Page 76 of Stolen By Dragons

A heavy silence fell over the chamber as we processed her words. The weight of responsibility pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. I looked around at the faces of our council, seeing my own fears and doubts reflected in their eyes.

"So," my mother said, breaking the silence, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade, "these dragons and their riders are our only hope. A hope we cannot even be certain of."

Elara nodded solemnly. "It is a slim hope, yes. But it is hope nonetheless. And in the face of the Void, even the smallest light can push back the darkness."

As the seer's words faded, the council erupted into debate. Voices rose and fell, arguments for caution warring with pleasfor immediate action. The chamber, usually a place of order and decorum, descended into near chaos once again, something that was becoming far too frequent as of late.

"We must tell our people," Lord Caelum insisted, his fist pounding the table with each word. "They deserve to know the truth of our situation. We cannot keep them in the dark any longer!"

"And cause panic?" Lady Aurelia countered, her voice sharp with disapproval. "We'd have riots in the streets, mass exoduses. We'd be doing the Void's work for it!"

I listened to the arguments, my mind racing. On one hand, I understood the need for transparency. Our people were not fools; they knew something was amiss, they knew the Void was moving in, and we’d told them all would be well with the awakening of the dragons, although we’d hidden their actual awakening for now. The fear and uncertainty were already spreading, fueled by rumors and half-truths. But on the other hand, the fragile hope that Elara's vision offered could easily be crushed under the weight of fear and doubt.

My father raised his hand, the simple gesture silencing the council more effectively than any shout could have. "We will tell them," he declared, his voice brooking no argument. "But not everything."

I felt a knot form in my stomach, a sense of unease creeping over me. "Father?"

He turned to me, his eyes hard with the burden of leadership. I could see the toll this decision was taking on him, the weight of an entire world's fate pressing down on his shoulders. "We will tell them of the dragons' rebirth, of the hope they represent. But we will... omit the uncertainties. Our people need assurance, not more fear."

"You mean to lie to them," I said, unable to keep the disapproval from my voice. The words tasted bitter on my tongue, a betrayal of everything I thought we stood for.

My mother's hand came to rest on my arm, her touch both comforting and restraining. "We mean to give them hope, Eirian. Sometimes, that requires careful management of the truth."

I wanted to argue, to insist on complete honesty. It went against everything I believed in, everything I thought our rule stood for. But as I looked around the room, at the weary faces of our council, at the fear barely hidden behind masks of determination, I realized the weight of the decision before us.

"Very well," I said, the words feeling like a surrender. "What would you have me do?"

My father's expression softened slightly, a flicker of the man I knew beneath the mask of kingship. "You will continue to work with the Earthlings and their dragons. Push them, train them. They are our best hope, Eirian. You must prepare them for what's to come."

I nodded, my mind already racing with how to go about the task. As the council began to discuss the specifics of their announcement, I found my thoughts drifting to Aria and the others. I felt for them, under this weight we’d burdened them with. We’d stolen them from the lives they knew and revealed a darkness to them, a horrific battle that they had to fight.

But they wouldn’t fight it alone. I’d inform them of that, assure them we’d be by their sides, and hope that it helped strengthen their own hope and fight.

As I left the council chamber, the weight of duty pressing down on me, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were making a mistake. Lies, even those told with the best intentions, had a way of unraveling. And in the face of the Void, could we afford any weakness in our defenses?

But my path was set. I would train the Earthlings, prepare them as best I could for what lay ahead. The future of Dracaria, of both our worlds, hung in the balance. And I, a prince caught between truth and duty, would play a pivotal role in shaping that future.

I paused at the window, looking out over the sprawling expanse of our kingdom. The lights of the city twinkled within the trees, each one representing a life, a family, a future that depended on the decisions we made. The weight of that responsibility settled over me heavily.

With a deep breath, I turned away from the window. The path before us was uncertain, fraught with danger and difficult choices. But we had no choice but to walk it, for the sake of our people, for the sake of everything.

As I prepared for bed, my mind still whirling with plans and worries, I found myself thinking of Aria. Her strength, her determination, her ability to adapt to this strange new world – it gave me hope. Perhaps, with her and the other Earthlings by our side, we stood a chance against the darkness that threatened to engulf us all. Along with their dragons.

With that thought, I closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment of peace before the storm that was surely coming.

31

ARIA

The morning sun bathed the Dragon Keep in a warm, golden light as Elowen led us down to the courtyard. My dragon, perched on my shoulder, chirped excitedly, its purple eyes wide with wonder at the new sights and smells. I could feel its tiny heart racing with anticipation, mirroring my own excitement.

"You've all been granted access to the Keep's grounds," Elowen announced, her voice carrying a hint of pride. "But remember, you cannot venture beyond into the kingdom. Your dragons deserve to stretch their wings properly, to feel the sun on their scales."

A ripple of excitement passed through our group. After weeks of confinement within the Keep's stone walls, the prospect of open air and freedom was intoxicating. I felt a surge of joy, mingled with a touch of nervousness. This was the first time we'd truly be out in the open since arriving in Dracaria.

As soon as Elowen gave the signal, our dragons took to the sky. The air filled with a chorus of joyful chirps and the whoosh of small wings. My own dragon hesitated for a moment, nuzzlingmy cheek before joining its brethren in the air. I watched it go with a mixture of pride and anxiety.

I watched in awe as the tiny creatures danced through the sky, their scales glittering in the sunlight. It was a breathtaking sight, one that made my heart swell with a mixture of pride and wonder. For a moment, I forgot about all our troubles – the Void, the prophecy, the complicated tangle of my personal relationships. In that instant, there was only the beauty of our dragons reveling in their freedom.