Meanwhile*
HOUSE CROFT
A man slowly walks into a room, there he finds another one of the eight heirs, a boy who was slim. He was gazing at the orchards in his families beautiful estate.
"Young master, have you heard the news?"
"Yes, it seems like my father wants to see all of his off springs in one room. That's so unlike him."
"Do you not intend to go?"
"I do, my father isn't one to do this type of things. The fact that he did means something big is about to happen."
"I heard that he even invited those of the "Golden Rose" estate."
Valerius stood still for a moment before he smiled.
"That's....interesting. i wonder why he invited them. I don't think I'll be brave enough to do that if I was in his shoes . But, I know that, umm, what's the eighth name again?"
"Ignas. Sir That is the name of the eighth young master."
"Yes, Ignas. I can't help but think how he would hold up, he will be surrounded by us seven, ad the heirs of the local lords. He might be a Drachmere, but I don't think anyone will notice. Shame, he has already lost before the fight began, he must hate having an inferior mother...Any news about my little sister?."
"No, the young lady is still in isolated training, my lord."
"I don't like that, Sera isn't one to be quiet for this long. Just what is she up to?'
Meanwhile
HOUSE AZUREAN
Seraphina, the eldest daughter of Monarch Aegon set on the balcony of her room. She had just finished her isolation training. The reason behind this was the humiliating lose she took a year ago in the hands of Valerius.
"Just you wait, Valerius. I'll be sure to pay you back tenfold for the humiliation I suffered. this scare you came me aches every time I hear your name or even think about that ugly face of yours. I'll be sure to have you on your knees in front of everyone this time tomorrow, just you wait!!!!"
As the day ends, all the heirs had each other on their minds. but, they thought nothing of Ignas, to them he was an after thought. They say him as no threat, but they were not ready for what was about to happen at the dinner. A incident that got known as "The Sleeping Dragon's Awakening"."
As the sun rises, noble families from near and far made their way to the Capital City of the Drachmere Monarchy. While it seemed as if they were going there due to the ball, they were really just going there to scout the person whom they should pledge their loyalty to.
3 HOURS BEFORE THE DINNER STARTS
Somewhere in the nearby mountains
"Brother, I'll be taking my leave now. "
Said the girl, who seemed to be around 16years of age. she had long black hair, and skin as white as snow. She was Fenne Ulfblóð, one of the few descendent of the "White Claw" tribe. This was a tribe that roamed he mountains freely up until 10 yrs ago, when Aegon Drachmere decided to force them into submission fearing that one day they might grow to rival Drachmeres strength.
"Fenne, I'm sorry you have to step in for someone as weak as I am. But please, take care of yourself in there. I heard that this Dragons Den is not all fun and games."
Replied her brother, a 19yr old boy, who unlike his younger sibling was born with a weak and frail physic. Together the two of them were the children of the former Clan head, who died in battle along the other 10,000 clan members against the Drachmere army, leaving behind 1,000 of adults and 300 children at the time.
"Don't say stuff like that, brother. That is not how the future clan head should talk. How would the others view you if you show weakness?"
"Have you seen me, dear sister? I show nothing nut weakness. And, I keep telling you that you should be Clan head. You're already the strongest warrior of our generation, its only a matter of time before you surpass the old heads ."
Fenne, sensing the sadness in his voice approached him, kneeling to look him directly in the eye
"The Great White Wolf chooses the heart, not the muscle. You remember the names, you remember the history, and you hold the grief. You are the only one left who can teach the thousand remaining what we are fighting for. I am merely a claw for the head, my job is to strike."
She said countering gently, as she adjusted the furs around Ragnar's shoulders.
He slowly reached out his hand, grasping the single, thick braid of her black hair, the "wolf tail" woven with carved white stone beads.
"Just promise me you won't forget the mission, don't get swooped up by the gold and tittle' Remember, it's about finding the lever. Finding how to bring down the whole rotten structure, brick by brick, so we Ulfblóð can finally be free."
Fenne stood up, the cold resolution returning to her eyes. She reached into her pack, pulling out a small, crudely carved wooden figurine, the likeness of a wolf howling at the sky'
"Fear not, brother. I will never forget the mission. I will find a way to free us all, and make them pay for the blood they spilled."
She vowed, tucking the figurine back safely. With one last glance, she gave her brother a sharp nod, turned, and disappeared seamlessly into the complex shadows of the mountain crevice, leaving Ragnar alone with the silence of the ancient, watchful peaks. She moved along the old forgotten hunting trails. Her destination was a small, well-trained group, with every step she took, more and more people joined her until they reached the number of 20. These were the top promising young warriors oh Ulfblóð.
They were
Aric Ulfblóð-The tracker
Kaelen Ulfblóð - The Engineer & Locksmith
ToveUlfblóð - [f] The Manipulator
RoricUlfblóð - The Protector
"Remember the lessons of the Great White Wolf. We are silent hunters. We will eat their food, wear their cloths, and learn their weaknesses. Since we can not win the Scaled Regent title, we shall all choose one of the seven children and we shall manipulate them from the shadows, all in the name of the White Wolf.
Roric steeped forward, his eyes burning with cold loyalty.
"You lad, we shall follow."
With a silent nod, Fenne turned and led her signed for them to take leave to the dangerous metropolis that served as the capital of the Drachmere Monarchy.
LATER
All the nobles under the Drachmere Monarchy had made their way to the dinner, the hall was full with a display of well fabricated clothing, as everyone wanted to look the part in order to impress. Some of these nobles can be seen talking while waiting for the event to start.
"Oh man, I swear, only the Drachmere's can pull off a event of this magnitude."
"Not even the emperor himself did this big of a party for the birth of his son, i guess the whispers that Drachmere run the empire might be true.'
"Shhhh!!!! Are you mad ? The Royal army is here, they might kill you if they here you saying that."
Just then, the doors opened and it was time for the ceremony to begin. The first ones out were Valerius Drachmere, and his mother, Lady Lyra Croft. The entrance was a spectacle of understated wealth. Valerius(17-02-1657) was the picture of aristocratic perfection, effortlessly handsome, dressed in bespoke clothing that subtly incorporated the emerald color of the Croft house.
"Presenting the first young master , first heir of his Grace, lord Aegon Drachmere, Lord Valerius Drachmere, and his mother, representing house Croft, Lady Lyra Croft of the Stone Dragon Unit."
Before the applause could fade, the second announcement was made.
"Presenting first young lady, second heir of his Grace, lord Aegon Drachmere, Lady Seraphina Drachmere, and her moher, lady Marina Azurean of the Tide Dragon Unit."
Lady Marina was a stark contrast to Lyra Croft. She was vibrant, dressed in shimmering blues and silvers that evoked the deep ocean, and she possessed a powerful, commanding stride. Seraphina (05-08-1657) matched her mothers confidence. Unlike Valerius who had a cold demeaner, she carried the aura of a natural commander.
The third pair entered quietly , but with terrifying effect as they waited for the applause to die out.
"Presenting the second young master, thirdheir of his Grace, lord Aegon Drachmere, Lord Cassian Drachmere, nd his mother, Lady Elara Ashworth of the Blood Dragon Unit."
Lady Elara was a picture of cool, clinical danger. She wore a severe ' black gown accented only by the deep , vital crimson of the Blood Dragon. Cassian (18-09-1657) walked with fluid, contained silence of a viper, he couldn't care less about the nobles present, his gaze was only fixed at the two before him, Valerius & Seraphina.
"Presenting the third young master, fourth heir of his Grace, lord Aegon Drachmere, Lord Garrick Drachmere, and his mother, Lady Serra Kestral of the Sky Dragon unit."
Lady Serra entered with a restless energy , dressed in brown & deep grey. Garrick( 23-03-1658) matched her intensity. He was lean, focused, and walked with a quick, light step that seemed to defy gravity. He exchanged a brief , competitive glance with Seraphina , signaling the perennial rivalry between those who commanded the air and sea.
But their reunion was cut short.
"Presenting the second young lady, and fifth heir of his Grace, lord Aegon Drachmere. Lady Lysandra Drachmere, and her mother, Lady Vespera Vesperus of the Flame Dragon Unit!"
Their arrival brought a blinding display of crimson and gold. Lady Vespera was the most magically flamboyant of the mothers, dressed in fire-colored silk, radiating a visible aura of aristocratic entitlement.
Lysandra(20-05-1658) followed, walking with a theatrical reluctance. Her natural beauty and innate connetion of the Flame Dragon were undeniable, despite her laziness. She yawned subtly behind a gloved hand, the picture of boredom. She gave her siblings a quick, bored glance before her eyes landed on her chair.
"Don't even think about sitting down before the Monarch gets here."
Lady Vaspera whispered to her, sensing that Lysandra was about to sit.
(Damn old hug, how did she know what i wanted to do?)
just then, the atmosphere instantly changed.
"Presenting the third young lady, as well as the sixth heir of his Grace, lord Aegon Drachmere, Lady Morgana Drachmere, and her mother, Lady Talia Sylas of the Shadow Dragon Unit."
lady Talia was almost invisible, her movements subtle, her attire the color of deep night, serving only to frame her daughter. Morgana(19-01-1659) was the quietest of the group. She did not look at the crowed, but her sharp eyes were busy, darting around the room, talking in details that others have yet to notice. She could see it all, the placement of guards, the tension in the room, the anxiety of the other nobles around. But her moment was short-lived s the floor seemed to rumble.
"Presenting, fourth young master, as well as the Seventh heir of his Grace, lord Aegon Drachmere, Lord Tiberius Drachmere ,and his mother Lady Valeria Volkov of the Iron Dragon Unit!"
Lady Valeria looked ready for war, dressed in severe dark metal that seemed to be part of her armor. Her face was set in a mask of rigid discipline and aggressive pride. Tiberius (16-07-1659) was a powerhouse, his raw, physical presence was overwhelming. He wore heavy, black clothing and looked directly at the other heirs, his gaze challenging them all.
The seven heirs, along with their guardians all exchanged looks at each other. One could instantly feel the tension in the air. The announcer came to the rescue as he cleared his throat, his voice dropping slightly as is he was unsure of the pedigree he was about to declare.
"And finally, presenting the fifth young lord, and eighth heir of his Grace, lord Aegon Drachmere, lord Ignas Drachmere, and his mother, Lady Sol of the Golden rose Estate!"
Ignas and Lady Sol stepped across the threshold. Their entrance was quiet antithesis of spectacle that preceded them. Lady Sol, in her simple but elegant gown, looked terrified but determined, clinging tightly to her son's arm. Ignas (11-10-1661) was the focus of all eyes. Thanks to the intense growth spurt due to Swarms influence, he now looked like was around 15 in age.
He was nearly as tall as his 15 year old siblings, his frame lean and unnaturally straight, His traditional Black and Gold doublet was filled out by a subtle, new layer of muscle that spoke of rapid, efficient conditioning. He was the last to arrive, the lowest in standing, and the only without a powerful house backing him. As he walked closer to his half-siblings he could see how most of them were disgusted by his presence and how others didn't even care he was there. The whispers that followed from different parties were sharp
"That must be the 8th child, too think he resembles the Monarch so much."
'Even though he looks like him, he is still of low birth. I heard he is yet to even learn any martial arts."
"Must be the consequences of mixing royal blood with that of commoners."
"Look at his mother, no house backing, what presumption.'
Ignas and his mother tried by all means to block out the comments, and finally they reached their table.
"You still hanging in there, mom?"
He whispered to his mother, as he gave her a faint smile. So;, who was scared decided not to show it for her son's sake.
"Yeah, I'll manage, don't worry about me."
She replied with a warm smile, but she couldn't fool Swarm.
[ She is lying, it seems as if she only says that to try not to burden you. Her heart rate is too high for someone who isn't afraid.]
(Yeah, i can tell just by how bad her hand is shaking. She didn't have to come, buh here she is, regardless.)
FLASHBACK
24 hours before the dinner
The humble dining room of the Golden Rose Estate was quiet. Ignas had just finished his training with Ser Jerek and was sharing a simple meal with his mother, Lady Sol. The Patriarchs summon lay on the table between them, a stark black and gold scroll. Ignas pushed his bowel aside, his expression calm and determined.
"I will go, mother."
Lady Sol's hand, which was reaching for her wine cup, froze. Her face, usually so warm, went instantly pale.
"No, Ignas. You cannot."
" I must. The Patriarch commands all heirs to attend. To refuse is an admission of fear."
Ignas said simply.
Lady Sol pushed her chair back, the sound scraping harshly against the floor. Her voice, usually soft, rose with a raw edge of panic.
"Fear? Yes, I fear for you! Do you not understand what that room will be, Ignas? It will not be a dinner, it will be a public execution. You will stand next to Valerius and the rest of your siblings and their mother, and they will dissect you. They will not see a Drachmere, they will see me!! They will mock you, Ignas. They will mock you for being the son of a commoner woman. They will point out your lack of powerful lineage, your lack of backing, everything!!!! They will make you a spectacle."
She said as the tears started to fill her eyes.
Ignas rose slowly, walking around the table until he stood directly in front of her. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders, his eyes fixed on hers, his voice steady and said.
"That would be only bother me if I were ashamed of my mother. But I am not. I am proud to be your son, mother. More proud than any claim of Drachmere blood. If they seek to mock me, they only mock the very essence of the Monarchy's bloodline, which must draw it's strength from its people."
He paused, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips.
"So, I am going. To prove that am proud to be your son."
Lady Sol searched his face, seeing the cold, focused resolve that the intense training had etched onto his features, a look that somewhat resembled his father. That's when she realized he truly meant it. Her fear however , remained. If she couldn't stop him, she would protect him. She took a deep breath, and searched for whatever strength she had left, the same strength that allowed her to live this long in the shadows of the Drachmere court returned. she met his gaze with a newfound determination.
"You're just like your father...if that's the case, I'll be going with you."
She declared firmly. Ignas raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in his calm eyes.
"Mother, are you sure? You heard everything you just said about the venom they will unleash."
Lady sol squared her shoulders, her smile now warm and genuine.
"Yes, I am sure, my son. Just as you are proud to be my son, I am fiercely proud to be your mother. I will not have you stand lone in that hall. You face the Monarchy, and I will be there to support you in anyway possible."
Ignas returned her pressure, a wave of genuine gratitude cutting through his usual clinical detachment.
"Thank you, mother."
PRESENT
The rumbling whispers of the people present were cut short as the doors opened, they knew exactly who was walking past those doors. He Aura so cold, that it is said to reflect his cold heart.
"Presenting, the lord and master of the Drachmere Monarchy. The Absolute strongest figure in the South. The fourteenth head of Drachmere, His Grace, Lord Aegon Drachmere.
Aegon did not stride, he advanced. He entered alone, a figure of raw, primal power that made the ostentatious wealth of the vassal houses look like mere trinkets. His long, ashy dreadlocks flowed over his bare, corded shoulders. He wore only simple, heavy black linen trousers and thick, armored braces carved with Dragon scales. The aura around him was not warm, like Vesperus magic, nor silent, like Sylas Stealth. It was Ice-Cold. So cold, and potent, that the crystal chandeliers overhead seemed to dim, and the elaborate floral arrangements instantly dropped, as if the life force was being sucked from the room.
Aegon's golden eyes were not scanning the room, they were judging it. He moved with the slow, deliberate confidence of a man who knows nothing in the room can stop him. He was the savage, untamed spirit of the ancient Drachmere Monarchy, dressed only in the truth of his power. He walked past the assembled nobles, who were bowed low in forced deference, toward the head of the table. The silence was broken only by the sound of his, heavily calloused feet connecting with the polished obsidian floor, a sound that was heavy, purposeful, and final.
He reached the head of the table, walking directly past the seven vassal mothers and the seven heirs.
He gave them no glance, no acknowledgment. He then reached the massive, ornate Patriarchal throne, that was carved from the fossilized black spine of an ancient wyrm. He did not sit as immediately. instead, he stopped directly behind the chair, his back to his children and enter court. His massive hands rested on the top of the throne, his attention focused entirely on the empty space at the opposite side at the hall. After a long, agonizing moment, his voice, deep and resonant, carrying the chill of the mountain peak echoed through the hall.
"It seems that my last child has finally chosen to join the family. "
His head did not move, but his fierce gold eyes suddenly snapped directly toward the single, small tale where Ignas and his mother were stationed.
"Ignas, approach."
He commanded, his voice a hammer blow. The spotlight of the entire room all shifted to Ignas as he slowly moved to his father.
" I greet the esteemed family head."
Ignas said with a respective bow.
Aegon nods before he continues to speak.
"Ignas, you were invited here because you are my blood. But you being here in an anomaly. So tonight we set the record straight, tell me Ignas Drachmere, what are your intentions going forward,. Do you seek a quiet life, away from the blood bath that lies in the walls of Drachmere, or, do you wish to compete with your siblings for the position of Scaled Regent ?"
Ignas looked his father in the eye, and took a deep breath.
"My intention here tonight....is to familiarize myself with my future rivals for the Scaled Regent!!"
The room fell silent. The statement as not merely arrogant, it was an act of open political defiance. Ignas was treating the seven heirs and their houses as equals, and this was not something welcomed by them as their faces gave them away. On the second floor, James Van Hellverine looked on with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
(That kid, his still on that?. Although, something does look different about him today.)