare for war, but do not let it consume you. The balance must be preserved."
Arman nodded, his expression unreadable. "It will be done."
As Theros prepared to leave, he found Arman waiting for him at the gates.
"Father," Theros said, his tone uncharacteristically respectful. "Here to give me a sendoff?"
Arman regarded him for a moment, then said, "I am here to remind you of your responsibility. This mission is not a jest, Theros. The safety of the kingdom may depend on what you find."
Theros grinned, his rebellious humor returning. "Don't worry, Father. I'll be as serious as Azarios. Which, as we both know, means everyone will hate it."
Arman's lips twitched slightly, but his tone remained firm. "Be careful. And Theros..."
"Yes?"
"Do try to return without burning something down," Arman said, his voice carrying a rare hint of humor.
Theros laughed, saluting dramatically. "No promises."
As he mounted his steed and plunged into the depths, the kingdom braced itself for what lay ahead. Shadows loomed on the horizon, and the first moves of a far greater game were about to be played.