The Extra's Rise

The Royal Palace of Valdris rose from the mountainside like something carved from dragon's dreams—massive spires of obsidian and gold that seemed to grow naturally from the cliff face, their surfaces adorned with intricate carvings that told the history of the Southern continent's beast bloodline dynasties. As our convoy of luxury vehicles wound up the mountain road, Luna pressed her face against the window in wide-eyed amazement.

"Daddy, is that really where dragons live?" she whispered, her breath fogging the glass.

"Some of them," I confirmed, watching the palace grow larger as we approached. "The Viserion family has maintained alliance with Radiant Dragon Tiamat for over a thousand years."

Seraphina sat beside me with her characteristic poise, though I caught the slight tension in her posture that indicated she was as alert as I was to the political significance of this meeting. Reika, positioned across from us, had that particular stillness that meant she was cataloguing potential threats and escape routes.

The palace gates were flanked by massive statues of dragons in flight, their eyes set with gems that seemed to track our movement as we passed. Guards in ceremonial armor lined the approach, each one bearing the distinctive golden scales that marked them as members of the Royal Dragon Guard.

We were escorted through halls adorned with tapestries depicting ancient alliances between dragons and the beast bloodline families, the artwork emphasizing partnership rather than dominance. The air itself felt different—charged with the kind of primal power that came from centuries of draconic presence.

Prince Ian Viserion waited for us in the Throne Room of Scales, though he stood before the massive dragon-bone throne rather than sitting upon it. At nineteen, he had grown into the promise of his royal bloodline—tall and broad-shouldered, with flame-red hair that seemed to move with its own inner fire and golden eyes that held ancient wisdom beyond his years.

"Arthur! Seraphina!" His greeting was warm and genuine, the formal protocols giving way to the familiarity of academy friendships. "I heard you graduated early to focus on guild operations Arthur. How does it feel to be free of Professor Aldwin's economics lectures?"

"Like escaping a particularly verbose prison," I replied, clasping his offered hand. "Though I do miss some aspects of academy life. How are you managing to balance studies with royal duties?"

"Barely," he admitted with a grin that revealed slightly elongated canines—a mark of his draconic bloodline. "Father insists I finish my education properly, but situations like this require the heir to step up. Ouroboros has been making quite the impression across the continents."

Seraphina offered a graceful curtsy. "Your Highness. Mount Hua sends its regards and hopes for continued prosperity."

"Always the diplomat, even during academy breaks," Ian laughed. "Though I notice you didn't come alone this time, Arthur."

His golden eyes had found Luna, who was standing slightly behind me and staring up at him with the fascinated expression of a child meeting her first real prince. The butterfly pendant Seraphina had given her caught the light from the room's crystal chandeliers.

"This is Luna," I said, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. "My daughter."

"Your—" Ian's eyes widened before his expression shifted to one of delighted surprise. "Well, that's a development the academy gossip network definitely missed. Hello, Princess Luna."

Luna giggled at the title. "I'm not a princess, Your Highness. I'm just Luna."

"Nonsense," Ian said with mock seriousness, crouching down to her level. "Anyone brave enough to visit a dragon prince's palace is definitely princess material. Plus, your father's practically royalty himself these days."

The ice broken, we moved to a more comfortable meeting room where the serious discussions could begin. Luna was escorted to an adjoining playroom by palace staff who specialized in entertaining young guests, while Reika positioned herself where she could observe both rooms.

"Father sends his regrets that he couldn't meet with you personally," Ian began as servants brought refreshments. "The Council is in session, dealing with territorial disputes in the southern provinces against the Abyssal Kin. But he's authorized me to negotiate on behalf of the Southern continent's beast bloodline families."

"I appreciate the trust," I replied. "Especially considering you're juggling this with your academy responsibilities."

"Actually, this counts as my practical politics final project," Ian said with a wry smile.

The next several hours were spent in detailed discussions about Aetherite applications, market access, and the political implications of the technology. Ian proved to be every bit as sharp as I'd expected—he grasped the revolutionary potential of Aetherite immediately while also demonstrating a mature understanding of continental power dynamics that belied his nineteen years.

"The healing applications alone would transform our aerial combat capabilities," he said, reviewing Priscilla's technical specifications. "Our rider bloodline families operate in environments where conventional medical support is impossible."

"Exactly," I confirmed. "Aetherite-enhanced healing potions can function in extreme temperatures, high altitudes, even in the presence of hostile magical fields."

Seraphina added her own observations about supply chain logistics and defensive applications, her analytical mind complementing the strategic discussion perfectly. It was clear that despite our youth, we were all taking these negotiations with the seriousness they deserved.

As the afternoon wore on, we covered everything from mining rights to exclusive distribution agreements. Ian was particularly interested in Aetherite's potential for enhancing draconic magic, though he was careful not to reveal too many details about the Southern continent's most closely guarded bloodline secrets.

"I think we can reach an accord," Ian said finally as the sun began to set beyond the palace windows. "But I'll need to consult with the Council and send a full report to Father before finalizing terms. Shall we reconvene tomorrow morning?"

"Of course," I agreed. "These agreements are too important to rush, especially with your academic deadlines to consider."

"Don't remind me," Ian groaned. "I still have to write a ten-page essay for homework."

We returned to our guest quarters in the palace's west wing—luxurious apartments that had been designed to accommodate visiting dignitaries. Luna was exhausted from her day of exploration and fell asleep almost immediately after dinner, curled up in a bed that was probably worth more than most people's houses.

I stood on the balcony of our suite, looking out over the mountain valleys where distant dragons could occasionally be seen silhouetted against the stars. The negotiations had gone well, but something felt... off. There was an undercurrent of tension in the palace that I couldn't quite identify.

'Arthur Nightingale.'

The voice in my mind was unlike anything I'd ever experienced—ancient beyond measure, carrying the weight of eons and the authority of cosmic forces. It wasn't Luna's familiar presence nor of Erebus or Valeria or any other form of magical communication I recognized.

'He Who Breaks Fate. You have come all the way to me.'

I froze, every instinct screaming danger even as I couldn't identify the source of the voice.

'You have come far from the path that was written for you. But greater challenges await. The threads of fate you have severed are beginning to snap back, and the consequences—'

The voice was cut off by a sound that made the very mountains tremble—a roar that contained the fury of ancient storms and the power of geological forces. The night sky was suddenly filled with an impossible sight: a dragon of such immense size that it blotted out the stars, its scales gleaming like polished obsidian in the moonlight.

From inside the palace came shouts of alarm and the sound of running feet. Guards bellowed orders while magical alarms began to wail with urgent intensity.

But I knew this wasn't an attack.

This was Tiamat, the Radiant Dragon, eldest and strongest of the draconic species and the Southern continent's most powerful ally. A being so legendary that most people considered her a myth.

And she was descending directly toward the palace with the kind of urgent purpose that suggested something had gone catastrophically wrong.

Life can never be easy for me now can it?