The Fiery Crown Cycle: A Dragon's Rebirth

Chapter 114

His right claw plunged into the fire, retrieving a piece of roasted meat. The surface was charred.

No matter, he thought. Doesn't affect the taste.

He tossed the meat from his claw, sending it in an arc to his right.

A pair of crystalline white eyes tracked its descent.

A-woomf!

A white muzzle snapped open and caught it mid-air. The moment she bit down, those white eyes went wide.

"Yee-owch! Rawr! Hot! Hot! Hot!"

She dropped the meat from her muzzle, fumbling to catch it in her claws, juggling the scalding piece back and forth.

The red, vertical pupils of the other dragon shifted right. He shot a sideways glance at the idiot. A small smirk tugged at his muzzle.

The fool seemed to have completely forgotten she was a white dragon.

After another moment of frantic juggling, she finally seemed to remember. Her white muzzle opened, and a stream of freezing breath washed over the meat. A thick layer of frost instantly coated the roast.

Finally clued in, huh?

The red pupils turned back to the fire. He settled down, lying flat on the cave floor.

Nom, nom.

She devoured the now-frozen meat in a few bites, and her large, scarlet tongue darted out to lick the grease from her claws.

Sooo yummy! Aiden’s barbecue is getting better and better, rawr!

Her crystalline white eyes looked at the red form lying next to her. Aiden is a good dragon, rawr!

She padded over, pressing her white body against his red one. Her round, white head nuzzled against his scale-covered neck.

"Can I have more, please, rawr?"

He stared as she proceeded to smear grease all over his clean scales. His long, slender red tail snaked over and gave her head a firm shove, pushing her away.

"Wait a little longer."

"Rawr-kay! Okey-dokey, rawr!"

Bianca fell silent. Hmmph. It’s definitely not because I’m scared of that tail, she thought. Bianca the White Dragon is fearless, rawr!

Another ten minutes passed. The aroma in the cave grew richer, thicker.

That should be enough.

The red dragon pushed himself up on his claws. He glanced at his companion. A large pool of drool had formed on the cave floor beneath her open maw.

He looked away, stood, and pulled off another large piece of meat. Steam and flavor wafted from it. His red muzzle opened.

Chomp.

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He bit down. Chew, chew.

Mmm. Delicious. Even better than last time. The rich, meaty flavor was perfectly balanced with the subtle taste of the flamepepper berries, mushrooms, and wild onion. All it needed was a little salt.

He felt a cool feedback as her scales pressed against his side again. His red pupils slid right. The round, white head was lifted high, crystalline eyes unblinking and fixed on the meat in his claw.

"Aiden-rawr~ I want some too, rawr!"

His eyes snapped away. "Go get it yourself."

"Aiden's the best, rawr!"

With a happy yelp, her white claw shot out toward the roast.

They went through three full rounds of barbecue. Finally, the two of them, a red and a white wyrmling, lay side-by-side, bellies swollen and round, facing the cave entrance. The larger red wyrmling lay perfectly still, while the white one beside him occasionally twitched her tail.

***

Stonefang. A border outpost on the edge of the Rhoyce Empire, bordering the beastmen kingdoms.

Inside a simple wooden house, Cassian sat at a desk, dressed in light knight's armor. A single, sealed letter rested on the dark wood.

It was an appointment letter from the Fourth Prince.

He picked up the envelope, used a small knife to cleanly break the wax seal, and unfolded the parchment.

To the esteemed Cassian Valerius:

The Beastmen have now allied with the Orcs. Their strength has grown. The eastern front village of Redham has fallen. Cassian Valerius is hereby ordered to proceed to Redham, drive out the beastmen, and reclaim the village for the glory of the Empire.

It was brief. Cassian’s expression remained calm as he set the letter down.

He retrieved a fresh sheet of parchment and began to write.

To the College of Heraldry:

I, Cassian Valerius, do hereby establish Thea Valerius as the heir to my title.

When he finished, Cassian took his knife, slit his thumb, and pressed a bloody print onto the parchment below his name. He folded the letter, melted a stick of wax, and sealed it.

Tap. Tap.

His fingers drummed twice on the desk before stopping. A bitter smile touched his lips. Getting muddled, he thought. I forgot again. The Ring of Valerius is already with Thea.

He stood from the chair and walked to the door.

Screee.

He pushed the wooden door open. Two knights stood guard outside. They were his confidants, men he had personally trained for years.

"Thomas, take this letter to the College of Heraldry."

The figure on the right, clad in silver-white armor, stiffened. He understood the significance of the College. Thomas reached out and took the envelope. "As you command, my lord."

Cassian looked away from the kneeling man to the knight on the left. "Robert, you go with him."

"As you command, my lord."

Ignoring the two men now kneeling on the ground, Cassian strode toward the simple training yard.

"Hyah! Hah!"

Clang!

Knights were running drills in the yard. In nearly two years, these men had been transformed. Their numbers had been cut down from three thousand to just five hundred, but every one of them had broken through the low-tier ranks. A full third of them were high-tier. They were a strong, elite force, almost as good as the household guard he had left behind.

Cassian watched them, his gaze briefly landing on a figure hauling a massive block of black iron across the yard before moving on.

"Everyone! Halt your training!"

Owen, who had been advancing with the iron block, stopped. The past two years had stripped him of his youthful softness, hardening his features and cording his frame with muscle.

THUD!

He dropped the massive weight, sending a spray of mud into the air. His bronze, powerful muscles twitched from the exertion.

"Young master." Tom, his squire, hurried over, offering a towel.

Owen took it, wiping the sweat from his neck and shoulders as he walked toward his father and the assembled knights.

The five hundred knights quickly fell into a neat, disciplined formation.

Cassian stood before them, his sharp gaze sweeping over his men. "Gentlemen! We have new orders. Those damned Orcs have joined the fight. The eastern village of Redham is under attack and requires our support. Be ready to move in ten minutes."

He raised his right fist. "Glory to ourselves!"

The knights mirrored the gesture, their voices roaring as one.

"Glory to ourselves!"

Clop, clop!

Tom rode up on his warhorse, leading a second, and stopped in front of his young master.

Owen swung himself into the saddle.

"Hyah!"

The horse charged forward, falling into place beside the figure at the head of the column. Hearing the hoofbeats, Cassian turned his head.

He stared for a few long seconds at the face so similar to his own. His lips moved. "You could have left."

Hearing his father, Owen grinned. "I'm not leaving you behind."

A complex emotion flickered in Cassian's dark eyes. "This is exactly why you aren't suited to be the head of the house."

"I don't care."

Cassian was silent for a moment.

"Suit yourself."