As the minutes passed and Aemon and Edrys walked through the bustling streets of Lysanthor, the presence of the Prince of Volcrist quickly began to draw attention. Citizens whispered, and rumors spread like wildfire. Some speculated that Aemon was seeking alliances to raise Volcrist from the ashes, while others guessed that he sought to marry Princess Fianna to solidify his legitimacy and secure Lysanthor's support. Curious glances and hushed conversations grew, following them like a shadow.
Noticing the rising curiosity around them, Edrys broke the silence with a slight tone of provocation:
— Rumors spread quickly here, Prince Aemon. Many are already saying you've come to ask for our princess' hand in marriage. And, to be frank, what is it that you really desire from this visit? Is it just an alliance... or something more?
Aemon stopped for a moment, his eyes meeting Edrys'. There was no room for half-truths, so he responded clearly and firmly:
— An alliance between dominions. Volcrist needs more than just words. It needs real allies, partnerships that can keep its people safe and help rebuild what was lost. That is what I seek, Edrys. To strengthen Volcrist and make it rise again.
Edrys, with his sharp gaze, recognized the sincerity in Aemon's voice but also detected the strategic undertone. With a slight nod, he replied:
— Ah, yes... an alliance between dominions. — His voice was soft, almost as if weighing all the implications. — But know this: Lysanthor doesn't offer alliances lightly. Everything has a price, and our king will have questions. But such conversations... are best held before the throne.
With a gesture, Edrys pointed the way to the grand castle of Lysanthor, its towering spires standing tall against the sky, reflecting the power and tradition of the dominion.
— Let us proceed — Edrys continued, his gaze fixed on Aemon. — In the throne room, we can discuss the terms of your visit and what Volcrist truly has to offer.
Aemon nodded, realizing that the words and decisions that followed could shape the future not only of Volcrist but of the entire region. They walked toward the castle as the murmurs of the citizens continued to spread, like a wave of curiosity surrounding the young prince's ambitions.
Upon reaching the imposing castle of Lysanthor, Edrys led Aemon into the vast throne room, where the walls were adorned with tapestries depicting epic battles and past victories. The soft morning light filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful shadows on the marble floor. With a respectful gesture, Edrys indicated for Aemon to wait there.
— The king will be here shortly, Prince Aemon. — Edrys said, with a slight bow of his head before leaving through a side door.
Aemon found himself alone in the silence of the throne room, his eyes scanning the surroundings. The place exuded power and tradition, but there was a palpable sense of expectation in the air. Every second seemed longer as he waited. A few minutes passed until the sound of heavy doors opening echoed through the hall. When Aemon looked up, he saw the King of Lysanthor.
The man who entered was impressive. Of robust and muscular build, he carried the weight of years of battle on his body, but there was a serenity in his eyes, something that spoke of wisdom gained over decades. His broad shoulders and firm posture indicated that, despite his age, he was still a leader to be reckoned with. Beside him, Edrys walked silently, his gaze attentive.
Right behind the king, Aemon recognized Fianna, the Princess of Lysanthor, accompanied by several ladies-in-waiting. Her presence caused a slight discomfort in Aemon, but he quickly hid it. Fianna was a woman of striking beauty, her eyes conveying intelligence and caution. The other women followed her silently, their expressions respectful.
Moments later, the door opened again, revealing Edric, who entered the room like a familiar and comforting figure for Aemon. His footsteps echoed on the marble floor, and he positioned himself beside Aemon, slightly bowing his head in respect to the king.
The king stopped in front of the throne, his eyes fixed on Aemon for a brief moment. The silence in the room was almost palpable until he broke it with a deep, yet calm voice:
— So... you are Aemon Valaryon, Prince of Volcrist. — The king's tone was firm but without hostility. — They say you brought war and death to Volcrist, but you survived. Courage runs in your blood.
Aemon kept his head held high, his words carefully chosen:
— Your Majesty, Volcrist has endured difficult times, and I seek alliances here that can protect our people and help rebuild what was lost. I did not come to speak of destruction, but of renewal.
The king nodded, but before he could respond, Edrys, who remained near the throne, intervened with a shrewd tone:
— Renewal is what everyone desires, prince. But what would Lysanthor gain by allying with a kingdom many believe to be on the brink of collapse?
Aemon looked directly at Edrys and replied firmly:
— Volcrist still stands. And with the right allies, it will prosper again. There is more strength in our people than any rumor could destroy.
Fianna, who had remained silent, finally spoke:
— Alliances are forged with more than just words, prince. What exactly does Volcrist have to offer Lysanthor?
Aemon hesitated for a moment, feeling the eyes upon him. He knew his answer could define the course of the negotiations. Before responding, he looked at Edric, who gave him a slight nod, encouraging him to continue.
— Volcrist offers loyalty, military alliances, and... something more. Something that could change the fate of any kingdom. — Aemon paused dramatically, but kept the mystery for now.
The king observed Aemon for another moment, his eyes glinting with interest.
— We will discuss this in depth. — The king finally said, as he settled into his throne. — I am curious to hear what you have in mind, young Valaryon.
The meeting was just beginning, but the pieces were already being moved on the board of power between Volcrist and Lysanthor.
Edric approached Aemon with silent steps, leaning in to whisper something in the young prince's ear.
— His name is Reynar. — Edric murmured before discreetly stepping back, positioning himself beside Edrys, who observed the situation with a calculating expression.
Aemon stood before the throne, feeling the weight of attention upon him. King Reynar adjusted himself in his seat, his strong fingers resting on the arm of the throne. His sharp eyes locked onto the Prince of Volcrist as his voice, laden with unquestionable authority, broke the silence of the room:
— Tell me, Aemon Valaryon... what benefit would Lysanthor gain by allying with you and Volcrist? — The king's tone was harsh but measured. — They speak of you as a beast on the battlefield, a butcher who kills men as if they were nothing. And Volcrist... a dominion on the brink of collapse, in ruins. What can you offer besides chaos and death?
Aemon, though young, knew he was being tested. The king wanted to see how far his determination and intelligence would go. He took a deep breath before responding, carefully controlling every word.
— Your Majesty, I understand the doubts. The fame that precedes me was forged on a battlefield where survival allowed no hesitation. But what I am and what I can offer are far more than the rumors suggest. Volcrist is in ruins, yes, but ruins can be rebuilt, and when that happens, it will have the strength of those who know the depths of the abyss and rise even stronger.
Reynar's eyes gleamed with a mix of curiosity and skepticism, but he remained silent, listening.
— I believe that power does not reside solely in brute force, but in strategy, alliances, and the potential to create something greater. Volcrist may have fallen, but it is far from irrelevant. — Aemon continued, his voice firm. — Military alliances can be forged, trade routes opened, but beyond that... there is something more.
The king raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not showing excitement.
— And what would that "something more" be? — Reynar asked, the expectation clear in his voice.
Aemon glanced briefly at Edric before responding, knowing he was about to reveal a crucial piece.
— A dragon egg, your Majesty. — Aemon declared calmly. — Found on the outskirts of Volcrist. A relic from an ancient time, and if hatched, it could change the course of any war or alliance. Who wouldn't unite with a kingdom that possesses the power of the ancients? Volcrist offers much more than ruins; it offers the promise of a reborn era.
Reynar remained silent for a moment, absorbing the revelation. His eyes sparkled with new interest, though he was still not fully convinced.
— A dragon egg... If true, it would change the game. But even so, it's just a promise, something yet to be born. You are young, Aemon, and I see the fire in your eyes. But fire alone does not build kingdoms. — He paused, leaning forward. — What guarantees me that by allying with Volcrist, I won't be tying myself to a corpse that will never rise again?
Aemon smiled slightly, knowing this was the moment to be bold.
— The difference, your Majesty, is that Volcrist still has life, and I am proof of that. I have done the impossible before, survived when I shouldn't have, protected when everything seemed lost. Volcrist may be on the ground, but like a phoenix, it will rise again. And with a dragon by our side, there will be no one who can stop us. What I offer is an alliance that will make you part of that ascent, not as a mere observer, but as an equal partner.
Reynar looked at Aemon for a few more seconds, his eyes assessing every detail, every word spoken. He then leaned back into the throne, a barely perceptible smile appearing on his face.
— We shall see if you are right, Aemon Valaryon. —
Aemon lowered his head, reflecting for a brief moment as his mind weighed what was at stake. The room felt suffocating, and Reynar's harsh words echoed in everyone's mind. Edrys, sensing the growing tension, leaned discreetly toward Edric, whispering with a hint of concern in his voice.
— The king may have been a bit harsh with him — Edrys murmured, his attentive eyes watching Aemon's every movement.
Edric, for his part, remained silent. He knew Aemon well enough to sense that something was brewing. He recognized the spark in the prince's eyes, the determination contained in each gesture, and he knew that a turning point was about to happen.
Seeking to lighten the mood, Edrys addressed Aemon directly, his tone now softer, though still with a teasing edge.
— Tell me, Aemon, have you not considered another path for this alliance? Perhaps a less... fantastical approach. — He cast a subtle glance at Fianna. — Aren't you interested in marrying a woman from Lysanthor? A matrimonial bond would be much more solid and less risky than promising the birth of a dragon. — The insinuation was clear, but the tone was almost casual, as if Aemon's response was merely a formality.
Aemon slowly raised his head, his eyes locking onto Edrys, and then to the king, who was walking back to his throne, his back turned to him. The air in the hall was thick, as if everyone were holding their breath, waiting for the response.
With a firm posture and a respectful yet resolute tone, Aemon finally spoke, the accumulated tension transforming into direct words.
— I did not travel from Volcrist to Lysanthor to find a wife, — Aemon began, his voice calm yet cutting, — let alone to court Fianna or any other woman offered to me as a commodity in exchange for an alliance.
The words were met with an absolute silence. Aemon held his stance, knowing his response would shock many, especially Edrys. He continued:
— I respect the value of matrimonial alliances, but that is not my intention. Volcrist does not need an arranged marriage to ensure its survival. I need allies who understand what is at stake. A shattered kingdom does not rise again with empty promises or weak ties. It rises with strength, determination, and yes, a clear vision for the future.
Fianna, who had previously maintained a disinterested posture, raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Edric, on the other hand, watched the scene with a mix of pride and anticipation, knowing that Aemon was just getting started.
— Your Majesty, — Aemon continued, looking directly at King Reynar, — do not underestimate what I am proposing. I am not here to barter my lineage for favors or a fleeting alliance. Volcrist may have been devastated, but I still have the strength and ambition to make this kingdom something that everyone will respect again. If Lysanthor desires an alliance, it will be one between equals, based on trust, not forced marriages.
Reynar, who had been returning to his throne, paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he pondered Aemon's words. A heavy silence fell over the hall.
Edrys, realizing his attempt to steer the conversation toward a marriage had failed, cast a sideways glance at Edric, who merely shook his head slightly, as if to say, "I knew it." Aemon, on the other hand, kept his head held high, refusing to look away, showing that he would not bend to anyone's expectations there.
Reynar slowly turned back, his eyes locking onto Aemon once again. The king remained silent for a moment before a brief, enigmatic smile touched his lips.
— Interesting... — Reynar said, his voice now more contemplative. — Very interesting. It seems that the Prince of Volcrist is not as simple as some of us thought.