The next morning...
Sunlight streamed through the carved windows of Beast City's great hall, painting golden patterns across the stone floor. The air smelled faintly of incense and roasted herbs.
The Patriarch sat at the head of the long table, his expression stern but composed.
Gone was the boyish excitement he had shown over the Moonclaw Nectar last night.
Rayna entered with Soren, Yunxi and Ezra trailing behind, the latter still rubbing his temples from the aftereffects of the drink.
Darian stumbled in last, looking as though his head might split open. He groaned and collapsed into his chair.
The Patriarch's eyes narrowed. "If you can walk, you can sit properly. Straighten up."
"Yes, Father," Darian muttered, forcing himself upright.
Once they had all taken their seats, the Patriarch's gaze turned to Rayna.
"So, Rayna..." His tone softened a little. "Yesterday, you began to explain why you came here. I let it rest, since the night was meant for celebration. But now, I would want to hear the rest."
Rayna nodded, taking a breath before speaking.
"As you know... I'm a dragon. But there's something else. I carry a mark on my back. Sometimes it glows—a bright red—and when it does, it burns... painfully. Not always, but enough that I can't ignore it. I don't know why it happens, or what it means."
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Recently, I felt a surge of power. I can't explain it, but I think the mark is its source."
Rayna stopped short of describing the incident in detail, keeping that part to herself.
The Patriarch leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful as her words sank in.
"Hm... a mark that glows and burns. On your back, you said?"
Rayna gave a small nod.
"I've seen warriors carve symbols into their flesh, marks of pride or devotion. But those don't glow, nor do they stir with power."
His eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "Since you're a dragon, I believe this is something far older... something unique to your kind."
He exhaled slowly, almost regretfully. "I'm afraid I know little of dragon-kind. Those Dragons guard their secrets fiercely. They reveal nothing of themselves. Not their ways, not their powers. Even among us clans, they remain an enigma."
"So it's hopeless?" Rayna murmured, frustration edging her tone.
Darian, after a moment of pondering, spoke up. "Father... isn't the Dragon Clan's delegation coming to Beast City soon?"
The Patriarch's head turned sharply. "They accepted our proposal?" His voice carried a hint of disbelief.
"No," Darian admitted, rubbing his temples, "but they said they wanted to discuss it in detail."
For a moment, silence hung heavy.
Then the Patriarch's eyes widened. "After so many years... they'll set foot in Beast City again?" His voice carried a mixture of disbelief and gravity.
Slowly, his gaze shifted to Rayna. "It seems you are fortunate, child. The dragons are coming themselves. Perhaps you should ask them directly about this mark."
Rayna's eyes lit with hope. "Really? You'd arrange that for me?"
The Patriarch gave a firm nod. "Yes. I will see to it. But be prepared — dragons are proud, and they reveal little without reason. But since you yourself are a dragon, it will be easier."
Rayna straightened in her seat, determination replacing her earlier despair.
"That would be... great."
"But why is the delegation coming now? Soren asked.
The Patriarch leaned back with a long sigh, his eyes clouded with memory.
"Well, dragons are not like us. As you know, they are creatures above us — majestic, powerful, clever... and always distant. They do not mingle with those who walk on the ground unless they must."
He paused, fingers drumming lightly against the armrest.
"When I first became Beast Lord, I thought I could change that. I wanted to strengthen our bonds with them, seek their wisdom for the growth of Beast City, and even their aid against the half-beasts." His lips pressed into a thin line. "But... I was young then. Too proud. Too certain of myself."
A weary chuckle escaped him, though there was no humor in it. "I lacked the art of diplomacy, and the talks soured. The dragons left dissatisfied. They had given us guidance it was they who suggested the canal that now guards our city. A gift of protection."
His expression darkened with regret. "And yet, I managed to anger them all the same. My father... he scolded me harshly for that blunder. Said I had let arrogance cloud judgment."
"It is not so simple to gain the favor of dragons. They do not forgive missteps easily. I hope the talks go smoothly this time. The fact that they have agreed to discuss the proposal themselves is already great." The Patriarch said.
Soren inclined his head slightly. "Understood. This delegation... it holds special importance to us."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Darian groaned, rubbing his temples. "But that just means I've got to handle a mountain of preparations." He turned toward his brother with pitiful eyes.
"Brother, please—help me now that you're here?"
Soren arched a brow. "Why should I? You're the Beast Lord, aren't you?"
"Please, grace a little sympathy on your younger brother, on whom you practically dumped the responsibility and ran away," Darian pleaded dramatically, clasping his hands together.
Soren let out a small smirk. "Fine. I'll guide you."
After breakfast, as Rayna, Ezra, Soren, and Yunxi rose to leave, the Patriarch's voice called them back. "Rayna. We have an archive—scrolls, old scripts, records of the past. If you ever wish to study them, ask Darian. He will give you the key."
Rayna bowed her head respectfully. "Thank you so much. I'll keep that in mind."
Once outside, Soren walked a little closer to her. "My love, as you saw, Darian needs help. Should I stay with him?"
Rayna gave him a sidelong look, one brow arched. "Why are you asking me? Just go."
Soren leaned closer, voice low and teasing. "Because if you'd rather, I could give you a massage instead... and take care of you."
Rayna's mind stumbled, a faint blush blooming across her cheeks at the implication. "Just—go."
Soren chuckled, eyes gleaming as he stole a quick, deep kiss. "See you soon, my love."
As Rayna sat in her room, her thoughts churned.
"I need to find out about my mark... That surge of power, the red sphere of energy, that voice. I don't want to lose control again."
Ezra flopped down beside her and, without warning, pulled her onto his lap.
"Soren did me so unfair," he complained dramatically. "I slept an entire night without you. Can you believe that?"
Rayna chuckled. "You were drunk, Ezra."
"Yeah, but still—you guys ditched me last night."
"Okay, fine," Rayna teased, poking his cheek. "I'll make sure that doesn't happen again."
Ezra's grin returned, bright as ever. He hugged her tighter.
"But Rayna, when you go to talk to the dragons, take us along too, okay? Don't go alone. You know how worried we get about you." Ezra said looking into Rayna's eyes.
Rayna softened at his words and nodded. "Of course. I'd never go alone—I always need you guys."
His smile widened as he pressed his forehead lightly against hers. "My sunshine."
Rayna's lips curved faintly, though her mind soon drifted elsewhere.
The thought of the dragons' delegation loomed large in her head—answers might finally be within reach.
And then there was the archive the Patriarch had mentioned.
"Oh right... the archive. Maybe I should explore that too." She mused, her eyes sparkled to explore what all she could find in there.