This isn't just any Black Dragon. This istheBlack Dragon. And he's found me – or rather, my magic.
"Bless my soul," a shaky voice echoes from behind me, drawing my attention. Professor Riggs rubs his glasses clean and slips them up the bridge of his nose, tears streaming down his face in wonder. "It's Vidarr." His eyes dart to mine. "After all these years, he's come back for the Shadow Wielder of our age."
With Vidarr back, my magic reunited with his, that can only mean one thing. A war is coming.
Angry voices are shouting across the table, my Uncle Soren at the head with his fingers pressed to his temple. The men on his council might be efficient in advising the king on economic and political agendas, but this is a matter completely out of their understanding. They were baffled my uncle permitted the Frost Elves to not only stay in the castle, but bring their dragons to our kingdom. And now, a rare black dragon – according to Professor Riggs, an ancient one who fought alongside Naya Valanor – has returned to our shores.
"They're afraid," I mutter under my breath.
"These old goats are scared of their own shadows," Ronan scoffs in agreement, his disdain for the elderly counselors apparent. "The moment I'm king, these morons will be out the door."
I tilt my head toward my cousin, peeling an apple with his pocketknife. "When you're king, they will be a lifeline in helping you. But when it comes to dragons, I fear they're out of their – "
"Minds," Ronan interjects with a wicked smile.
"Wheelhouse," I amend.
"Quit defending them, Atlas." My cousin drops the curled peel on the table. "If I know these fuckers as well as I think I do, they will demand for Vidarr to leave."
My eyes go wide. "But why? This is Vidarr – "
"The Destroyer," Ronan reminds me of his nickname.
"He has seen battle before," I press on. "What if he's returned because he knows we need him?"
Ronan squares his shoulders to mine, not caring what the lords around the room will think of his blatant side-conversation. "Fearful men make bad decisions, Atlas. And this lot are nothing but cowards."
A heavy fist slams down on the table, rattling the glasses. "Why has this dragon returned after all these years?" Lord Kattigan twists the ends of his impressively bushy moustache in clear irritation. His question is directed toward Professor Riggs who was brought in as an expert on this matter, but these men haven't given him proper time to get a word in.
As Riggs opens his mouth to answer, the pompous Lord Edgar interjects, "We must keep in mind this dragon's unstable condition. We all know what happened to his last rider."
"He is a danger to our people!" Lord Hess incites the others with his cry. "If Naya Valanor couldn't control the beast – "
"Naya's grief led to her demise, Lord Hess," I interrupt, no longer willing to let them slander Vidarr because of their fear. "She was never in control of her dragon. He was always his own master."
"You prove our point," Lord Hess offers a venomous smile.
"No," I sit up straighter, ready for a fight. "That only proves dragons choose to workwithmortals. We do not serve them. They do not serve us. There is a trust, a partnership. Vidarr is notresponsible for Naya Valanor's death. She is. And if Vidarr has returned and chosen me for his next rider – "
Lord Kattigan cackles, drawing my narrow-eyed gaze. "If you think for one second we are going to go along with your plan – "
"Vidarr and I have a connection." I find myself already protective over the dragon I've interacted with all of one time for five minutes.
"A connection?" Lord Edgar puffs his burly chest, wiping his monocle. "Preposterous! You can't expect this council to believe you and the dragon share some bond upon first meeting."
"I don't need to explain myself to you."
Ronan smiles beside me, sliding pieces of apple in his mouth.
Lord Kattigan shakes his head. "We cannot permit you to claim the ancient beast."
Thrane, who has remained silent and slouched in his chair opposite my uncle this entire meeting chuckles darkly. Ronan and I shoot him a curious look, while the rest of the men at the table frown at his interruption. I know it's eating a few of them alive that my uncle invited Thrane to join our conversation.
"Is there something you wish to say, King Thrane?" Lord Kattigan sighs in aggravation. His question is a formality; the man doesn't actually care what Thrane has to say.
Thrane ignores the blatant disrespect for now, but homes in on Kattigan. "Your choice of words amuses me, Lord Rattigan. You won'tpermitAtlas to claim Vidarr? Dragons do not abide by the laws of men. We do not claim dragons, dragons claim us. If Vidarr has chosen Atlas, that's the end of the matter."
"It'sKattigan," he corrects. "What you ask is egregious. You want us to agree to let an anomaly – "
