The weight of the trial pressed heavily on Conor’s mind as he sat alone in his chambers. The High Council’s proceedings had grown more intense with each passing day, and though they were making progress against Kelan Benedict, the strain was becoming unbearable.Not just on Kerrigan, but on him as well. Their powers, while formidable, had become unpredictable. And Kerrigan—gods, Kerrigan—was suffering under the growing pressure of Abraxas’s power, and it was only getting worse.Conor rubbed his temples, feeling the familiar hum of energy just beneath his skin. It was always there, a constant reminder of Celia, the dragon soul that had chosen him as her Deinmaar. She had been quiet for so long, letting him navigate the complexities of the trial on his own. But now, as the tension between him and Kerrigan grew, he couldn’t help but wonder if her silence was deliberate.He needed answers. Needed guidance.For the first time in weeks, he closed his eyes and reached out to her, calling her
The corridors of the royal palace felt cold and distant as Conor made his way through the maze-like hallways, his mind preoccupied with the revelations from Celia the night before.He couldn’t stop thinking about the Valtas bond, about Kerrigan, and the growing weight of their intertwined destinies.But as much as the future pressed down on him, something deeper had begun to surface—questions about his past, specifically about his mother, Priestess Rainna.Rainna had always been a towering figure in his memory, a woman of grace and power, but also one who carried the burdens of the kingdom’s spiritual well-being.Now, with the trial underway, Kerrigan’s parents and his mother had been brought up more than once, Conor’s curiosity about Rainna’s connection to Kerrigan’s family gnawed at him.He needed answers.And there was only one person left who could provide them: the Duchess. She had been apart of things all those years ago, if the letters Kerrigan had found where genuine. Conor s
The atmosphere in the grand chamber of the High Council was thick with anticipation. Each session of Kelan Benedict’s trial seemed to draw more attention, and today was no different. The seats were filled with nobles, council members, and high-ranking officials, all waiting for the latest developments. Kerrigan and Conor had prepared meticulously, knowing that every word, every action, could tip the scales.Conor, as Deinmaar of Celia, had taken on a greater role in the trial. His presence was no longer just symbolic. People looked to him not only for spiritual guidance but also for political leadership. His words carried weight, and with Kerrigan’s growing influence, the two of them had become a formidable force. But Conor could feel the pressure mounting, the tension in the air growing heavier with each passing day.The trial had already stretched into weeks of evidence and testimony, but everyone in the room knew that the real battle was being fought beneath the surface—between the
The late afternoon sun bathed the capital in golden light as Conor stood next to Kerrigan, his eyes scanning the crowd gathered for the press conference.People had come in droves, eager to hear Kerrigan speak, to rally behind her cause in the ever-escalating trial against Kelan Benedict. The courtyard was filled with murmurs of anticipation, the tension in the air thick and palpable.Conor’s heart pounded, though not from the anxiety of the public event. It was something deeper—a gnawing sense of unease that had been building within him for days. Celia’s power, ever present inside him, had begun to feel different.Stronger, yes, but also less controlled. He and Kerrigan had always been able to rely on the golden motes of light that manifested when their dragons’ energies connected, a symbol of the balance between Celia’s wisdom and Abraxas’s raw force.But lately, those moments of harmony had grown more tenuous, slipping just out of their grasp.As Kerrigan took the stage, her voice c
The High Council chamber was colder today, its stone walls shadowed by the late afternoon light. Conor leaned against one of the carved pillars, his mind still replaying the chaotic scene from the press conference earlier.Kerrigan’s voice, once a clear command that rallied crowds, had faltered, and their bond—usually a source of strength—had nearly broken in front of the entire kingdom. Conor rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of Celia’s power, heavy and restless inside him.Kerrigan stood a few paces away, surrounded by Reilynn and Evelynn, her focus entirely on the conversation at hand. She was strategizing, discussing the next moves in the trial against Kelan Benedict, and though she exuded confidence, Conor could sense the tension simmering beneath her calm exterior.She was pushing harder, speaking louder, her influence growing with every passing day. The people were rallying behind her, and she was becoming more than a leader—she was becoming a symbol.Conor glanced at her,
Conor sat alone in the dim light of his chambers, staring at the soft flickering flame of the single candle burning on the table before him. His thoughts were a storm, swirling endlessly around the same question that had haunted him since the rally—Valtas.Celia’s cryptic mention of it had seemed almost a passing remark at first, something he could brush aside as he dealt with the more immediate threats of the trial and the pressures of his and Kerrigan’s growing powers.But the rally had changed everything. The surge of power between him and Kerrigan had been a warning—one he could no longer ignore. Their connection, while strong, was becoming more dangerous with each passing day.Abraxas’s warlike energy, barely restrained, pulsed within Kerrigan, and Celia’s wisdom, though powerful, was becoming harder to control. And now, Valen’s words about Kerrigan’s rise to power lingered in the back of his mind, adding yet another layer of doubt.“Valtas,” Conor muttered under his breath, as if
The grand hall of the royal palace was a masterpiece of gilded excess, designed to remind everyone who entered that they stood in the presence of power. Marble pillars reached skyward, inlaid with veins of gold and silver that caught the light of the chandeliers above.The air was heavy with the scent of perfumed oils and roasting meats, mingling with the low hum of conversation. Nobles in elaborate silks and jewels filled the room, their laughter and whispered gossip a backdrop to the King’s carefully orchestrated spectacle.Kerrigan stood at the edge of the gathering, her posture poised but her mind alert. She had been invited here by King Ryu Pinion himself, a gesture that many saw as a high honor.But Kerrigan knew better—this wasn’t an honor, it was a test. The King wanted to see her up close, to measure how far her influence had spread, and to push her into making a public choice she wasn’t ready to make.Across the room, Conor lingered near one of the far walls, his presence d
The grand palace, usually alive with the constant hum of activity, felt strangely subdued in the dim light of dawn. King Ryu Pinion paced the length of his private council chamber, the opulent surroundings failing to soothe the turmoil brewing within him.Tapestries depicting long-dead kings and their triumphs hung from the walls, but today they seemed more like ghostly reminders of past glories—glories that felt increasingly out of his grasp.Kerrigan Lokir. Her name was on everyone’s lips. Ever since the banquet, whispers of her rise had grown louder. In the eyes of the people, she was no longer just a force of change; she was becoming a symbol of what the kingdom could be.To some, she represented a new era, a future where the crown and the people stood united. But to King Ryu, she was a threat—a dangerous, uncontrollable force that he had failed to tame.He stopped by the window, looking out over the sprawling capital. The city was waking up, bathed in the pale light of morning, bu