Page 57 of Stolen By Dragons

"Very well," he said. "We'll make the necessary arrangements. Eirian, you'll oversee this. Ensure that each bonded pair has suitable accommodations that can safely house both human and dragon."

I nodded. "I'll see to it immediately."

As we left Elara's chambers, my father pulled me aside. "Remember, Eirian, your role is crucial. You must guide them, watch them, and report back to us. The fate of Dracaria may well rest on the strength of these bonds."

I felt the weight of responsibility settle even more heavily on my shoulders. "I understand, Father. I won't let you down."

I hesitated, then voiced the concern that had been gnawing at me. "And what of the Void? It continues to spread. Dracarians from the outer lands are fleeing to the central kingdoms. I know there is unrest and fear. How much time do we truly have?"

My mother's eyes flashed with a mix of concern and irritation. "Eirian," she said, her voice tight, "your focus must be on the task at hand. Work with the tainted ones, prepare them and their dragons for the battle ahead. Leave the greater concerns to us."

I bowed my head, outwardly submitting while inwardly seething. As I did, unbidden, an image of Aria flashed through my mind. The way she had looked at me after I'd protected her, her eyes wide with gratitude and something else I couldn't quite name. For a moment, I'd seen her not as a "tainted one" or an earth-dweller, but simply as... Aria.

The memory stirred something within me, something I wasn't accustomed to feeling. I thought of how she and the others had thrown themselves into their training, how they'dbanded together in the face of overwhelming circumstances. Many had resisted at first, arguing against the fate thrust upon them. But over time, they'd come to accept their role, their purpose - even if some did so grudgingly.

As we parted ways, my mind whirled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The situation was far more complex than I'd initially realized. The Void was closing in, driving Dracarians from their homes and pressing ever closer to the heart of our realm. And now, instead of awakened ancient dragons, we had a clutch of hatchlings to contend with.

But as I hurried off to begin the preparations, I couldn't help but think of Aria and her white dragon. The way they looked at each other, the instant connection that had formed between them. There was something there, something powerful and potentially world-changing.

And I, a dragon prince of Dracaria, found myself both terrified and exhilarated by the possibilities that lay ahead.

Could we truly stop the Void? Or were we, as my darkest fears whispered, simply delaying the inevitable?

I shook my head, trying to dispel such fatalistic thoughts. No, we had to believe there was hope. The old magic had responded in unexpected ways, true, but perhaps that very unexpectedness was what we needed to turn the tide.

As I made my way back to the Great Hall, my resolve strengthened. Whatever my personal doubts or conflicted feelings, I had a duty to fulfill. I would guide Aria and the others, help them bond with their dragons, and prepare them for the challenges ahead. I would be the council's eyes and ears, as they desired, but I couldn't shake the feeling that my role might become more complicated than any of us had anticipated.

And perhaps, in doing so, I might come to understand the strange new feelings stirring within my own heart.

22

ARIA

The Great Hall buzzed with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty as Eirian addressed our group. His face was a mask of calm authority, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes darted between us and our newly hatched dragons. The air felt charged with an energy I couldn't quite name - part magic, part anticipation, and part fear of the unknown.

"The dragons are to remain with you in your rooms," he announced, his voice carrying across the hall. "We've adjusted the magical wards of the Keep to neutralize their breath abilities within the living areas. This is for everyone's safety until we can better understand and control their powers."

I looked down at the small white dragon curled in my arms, its iridescent scales shimmering in the light like freshly fallen snow catching the first rays of dawn. It gazed back at me with those mesmerizing purple eyes, deep and mysterious as twilight. The thought of being responsible for this tiny, magical creaturewas both thrilling and terrifying. What did I know about raising a dragon? And yet, somehow, it felt right.

Around me, my friends were getting acquainted with their own dragons, each pairing as unique as it was miraculous. Chris's earth-toned dragon perched on his shoulder, its tail curled around his neck like a living scarf. The creature's scales were a mosaic of browns and greens, reminiscent of a forest floor. Every now and then, it would nuzzle Chris's cheek, eliciting a grin from him.

Zephyr's silver dragon flitted around his head, creating tiny whirlwinds that ruffled the fae's hair. Its movements were quick and graceful, almost too fast for the eye to follow. The air around Zephyr seemed to shimmer, as if the very atmosphere was responding to the dragon's presence.

Lydia's water dragon sat regally on her shoulder, its scales glistening like dewdrops in the morning sun. It was slightly larger than the others, with webbed feet and fins along its back. Every so often, it would shake itself, sending a light spray of water droplets cascading around Lydia.

As I glanced around the room, I realized with relief that everyone had successfully bonded with a dragon. No one had been left out, which eased a worry I hadn't even realized I'd been harboring. Each pair seemed perfectly matched, as if the dragons had chosen their humans as much as we had chosen them.

“Yours is quite reserved, isn’t it?” Chris commented, coming to stand beside me. His dragon chirped loudly, as if to emphasize the point, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the hall.

I nodded, a flicker of concern crossing my face. "Yeah, it's been pretty quiet compared to the others. Do you think that's normal?"

Zephyr joined us, his dragon performing aerial acrobatics around his head, leaving trails of silvery light in its wake. "Eachdragon seems to have its own personality," he mused, his eyes following his dragon's movements with a mix of pride and wonder. "Yours just might be the calm, thoughtful type."

"Or maybe it's just taking everything in," Lydia chimed in, her maternal instincts clearly extending to our new companions. Her water dragon trilled softly in agreement. "Not all children are boisterous, you know. Some are just more observant."

I looked down at my dragon, which was watching the others with keen interest, its purple eyes studying them. Occasionally, it would make soft trills or chirps, as if commenting on what it saw. "I guess you're right," I said, stroking its head gently. "It does seem to be paying close attention to everything."

"We should probably think about naming them," Chris suggested, scratching his dragon under its chin. It let out a contented purr that sounded almost like a cat, its eyes half-closing in bliss. "Any ideas for yours, Aria?"