6 • RAEHERYS

THE HYBORN THRONE SOARED HIGH IN HIS SIGHT. The seat of volcanic glass, as dark as the burnt, reflected the sunlight under the morning skies. Raeherys Alagor walked on granite slabs that floored the wide, elevated temple at the center of Volcron’s peak. Wild trees and ferns and meadow-grasses all surrounded the Temple of Hylos, waving and rustling with the fresh sea breeze.

Behind the black throne towered the Great Statue of Lord Hylos. Its magnificent structure, made of diorite stone and carved into his Primal Form, had stood as the highest above all peaks of the volcanoes and islands in Draconos. The eyes glinted pure gold, symbolizing the elitism of all his descendants who had continuously ruled the realm until now.

As the first Hyborn ever existed during the Age of the Empyreal Gods, the dragons soon worshipped Lord Hylos, proclaiming him as the Volcanic Deity and God of Dragons. It had been known that Hylos had a thousand heads—and that he had the longest, most enormous body among all beasts in this world.

His descendants, the Hyborns, had ruled over strength and power from his blood burning through their veins. They had protected Draconos for thousands of years. And now, their legacy, duties, and responsibilities had been passed on to Raeherys, with the fate of Draconos lying in his grasp.

The pressure … the challenges … and the people’s expectations … all of these he needed to carry as the last Hyborn of the realm.

And it was killing him … slowly …

“Your Grace …” Mondramyr Gramad’s voice followed Raeherys behind. “Have you given any thoughts about my request the previous day?”

Raeherys glanced over his shoulder. His head fell heavier as it carried the weight of his golden crown. “I fear the Lawdras had denied it again. We shall have to stay in the isles. But we’ll figure something out.”

Gramad’s face fell into a frown. “But Your Grace—“

“I’ve waited long enough. Where are they?” Raeherys cut him off to avoid the subject. He had far more concerns to settle in today—now that they had pushed the realm into the edge of a revolution.

The Mondramyr hesitated before answering. A hint of disappointment in his amber eyes showed. “The Head of Seagrad awaits your command for them to enter, Your Grace.”

Raeherys took a swallow of the lump in his throat. Them? So Igryth had come here not alone indeed. This would be hard.

“Send them in.” Raeherys climbed his way up on the stairs to his throne. Until now was he unsure of this idea. The Lawdras had already given their counsel against him doing this hearing … but still, he needed to. He wanted to know the people’s side as a way to help address the rumors spreading around the isles. If it was true, the plan of revolting against him, then he would use everything in his power to solve this conflict no matter what.

After following the king, Mondramyr Gramad stopped at the foot of the stairs. He turned around and gave his signal to the mondras standing after each pillar that surrounded the temple.

They all summoned out their dragon arms and claws. Raeherys had wanted little protection, but the Lawdras strongly insisted he should bring more mondras. This idea brought back the memory of his father who would always tell him that as a king, he was to expect the worst when dealing with their people. In case anything would go wrong, he was prepared.

A brief moment it took before Raeherys caught a glimpse of the dragons from Seagrad flying down. The strong rush of wind blasted around the temple as the three fierce-looking dragons landed before him. He came to recognize the faces of these brute, bloodthirsty warriors who had joined Aravyr’s host for the war. Loyal they were only to his brother, he knew.

After they shape-shifted, now left with armored vests made of sea-green scales, the three of them kneeled. “Greetings, King Raeherys, Blood of the Hyborn.” Their dark tone hinted no delight at all.

The middle dragon, whom Raeherys had known as Igryth, the Head of Seagrad Island, stepped forward. “We’ve been told to be summoned at your command.”

Raeherys studied them carefully before speaking a word. He wanted to land straight about his main concern; the rumors he had heard, but that would be unwise.

“How is … your island, Igryth? … and your people?” he said, tapping his fingers on the armrest. He never had the courage to visit Seagrad since most of the dragons there had hated him. Only his brother they loved as he used to go there before. But for Raeherys they had none.

“All is well, Your Grace,” replied Igryth. The scale tattoos on their arms and neck signified one of the old traditions in Draconos. However, it slowly faded as thousands of years had passed—forgotten. Only the people in Seagrad remained true to their tradition as they believed dragon tattoos symbolized their strength and vanity.  

“I see.” Raeherys bobbed his head, finding a perfect time to open up about the revolt they had been planning. Should he even ask about it? He whispered a curse. He wished the Lawdras could join him now by his side. But they had advised against it the previous day, as their presence would only escalate the fire between them. Seagrad bore no friendship at all with the Lawdras.

“What else do you want to ask, Your Grace?”

“I’d like to hear everything from you,” said Raeherys. “What you desire … what problems you have concerning our realm … anything.”

Igryth’s face sharpened as he pierced his eyes to the young Hyborn. “We want you to toughen up.”

Raeherys had to blink a couple of times before asking, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Toughen up, I said,” Igryth raised his voice, “You can’t hide in these isles forever. You’ve never seen what humans are capable of. You’ve never even seen a human.”  

“But we cannot—‘

“No … YOU can not—cause you are a coward.”

Raeherys looked away, clenching his jaws. “I am no coward.”

“If you are not, then show us. Gather all the remaining mondras. It is time we make those lowly humans pay for what they did.”

“Why do you want to wage war so bad—“

“Because we need JUSTICE!” Igryth snapped. His muscled arms beneath his copper skin wrenched and veined.

Raeherys parted his lips, then closed it back again. He did not want to show any expression that would make him look weak. The Lawdras were right. This was definitely not a good idea … not a good idea at all.

“Your Grace,” called the black-bearded man beside Igryth. “In my family, I am the only survivor. We fought bravely with your brother … but those hunters … I’ve lost everything because of them. We need to avenge those who had died in battle, Your Grace. My two sons …” He lowered his eyes and pursed his lips as if it was too painful for him to continue.

Raeherys exhaled all his breath until he ran out of air. He understood the man. He, too, lost his entire family because of the humans—because of the pointless war his past ancestors had caused. It brought nothing new to him, all because he knew the pain of losing people very close to his heart. But it’s not his fault. It’s their mistake that caused their deaths, both Aravyr, and their father.

“Open your eyes,” said Igryth. “You think this is only child’s play? Dragons are born not to hide and get preyed on, we are born to conquer and predate. We all fight for power, for a reason. Even Gramad wanted to save the entire realm by war, though he knew it might cost his own life.”

Raeherys could not help but look at the Mondramyr who was avoiding his eyes. He recalled Gramad’s father, as the two of them had joined Aravyr’s war, but only Gramad made it to return in Draconos. This gave him no choice but to replace his father as the new Mondramyr.

“You think you’re better than your brother and your father? … Everyone knows … you are far worse than any of them,” Igryth spat. “At least they had the courage to sacrifice their lives for trying to save the realm. But you … you only choose to stay here and hide?” He shook his head in disappointment.

The words cut deep like a talon, slaughtering his chest out. He glared at the brute, trying to control his burning anger. Of course, no one in this world would understand his situation … his position … because they were never kings in the first place! How could they? They were not the only ones who had lost their family. Raeherys had long been shattered after his father’s death. But did he ask for justice? Did he thirst for revenge?

“You’ll NEVER understand,” replied Raeherys, “As the king, it’s my duty to serve and protect the realm. But every decision I make must be agreed upon by the Lawdras.”

“Curse those old fools! And curse YOU for letting them deceive you with their words,” said Igryth, “Tell me, little king, were they sweet enough to babysit you that you’ve gotten blind already of what your people are experiencing all this time?”

“They’re not old fools, Igryth.” Raeherys argued. “They’re the oldest and wisest dragons in our realm. They’ve lived far more years and have seen far more things than you’ve ever been in your entire life.”

“Can’t you still see? You all have underestimated those pesky hunters! You think by just destroying their ships, you can stop them from getting here? Rats also have tricky minds, boy,” Igryth pointed a finger to the skies, “The Phoenix Comet will be here a few days from now. We will take the entire realm against the humans before the comet comes to grant them more power. And by that, we will need a prominent leader. You’re too soft for a king. I can’t believe the blood of Hylos still runs on your veins.”

Raeherys stood up after hearing what he said. “I had ENOUGH of this. I will NOT permit anyone crossing the sea. NO ONE shall fly beyond our borders.”

Igryth cast a strange grin as he shifted his gaze from Raeherys to Mondramyr Gramad. “We shall see about that.”