The three Kings and Lilith settled into the plush sofas in the hearth-warmed lounge.
Servants came in quietly and filled their glasses with brandy. King Richard downed his and held for the servant to refill. Before the servant could walk off, he took the bottle from them.
The King took a long drink, then let out a long sigh. He leaned his elbows on his knees and shook his head.
King Gabriel watched Richard, feeling a little impatient, though his face was a mask of calm.
"If you are through with your theatrics, I'd like to know what this is all about."
King Richard narrowed his eyes at Gabriel. "Theatrics? Have you never heard of the Black Dragon? Do you not know how massive of a problem it will be if that monster returns?"
"Yes, yes, I know the old stories." The Gryphon said, waving his hand dismissively. "The big bad dragon went on a rampage until the Golden Dragon gave his life to defeat him."
"Every mother with a child has told that story for generations."
King Edward cleared his throat. "It's not just a story. The archives have many first hand accounts of the Dragon and his deeds."
"You of all people, Great Gryphon, whose people once walked with the Dragons, should be much less skeptical."
Gabriel bristled slightly but quickly composed himself.
"Well Grand Wizard, tell us why you believe a Dragon, that died before the birth or your kingdom, is being resurrected."
"Vladamir, Sage in training, of Americus."
The mention of his name caused both king's eyes to widen in surprise.
"That name," Richard said, "hasn't even been spoken in decades."
King Edward nodded. "You know his crimes. I knew the man, long before he was a monster."
Edward leaned back and took a sip of his brandy before he began.
"Long ago, when I was a young man, just beginning to show interest in magic, my best friend was this skinny kid that lived across the river from me."
"Vladimir grew up dirt poor. No father, deeply depressed mother, the little money they had came from charity and less-than-legal means."
"Of course, as is always the case, the strapping young men of the village made sport of the studious, underfed boy that smelled of river water."
I protected him as much as one could. I stood up for him more times than I could count. My family even offered to take him in when his mother died."
"He was just so…angry."
"He disappeared after that, never once attending secondary school. Imagine the stir it caused when he showed up at the Magic Academy."
"He was adept from the start. He absolutely excelled at everything. There wasn't a potion, spell, or technique he couldn't master in short order."
"Everyone, including myself, begged him to tutor them, to help them gain a modicum of the mastery that he had."
"He was still so, so, angry."
"I get it. No one had been treated as poorly as he and his mother had. His family had been down and out and society had done nothing but spat on him."
The king scoffed as he remembered. "He was not shy about reminding them about it either."
"When it came time for research projects, his was about bringing back the dead."
"He was certain that the right mix of life and death magic could not only keep a person from dying, but could bring them back from the other side."
"Of course this line of thinking stemmed from the death of his mother. No one could blame him for that. But he was so doggish about it."
It soon became clear that his sole reason for joining the academy was to gain access to its resources for his research, and experiments."
"His experiments were terrifying. While they led to invaluable advancement in healing magic, the line was drawn when he began reanimating rodents."
"Notice I said 'reanimate'. There was no life in them at all. They would even decay faster, visibly faster."
"He was warned off this line of research. Then was out right banned from it when his creature became violent"
"He was expelled when they found out he was continuing his work in secret. That was after an undead dog attacked another student, the headmaster's daughter."
"I thought he was angry before. After that, he completely lost it. You've heard the rest."
"Desecrating cemeteries, Undead attacks on the Academy and the Magic Association. I ended up being the one to depower him. The look in his eye stays with me to this day."
"The rage, that sadness, the sense of betrayal, like he couldn't believe what was happening to him."
The King at the time wanted him put to death. I argued to have him banished."
"He's been depowered, I said. He's no longer a threat, I said. He's just misunderstood, I said."
"I don't know who was more foolish, me for defending him, or them for listening to a newly appointed mage."
"What does this have to do with the Black Dragon?" asked King Gabriel from the edge of his seat."
King Edward looked at him like he had forgotten he was there.
"Vladimir worshiped the Black dragon, he studied him, he read everything he could get his hands on, on him and his magic."
"He knew that the answers to his questions lay with the Black Dragon. After each of his failures he could be heard muttering to himself about needing more power."
"Where do you think someone obsessed with 'The Father of necromancy' will turn for 'more power'?"
"But there are no spells, there is no way to bring back the dead, or else he would have found it long ago. Right?" King Richard said, pouring himself another drink.
"Yes, and no." Edward said cautiously.
"There is no way to bring the dead back to life, but the Dragon is not dead, not exactly."
King Richard froze, eyes wild, brandy overflowing his glass.
"What the FUCK do you mean 'not exactly'?"
"First," Edward began slowly, "Black is one of the Great Dragons. They are nearly immortal."
"Second, he was the Dragon of Death. An entity like that does not die so easily."
"He was defeated by the Golden Dragon, but his defeat came in the form of banishment to another realm. The Null Realm where nothing else exist."
"The spell the scouts saw was not a resurrection spell, but a variation of the summoning spell that opens a portal to other realms."
"Why does no one else know this?" King Gabiel asked, his voice nearly a whisper.
"Vladimir was not the only one that worshiped the Black Dragon. The truth was concealed in order to keep others from trying to bring him back."
"The truth is sealed within the walls of Castle Americus, written in the language of the Dragons, a state secret passed only from King to King."
"If that is the case," Richard asked, "how did Vladimir find out?"
King Edward shook his head. "On that, your guess is as good as mine."