Late in the evening, the grand doors to the King’s private chamber swung open with a low creak, and Kerrigan and Conor stepped inside, their every movement weighed down by the tension that had been building for weeks.The room was dimly lit, a far cry from the usual splendor of the palace, as if even the light itself had recoiled from the gravity of what was about to unfold. The King sat at the head of a long, polished table, his face shadowed, his posture rigid with barely concealed frustration.He looked every bit the ruler who had been backed into a corner, and Kerrigan could see the cracks in his carefully maintained composure.To the world, the King was still a figure of unassailable authority, but here, in this private confrontation, he was a man fighting desperately to maintain control over a kingdom that was slipping through his fingers.“Come in,” the King said curtly, gesturing to the seats across from him. “We have matters to discuss that cannot wait.”Kerrigan and Conor ex
That night, as they sat in their quarters, Kerrigan spoke first. “The King will never truly hold Kelan accountable. He’s too valuable to him and his limited control over Gregor. The moment the trial ends, Kelan will find a way back to power or at least live in comfort, and nothing will change.”Conor stared out into the night, the city below still restless with the echoes of protest and dissent. The King’s ultimatum hung over them like a storm cloud, and every instinct told him that they were at a crossroads.Yet the path forward felt obscured, and the weight of the decision before them was crushing. The King had offered them a way out—a false peace that would preserve his power but betray everything they had fought for. And Conor knew, deep down, that they were running out of options.Kerrigan sat beside him, her face set in grim determination, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “We can’t accept his terms. This isn’t just about the Benedicts anymore. It’s about the so
Dear readers, I hope you are enjoying this long overdue addition to the series. I have every intention of finishing it THIS year (2024). However, I would like to hear from you about what that end should look like. I have mapped out three plans and outlined likely chapters for each, but I am very undecided as to Conor and Kerrigan's ultimate role. So let your voice be heard. Where do you see them ending up? What role feels right for them in 3 months, a year, ultimate titles. Again, my goal is to wrap this series up nicely and I think we are close with what I have prepared offline, but I am just looking for some thoughts form you all before I decide which chapters to post.Wishing you all the best, and happy reading!(Next on my list for over winter is to get Civilian Dragon Lord out.)
The morning sun cast an eerie glow over the capital, its light unable to cut through the tension that gripped the city. The High Council chamber, once a place of measured debate and quiet authority, had become a battleground of conflicting loyalties and simmering anger.Councilors who had spent years crafting laws and advising rulers now found themselves at odds, the trial having driven a wedge through their ranks. The once-unified body was on the verge of tearing itself apart.Conor and Kerrigan entered the chamber, feeling the weight of every stare, every whispered conversation. The trial had reached a critical juncture, and the pressure was palpable.The King’s ultimatum from the previous night hung over them like a dark cloud, but Conor and Kerrigan were not here to be swayed—they were here to stand their ground.The councilors took their seats, the tension almost tangible as the proceedings began. At the head of the room sat Lord Bravik of Pinon, the council’s most senior member,
The underground chamber was vast and dimly lit, its stone walls adorned with ancient carvings of dragons, their eyes glowing faintly as if watching the proceedings with silent judgment. The High Council, nobles, and select media representatives sat in the stone seats surrounding the room, their faces etched with a mix of fear, anticipation, and curiosity. At the center of the chamber, Conor, Kerrigan, and the King stood in a triangular formation on the triskele carved into the floor, with the dragons’ stones glowing between them.Abraxas loomed above them, his massive form flickering between reality and flame. His eyes, burning with emerald fire, fixed on Conor, who stood ready to face the first test. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of smoke and old magic, every breath charged with the weight of the trial about to unfold.With a sudden burst of heat, the flames surged around Conor, encasing him in a ring of fire that flared high and fierce. Gasps rippled
The chamber’s air grew heavy as Conor stepped back, the flames dimming slightly in response to his answers. All eyes turned to Kerrigan now. She felt the weight of their gazes—hopeful, skeptical, fearful—and knew that her trial would be no easier than Conor’s. Abraxas’s emerald eyes fixed on her, burning with a keen, relentless intensity that promised no mercy.The ancient stones seeming to press inward as Kerrigan stepped forward to face her trial. The crowd’s whispers rose and fell in hushed waves, their eyes fixed on her as the flames that had surrounded Conor receded. The weight of the moment was undeniable; this was not just a test of courage but a judgment that would strip away every pretense.The flames flared again, wrapping around Kerrigan in a fierce, swirling vortex that seemed almost alive, reacting to her every breath, every heartbeat. She felt the heat against her skin, not scorching but probing, searching for any sign of weakness. The dragon’s gaze was unblinking, his pr
Celia's voice, clear yet gentle, cut through the stillness left by Abraxas. Her presence was no less commanding, though her tone carried a weight of measured wisdom rather than fire.“Kerrigan Lokir,” Celia intoned softly, her golden eyes piercing through the lingering smoke. “You are bound to Abraxas by the flames of power, but power without wisdom is a blade without a hilt—dangerous to wield and likely to cut those closest to you. Will you, in the heat of your battles, remember to temper your strength with counsel, and will you accept guidance when the path ahead is obscured by your own fury?”The question hung in the air, a deeper challenge than Kerrigan had expected. It wasn’t just about her intentions or convictions—it was about her ability to listen, to be wise enough to seek counsel and to resist the pull of raw power when the stakes were highest. Celia’s gaze was steady, patient, yet the weight of her words made i
The chamber was suffused with a tense, expectant silence as the flames receded from Kerrigan. She stepped back, breathless but unbowed, and the eyes of everyone in the room turned to the last figure left to face the dragons’ judgment: King Ryu Pinon. The King stood rigid, his posture defiant, but there was no mistaking the tension in his clenched jaw and the beads of sweat that dotted his brow. His authority, his very right to rule, was about to be put to the ultimate test.Abraxas loomed above, his presence commanding and unyielding, his emerald eyes locked onto the King with a piercing intensity. Celia’s light danced around the edges of the chamber, illuminating every flicker of doubt and every whispered murmur from the crowd. They had seen Conor and Kerrigan face the flames with honesty and resolve, and now they waited to see if their King would do the same—or falter under the weight of his own sins.The flames roared to life once more, encircling