Starting out as a Dragon Slave

While Mordred was still lost in his dark thoughts, a trumpet suddenly sounded loudly, cutting through the murmurs and animated discussions that filled the palace hall. All heads immediately turned towards the main entrance, where a herald in a crimson and gold tunic raised a solemn hand to attract attention.

- Make way! he announced in a powerful, clear voice. Welcome His Eminence, Guardian of the Original Fire, King Aegon of the Burning Fangs!

Instantly, a respectful, weighty silence fell as the gigantic doors slowly opened. King Aegon entered with a confident stride, imposing his regal presence with a natural majesty that overwhelmed all else. His impressive stature, draped in a dark red cloak embroidered with pure gold, underlined the brutal power contained beneath his perfect humanoid appearance. Mordred instinctively felt an overwhelming magical pressure emanating from him, a burning but controlled aura, the absolute symbol of the kingdom’s sovereign strength.

- Glory to King Aegon!" cried the crowd with unanimous deference, noble dragons and simple servants alike bowing deeply.

Then another bell rang, distinct and vibrant, announcing an important new arrival:

- Welcome now His Highness, heir to the kingdom and future king, Prince Maelor of the Burning Fangs!

The crowd cheered enthusiastically as the young prince strode through the door, a charismatic smile lighting up his cool, elegant face. Mordred immediately felt a striking contrast between the king’s mature assurance and the ambitious ardor of his son, Prince Maelor, who was clearly appreciated by his people, who cheered him with fervor and sincere admiration.

Finally, a third trumpet blast sounded, softer but surprisingly vibrant with a strange, almost sacred emotion:

- And now... murmured the herald with deep respect, welcome Her Royal Highness, Queen Alenya of the Burning Fangs, Supreme Oracle, Holder of the gift of divination!

A murmur of surprise immediately ran through the entire hall, faces clearly expressing general amazement. Even Elystria at her side seemed momentarily frozen in astonishment. Queen Alenya, an almost legendary figure whom no one had seen for a long time, slowly entered the room, accompanied by two servants who discreetly supported her. Her slender, delicate figure was wrapped in a gown of pure silver, adorned with precious stones glittering like stars.

Her gait was slow, but imbued with a supreme, almost supernatural grace. Her face, though marked by fatigue and apparent weakness, exuded unfathomable wisdom, her deep, clear eyes shining with a mysterious light.