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The large wooden table occupying my meeting hall once sat the head of households for ten of the most prestigious families of dragonkind. Today, that number has dwindled to five, including myself. The others remain in a death-like sleep, hidden beneath the castle for their own protection.
More will follow and soon I will be the only one at this table.
A hot gust of air hits my left side. I’m not one to be summoned at will and take my time turning my attention to the dragon nearest me. Aeron is temperamental on a good day, and today isn’t a good day. He’s outright deadly, but tiptoeing the line the best he can.
I’m the only one who didn’t show up to the meeting as my dragon. I walk in my human skin, not because I prefer this version of me, but because it’s a power play. Everything I do is a power play. Calculated to ensure the best outcome possible.
The dragons around the table need to know I possess power in both forms. That I do not fear them and can handle the table without using my dragon.
“If you have something to say, Aeron, say it. I don’t wish to be here all day.” I have matters to attend to because today she arrives.
No one but me knows that yet.
Aeron’s voice is gruff, booming inside my head. As a member of my council, we are linked in ways other dragons aren’t. “King Malix, the Nephilim are gaining power at an alarming speed. Without the full council, our very livelihoods are threatened. More and more fall to the curse each day, strengthening the Nephilim. We must?—”
“And what do you propose we do, hmm? What plan do you have to save our people from the sleeping curse? Enlighten us.”
I know he has no solution. No one at the tables does, but they certainly like to complain as if they do. If the past year has taught me anything, it is that “prestigious” is a relative term. Most of these dragons have done nothing to earn their spot at my table. Nothing, other than being born into a noble family.
If things ever go back to normal, that is the first change I will enact.
Aeron doesn’t like to be interrupted or put on the spot. The anger rolls off of him in waves, but I don’t so much as flinch. I wait, ever patiently for his response.
His yellow eyes narrow to slits and he gnashes his teeth at me. “We need to be actively seeking a solution and not sitting on our asses, letting the curse pick us off one by one.”
“Our people are nervous, sire,” a new voice adds to the mix. Vivia is a petite, purple, almost black dragon, extremely swift and cunning. She’s one of the only ones at the table whom I’d want to keep as an advisor. Her feelings toward Aeron mirror my own.
“There has been talk of potentially moving our people to the Demon’s Clan. A few have already started to pack their belongings, ready to leave at a moment’s notice,” Vivia continues.
Demon’s Clan. Our closest allies. From what I’ve heard through my contacts in the demon territory, the Nephilim problem has reached their lands as well. It’s still in the early stages, but picking up and moving would put my people in the same precarious situation they are in now.
The council begins to all talk at once. Some favor a mass exodus, while others believe it is best to stay and fight. It’s all a pissing contest now. Who can growl the loudest and intimidate the other with their size and teeth.
I let this go on for another few moments before I say, “I have already found a solution to our problem.”
The entire room goes silent. Each yellow, cat-like set of eyes stares directly at me, waiting for me to explain myself. I will, but they aren’t going to like it. I decide that’s not my fucking problem.
“I’ve spoken with Ender and agreed to his deal.”
My proclamation is greeted by more silence. Even Vivia, who typically backs me, is silent, her body tense, as if waiting for a fight. Though I’m not sure if she intends to defend me or sink her claws into my back.
Dragons are private by nature. Asking for outside help does not come easy for us. Even the demons, our closest allies, rarely hear from us because we prefer to stay within our walls. Going to Ender was not an easy decision, but desperation crept in and I’m not as prideful to think I can single-handedly defend my people.
I can’t. I need another option.
“You went to The Guardian…why?” Vivia asked, echoing the question on everyone’s mind.
Last week, after losing two entire families to the sleeping curse—a total of twelve people—I swallowed my pride and summoned him. He came almost immediately, taking one look at me, surrounded by dozens of sleeping dragons, and nodded.
“I will help you,” he said without even hearing what I had to say. Without knowing what my problem was or what he would get out of the exchange.
But that’s the thing about Ender—or The Guardian, as he’s more commonly referred to—he has this ability to know what is going on everywhere. The guy’s old as fuck and I’m sure he’s seen it all, but damn, it’s intimidating.
My gaze drifts around the room, to the dragons staring back at me. This room is equipped to handle ten fully-grown dragons. The few of us left is a stark reminder of the severity of our problem.
And how it will only get worse.
“I went because there is no other option for us,” I say, pushing my chair back so I can stand and walk the large expanse of the room. “I will not stand to see anymore of my people fall. Which one of you is next? Each time we meet, fewer and fewer of you are here to participate.”
