The capital stood majestic within the confines of an inactive volcano. Its walls were massive with dragon banners snapping with the wind.
Its gates were forged from the remains of fallen civilizations. Ancient and glorious was the city of Uruk.
Auryn's horse stumbled. Exhausted. He steadied it and pushed forward. The countdown had long since expired. Hours ago.
He was late.
It didn't matter. He was here.
The gates loomed. Guards straightened as he approached. They recognized his silver hair and bearing despite his awful state.
One of the guards stepped forward. Eyes widening.
"Your Highness—"
Auryn rode past. Didn't slow down for anyone. He went through the gates, into the capital proper.
The streets were busy. Midday crowd forming. Merchants, nobles and servants.
They parted as he approached. Stares and whispers followed him like a wake.
"Is that...?"
"Third Prince..."
"Look at him—what happened?"
"His eyes—"
Auryn ignored them. Kept riding.
The palace grounds appeared. Marble and stone. Built into the volcanic mountainside. Ancient. Imposing.
He dismounted at the steps.
His legs nearly gave out but he caught himself on the horse's flank. Stood straight. Forcing his body to obey.
He looked down briefly. His boots were gone. Lost during his transformation. His feet were wrapped in torn cloth from his cloak. Creating makeshift footwear.
He started climbing the steps of the main palace.
"My lord!"
Auryn stopped.
Borin rushed down the steps. Relief and horror warring on his face.
The dwarf's eyes swept over him. Taking in everything. The dust, blood and ash that coated everything. His bandaged hand and makeshift footwear that left him barefooted.
The scars on his forearms where scales had emerged.
"By the Flame—what happened?"
"I live," Auryn answered flatly. His voice rough and dry.
"Where's the council?"
"In session. Started two hours ago." Borin's jaw tightened. "Vaedon's already moving. Proposing restructures. Targeting your holdings."
Of course he was.
"Then I need to go in."
Borin grabbed his arm gently. "My lord. You should change. Clean up. At least—"
"There's no time for that."
"Auryn—"
"No. Time." He repeated.
Borin's jaw stiffened. Then he sighed.
"Stubborn as dragon-forged steel. Fine. But when Vaedon tries to gut you, don't say I didn't warn you."
"Noted."
He smiled, fell into step beside Auryn. He didn't argue any further. Simply trusting Auryn's decision.
He trusts me. Even when I look like this. Even when I'm making decisions that terrify him.
The realization settled warm in Auryn's chest.
They climbed together. Making their way to the meeting.
They arrived at a walkway. The throne room entrance loomed.
Extravagant doors, twenty feet tall with dragon carvings stood like a monument unshaken by time. Its structure, a mixture of enchanted wood and steel.
Two guards flanked them. Ceremonial armor. Spears crossed.
Auryn approached. Hood still up. Shadowing his face.
The guards shifted. They were uncertain but something radiated from Auryn. Heat. Pressure. Danger.
His dragon aura had recovered during the ride—not his body, but his presence. The exhaustion loosened his restraint, letting it spill out unchecked.
The guards felt it. Instinctive and primal.
They stepped back. Auryn didn't stop walking forward.
Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten.
The pressure built. Invisible weight pressing down. Making the air thick and imposing.
When he was five feet close. The doors groaned. There was no wind neither any mechanism.
Just sheer presence. Power given form. Will made manifest.
The doors swung open.
They opened of their own accord. Not daring to remain closed in his presence.
Inside, conversations died mid-sentence. Vaedon's hand froze on his armrest. Draelor's eyes narrowed, crimson gaze fixed on the widening gap.
Then Auryn stepped through.
The council chamber fell silent. Every head turned towards the door.
The room was circular. With a golden ceiling that seemed to have no end. The more one looked, the further it extended.
At the center were three thrones arranged in a triangle. Each elevated. They were of equal height if not in power.
The left throne: Daelor sat. His armor gave off a mild gleam. Crimson eyes fixed on the doorway.
The right throne: Vaedon. Elegant in noble attire. Smile frozen mid-gesture.
The rear throne: Empty and waiting.
Around them, arranged in a semi-circle, the Elder Council. Ten ancient nobles in ceremonial robes. Witnesses. Advisors. Politically neutered but historically significant.
Behind them were courtiers. Lesser nobles. Observers.
They all stared at the entrance. At Auryn.
He stepped through. No boots, bare feet—silent on glowing marble floors.
His cloak hung heavy with dust and ash. Blood stained the edges. His clothes beneath were torn, travel-worn. Marked with combat.
Bandages wrapped his hands. Blood seeping through the cloth but never touching the ground.
His face was drawn and exhausted. Marked with minor cuts.
And his eyes were in their dual form. The left was crimson and slitted. Right was gold and pupil-less. Both blazing in the throne room's light.
He reached up. Pulled his hood back. Silver hair spilled free. Tangled with dust.
The silence deepened.
Someone gasped. A noble in the back. Quickly stifled.
Whispers started. Rippling through the observers.
"His eyes—"
"What happened to him—"
"Look at his hands—"
"Is he... barefoot?"
Auryn walked. Each step, coldly precise.
I'm really in the Triarch council? This is so fucking cool. His mind raced.
His mental eyes twinkled at the grandeur of the hall while he remained expressionless outwardly.
He walked past Draelor's throne. The First Prince leaned forward. Eyes narrowed. Assessing.
Your Highness. He spoke inwardly.
He got past Vaedon's throne. The Second Prince's smile had vanished. Genuine surprise in his eyes. Masked like it wasn't there.
Fucking snake…
He moved to his own throne. The smallest in size not height. The lowest in perceived power.
He turned and sat without uttering a word.
The moment he sat. His draconic aura pulsed once like a heartbeat.
Several nobles in the front row leaned back instinctively.
Auryn looked at the presiding Elder. An ancient man with white beard and nervous eyes.
"You may continue," Auryn said. His voice cut through the whispers. Authority oozing with each word.
The Elder fumbled the parchment. "Y-Your Highness. You're... we were—"
"Late. I know." Auryn settled into his throne despite the screaming of his ribs. "What's being discussed?"
S-Stay confident. He recited inwardly.
---
Vaedon recovered first. His expression shifted. Concern replacing surprise. The perfect mask.
"Brother." His voice was warm. Solicitous. "You look... unwell. Perhaps you should rest? We can reconvene—"
"No." Auryn's eyes fixed on him. "I'm here. Continue."
Vaedon's smile tightened. "Of course, if you're certain you're... capable."
"I'm seated." He leaned further into the metal throne. "I'm listening."
A muscle twitched at Vaedon's temple but his smile remained.
The Elder cleared his throat, trying to regain control. "We were discussing territorial reorganization. Border defense protocols."
"Specifically," Vaedon said smoothly, "the vulnerabilities in the eastern holdings."
Here it comes.
"Aurelia Province has suffered significant instability. Series of raids and assassinations."
Vaedon's tone was reasonable. Concerned. "Tax collection failures, guard defections, the people suffer."
"Your point?" Auryn asked flatly. Not batting an eye.
"Consolidation." Vaedon spread his hands.
"Under unified command. Stronger leadership to stabilize the region."
Now what would you do little brother. A sly smirk on his face.
"No." The word hung in the air.
Vaedon blinked. "Brother, be reasonable—"
"No." Auryn didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. "My lands. My people. My responsibility."
"Your responsibility has led to chaos—" Vaedon interjected.
"Has it?" Auryn leaned forward. His aura instinctively flared up. Exhaustion had loosened his control.
"Or has YOUR infiltration created that chaos? Your agents. Your schemes."
The room went cold.
Quiet.
Vaedon's smile vanished completely. His eyes hardening.
"Careful, little brother. Accusations require proof."
"And territory requires strength." Auryn met his gaze. "You want my lands? Come take them."
Pressure built up around the room.
Dragon aura radiating from Auryn. Not controlled. Just heavy and oppressive.
The nobles closer to the thrones felt the exertion. It was so uncomfortable that their instincts kept screaming danger.
Even the Elders looked uneasy.
Auryn didn't notice. Too exhausted to care about subtlety. About politics. Just defiance.
Draelor's voice cut through the tension with authority.
"He survived."
All eyes immediately turned to the First Prince.
Draelor hadn't moved. Still sitting. But his gaze was fixed on Auryn now.
"Whatever he faced out there—" Draelor gestured vaguely toward Auryn's state, "—he's standing here. That's proof enough."
Vaedon's eyes narrowed. "Proof of survival. Not competence."
"Survival IS competence," Draelor said. "In our world, it's the only measure that matters."
He looked at Auryn directly. "But proof fades. Show continued strength or you'll lose everything anyway."
A subtle challenge was issued.
Auryn nodded slowly. "Understood."
The Elder seized the moment. Desperate to move forward. "Perhaps we table this discussion for—"
"Agreed," Vaedon said smoothly cutting him off. His mask back in place.
"No need to press an injured brother."
He stood. Others began standing as well. Meeting concludes.
Vaedon walked past Auryn's throne. Paused beside it. Leaned down. Close enough only Auryn heard.
"Safe travels home, little brother." His voice warm.
"The roads can be... treacherous. Especially in your... condition."
He straightened. Smiled and walked away.
But Author's Eyes caught it. The crimson aura pulsing. Black veins threading through.
Malice resonating.
He's already set the trap. That snake.
The chamber emptied up quickly. Nobles filing out. Whispering. Stealing glances at Auryn.
Borin approached. Offered his arm. Auryn took it. He steadied himself with the help of Borin. His legs were already giving out slowly.
"Come on, lad. Private quarters."
They walked through corridors. Servants pressed against walls. Staring.
They entered Auryn's room within the palace. Inside his personal council waited in the quarters.
He dismissed them quickly—territory was stable, traitor guards rooted out. That was enough for now.
Once they were out. Borin gestured to clean clothes laid out on the bed.
"Change, eat and rest my lord."
Auryn wanted to argue. He needed to leave immediately but his body screamed otherwise.
He reluctantly nodded and stripped. He washed face and hands in a basin of water.
He quickly wore the clean and simple robe. Black pants and boots.
Borin set food on the table. Bread. Meat. Cheese. Water.
Auryn sat and ate, though every movement pulled at his ribs.
"One hour," Borin said firmly. "Then we leave."
"One hour," Auryn agreed. He lay on the bed. Closed his eyes. His thoughts loud in his head.
Vaedon's trap is waiting but I think I can handle this o–. Sleep pulled him under before he could finish the thought.
---
An hour later Auryn's eyes opened. Borin stood by the door. Axe on his back. Waiting patiently.
Auryn sat up. Body protesting but obeying now. An hour wasn't enough but it was something.
He stood. Looked at Borin. The dwarf's silver aura steady. Loyal. Absolute.
By the side. Everything else was arranged.
"Ready?" Borin asked.
"Aye."
They left the chamber to the stables where his horse waited. Already fed and refreshed.
He mounted her as Borin followed behind on another horse. Together they rode through the city to the gates of Uruk.
The sun hung low. Afternoon bleeding toward evening. The road home stretched ahead.
And somewhere on it, Vaedon's trap waited.
A shadow passed overhead. Auryn glanced up.
A hawk. Black feathers. Circling.
Vaedon's messenger.
Borin followed his gaze. "He knows we're coming."
"Good." Auryn's hands tightened on the reins.
"Let him prepare."
A/N : Thanks for Reading so far... Please do well to comment, Review and assist with power stones if you like the story. It helps others see it too.
Trust me it gets better! More intrigue, good action and steamy romance soon.