The image of a dragon burnt brightly above Lucian's head, an image all the dragons seated in the room were all too familiar with.
"It can't be." The majority of them murmured as they stared at the image of the dragon. Even the dragonking was on his feet as his body slightly trembled.
The dragon image smiled as it looked at the dragonking, "It's so good to be able to see you again, Nithe."
"Falkor... Are you still...?"
"Alive? No. This is a wisp of my soul, the details of the story, HE should be able to tell you. I know this might sound a little far-fetched and probably unbelievable, but this child is the Dragonlord. I had a feeling he might face some prejudice when he eventually arrived here, so I planted a wisp of my soul on him." Falkor said, looking down at Mushu as he radiated a crazy amount of pressure, forcing him to back off.
The room was thrown into an uproar, a dragonlord has not appeared for close to five centuries, it had been a dark age for dragons where they had been forced to retreat into their lands. The appearance of a dragonlord could very well change their stance in the world. When leading dragons, experienced dragonlords could give crazy amount of boosts to the them.
Contrary to the excitement of the general public, Nithe's face fell, "It's good to be able to see you... one last time, old friend. How've you been all these years?"
Falkor sighed in response. "As much as I've love to catch up with you, I don't have much time left. There's been some secretive movement between Morthal, Solitude and Dawnstar. They seem to be exchanging armies or something similar. Sooner or later, the rest will follow. Falkreath, though, remains neutral, supporting no sides. This is also dangerous, we should try as much as we can to get them on our side."
"Hmm." Nithe laid back down on his throne, "Falkreath does have past history of dealing with dragonhold, so I suppose it's worth an attempt. But the most important thing is keeping the fact that there is a new dragonlord, a secret. It will be our trump card if they ever think to strike."
Mushu, who's been pushed to the sidelines finally spoke up, "My lord, I think it's necessary to remind you that the present dragonlord is far too weak, and far from experienced in battles. It's safe to say that as he is at the moment, he cannot deal with our internal conflicts, not to talk of the fate of any war."
"That will be appropriately taken off. There are various schools of magic arts across the continent where he could properly master arcane arts. Especially the college of Winterhold, known for its competitiveness."
Lucian just stood in the hall, looking at the dragons discuss his fate like he was a little pawn on their chess board—not that he wasn't, there wasn't much he could anyway.
The room was tense as the intel about the upcoming war shook the minds of the elder dragons. After a while of planning, Falkor's soul remnant eventually dissipated, leaving Lucian with one last personal warning, "Careful who you trust, dragonlad."
After the last wisp of his soul vanished, the elder dragons rounded up the meeting. Lucian was to be shown to his private quarters, where all the past dragonlords have dwelled in. He would be supplied by everything he needed. He was also personally assigned a dragon assistant—Raya, the second child and the daughter of the dragonking.
Raya took him to his lodging, which was on a mountain top behind that of the dragonking.
'Seems they place a lot of importance on this dragonlord title huh.'