The stifling spiritual pressure that had coiled around the council chamber like a serpent suddenly vanished, leaving the air thin and cold.
A collective, staggered breath swept through the assembled rulers of the allied kingdoms as they pushed themselves up from their reverent (or perhaps, simply terrified) bow.
He, the Rexus, potent figure who commanded such fear, observed the room with an aloof detachment. His gaze settled on Beatrice, the formidable Queen of the Chenwongo Kingdom.
She was a striking sight, a figure of elegant defiance in a pristine white frock with a perfectly matching wide-brimmed hat, the only splash of color a small, azure pin fixed to the right side of the crown. The pure white of her attire seemed a deliberate contrast to the dark storm brewing around her house.
"I trust you all heard the unsettling rumors concerning the Chenwongo castle yesterday," the man began, his voice deep, resonating with a power that needed no amplification. "Were they truly dragons? Or are we, the rulers of this planet, being mocked by some secretive organization that merely adopted the guise of the legendary beasts?"
He paced slowly before the massive, polished granite table. "Let us not mince words. Dragons are not merely vicious; they are forces of natural destruction that do not bother with subterfuge when they intend to destroy. I remember vividly the previous incursion. When the dragons first descended upon our world, they brought with them an unprecedented terror. Their strength was absolute. No warrior, no mage, dared to confront one in single combat, for everyone knew the truth: a lone dragon could fell twenty armed and trained humans without breaking a sweat."
A tense, low murmur rippled through the kings and queens.
"Their ability to shift their forms—from the monstrosity of a dragon to the deceptive simplicity of a human—only compounded the threat," he continued, letting the silence draw out. "The only person who ultimately forced them to retreat was none other than Emperor Dominatrix, the second strongest being of her age. She defeated their Emperor, forcing a humiliating retreat from our entire planet."
He paused, fixing his eyes on Beatrice, the gravity of his words settling like a mantle of lead upon her shoulders. "And this is why my concern, Beatrice, focuses on you. You are a direct descendant of the Emperor Dominatrix. Your family lineage is perhaps the single greatest symbolic threat to the dragons. If they have returned, their primary target will undoubtedly be the Chenwongo line. This attack yesterday may be their declaration of war upon all of us."
He looked out at the council. "We must all exercise caution. Wait for the next sign. Until then, every kingdom must reinforce its defenses. Protect your families. Protect your borders."
It was at this critical moment, a moment intended for grave strategic planning, that King Rexus of the neighboring kingdom decided to inject his venom. Rexus was a man whose ambition was only matched by his boorishness, and he wore a look of self-satisfied irritation.
"With all due respect," Rexus drawled, leaning back in his ornate chair, "I find this entire discussion rather pointless when there is a persistent, very public rumor circulating. A rumor that suggests your daughter, Rena, has... well, that she bore a child with one of these very same dragons."
The effect of the words was instantaneous and explosive. The air of solemn tension shattered.
Beatrice rose from her chair with a speed that belied her regal composure, her white skirts rustling sharply. Her hand slammed onto the table, causing a tremor to travel through the granite. Her voice, usually measured and cool, trembled with a barely contained fury.
"That," she stated, her voice a low, shivering snarl, "is a vile fabrication. A grotesque lie that will never touch my family. I will guarantee that truth with my own life."
Rexus shrugged, his eyes mocking. "Well, then, if it is a lie, there is no issue. But if, by some truly catastrophic circumstance, it were to be true... you know what you are obligated to do, don't you, Queen Beatrice?"
Beatrice did not hesitate. Her jaw was clenched so tight her teeth must have been grinding. "Yes. I will personally kill my daughter if that rumor were ever proven to be real."
The declaration sent a fresh wave of shock through the room.
Before anyone could process the chilling vow, King Nullus—a nervous, constantly overshadowed man—spoke up, his voice high-pitched with wounded pride. "Oh! I cannot believe this! This kind of slander is rampant in your own kingdom, and even King Rexus knows of it, yet I, your supposed friend, hear nothing of it until this moment? Do you truly view me as an outsider, Beatrice?"
The raw disgust on Beatrice's face was palpable. She turned her icy glare on Nullus. "Shut the fuck up," she commanded, the vulgarity shocking in the formal setting. "Consider the gravity of this conversation, the place where you are choosing to air your petty grievances right now."
Nullus recoiled, visibly shriveling. "My apologies, my deepest apologies. I... I didn't think."
The potent figure, having allowed the drama to play out, stepped in to regain control. King Rexus, however, delivered the final, arrogant word.
"Good. Now, I suggest we all ensure the safety of our respective kingdoms, protecting one another. Otherwise," Rexus said with a dismissive, arrogant tone, "I will personally take it upon myself to ensure that all dissenting or failing rulers are sent to hell. Now, I want to rest. Leave this place, immediately."
With the meeting summarily adjourned by Rexus's hubris, the kings and queens began to depart. One by one, they executed complex, practiced hand symbols, their magical signatures glowing briefly as they teleported out, returning instantly to their waiting portal areas.
Beatrice strode out of the building, the humid air of the courtyard a welcome change from the suffocating pressure of the council hall. Her gaze fell upon her waiting white carriage, its fine driver standing patiently by the door.
She climbed in, sinking into the plush velvet seat, the composure she had so tightly maintained in the meeting finally beginning to fray.
"How did the meeting go, Madam?" the driver asked gently as he took the reins.
Beatrice stared out the window at the fleeing landscape. "They may help us, or they may not," she replied, her voice empty of hope. "Let us leave it to fate. Even if the dragons were to suddenly attack, perhaps we must simply watch our kingdom burn. They possess an immense, overwhelming power."
The journey back was swift. Her palace, which had been reduced to rubble just days before, was already completely rebuilt from scratch, a testament to the power and wealth of the Chenwongo Kingdom. It stood even more beautiful and formidable than before.
She entered her private chambers and immediately sent a servant to summon her daughter, Rena.
A sour-faced maid found Rena in her secluded section of the palace. "Hey, you cheap beggar!" the maid spat, the disgust evident in her tone. "The Madam is calling you. Move!"
Rena, who had been living in a state of perpetual, fearful tension, flinched at the harsh insult. But she immediately rose and ran toward her mother's room.
She stood before Beatrice, her head bowed. The Queen rose from her massive, cushioned chair and immediately cast a spell. A shimmering, near-invisible dome of concentrated air magic enveloped the space. This was the 'Whisper' spell, a Tier 3 Air Magic, powerful enough to ensure absolute sonic isolation; nothing spoken inside could be heard outside the barrier.
Then, Beatrice did something Rena had not expected: she walked up to her daughter and pulled her into a fierce, desperate embrace.
Beatrice was no longer the fierce queen; she was simply a woman whose heart was breaking. Her rigid composure dissolved, and she began to sob, her tears wetting Rena's shoulder.
"I am so sorry, Rena," Beatrice choked out, her voice ragged. "I truly am not worthy of the name mother. And I understand. I am unfit for the post of grandmother. That is why you haven't told me where my grandson is, isn't it?"
Rena froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes, wide and glistening, searched her mother's face.
"H-how do you know?" she stammered, the first hot, fresh tears immediately spilling over her lashes, tracing paths down her cheeks. The composure she had just regained vanished. "Mother, how could you possibly know?"
Beatrice looked at her daughter, a weary, knowing compassion in her gaze. She stepped forward, gently wiping a tear from Rena's cheek with her thumb.
"My dear Rena," Beatrice said, her voice soft but absolute. "Did you truly believe you could hide the existence of my only grandson from your mother? You may have hidden the boy, but you cannot hide the truth of your heart from me."
Rena's own composure shattered, the pent-up sadness and terror she had been carrying for weeks finally escaping in a torrent of tears. She sobbed into her mother's collarbone.
"Mother, that's not the reason!" Rena cried, pulling back slightly to look into her mother's tear-filled eyes. "I am the reason Father is dead. The blame is mine.
That is why I cannot risk anything happening to you or, more importantly, to my son. Please, let this matter go. Leave it alone for now."
"No," Beatrice pleaded, her voice thick with conviction. "I must see my grandson. I need to know he is safe."
"I don't know where he is," Rena confessed, shame flooding her face. "I simply used a Tier 1 artifact to teleport him to a random planet, anywhere safe. I am wondering myself where he ended up."
Beatrice stepped back, a flicker of fierce determination replacing the grief in her eyes. "I know a method.
A ritual. But it is not simple. It will take a full year to master the technique, and... you will have to make a sacrifice. A part of your own body."
Rena didn't hesitate. The thought of finding her son, the last piece of her lost love, was all that mattered. "I am perfectly willing. I can sacrifice my ear for my son."
A small, weary smile touched Beatrice's lips. "Then wait one year. I will master it. I promise I will bring my grandson back for the next Awakening Ceremony."
As she turned to leave, Beatrice paused and looked back at her daughter with a sudden, sharp suspicion, recalling the vicious rumor from the council. "He is not a dragon, is he, Rena? Be honest with me."
"No, Mother. He is not," Rena affirmed firmly. "He is a human, like us."
Just as Rena was about to step out of the magical barrier, Beatrice called out, "Wait. What name did you give him?"
Rena's eyes softened, a faint memory of happiness shining through the deep sorrow. "His name," she whispered, "is RAYN CHENWONGO."