[5]

And you'd tell me all of this?" Bishop asked with an obvious unasked question.

"Because I have no plans," Cyril started. "I may never have plans. I'm just living, and that's about as far as I've gotten this week."

"I see," Bishop Luis said. "I will relay your words to His Grace Alistair."

"You do that," Cyril threw a wave over her shoulder as they turned to leave.

"Actually, I may be of some assistance to your current issue." Bishop Luis stepped off the stairs.

Cyril grumbled and rolled her eyes before she turned to face him.

"The new year is coming, and normally, the town would throw a festival." Bishop Luis. "But as you can see, that will not happen. However, the capital will also be throwing a festival and there will be plenty of goods being sold. I know we cannot offer anything here. We will be busy rebuilding."

"And how do I get there?" Cyril asked with renewed interest. As annoying as the man was, he was finally being useful.

"The festival is in eleven days, land travel will take a week or so to get there." Bishop Luis said. "But if you go by boat, it'd take only two to three days."

"Wait, what's the date?" Cyril asked.

"December twentieth," The Bishop said. "The festival will start on the first of the year, and go on for a week."

"What about Christmas?" Cyril asked.

"I am sorry," Bishop Luis said. "I do not know of this 'Christmas' you speak of."

"It's a holiday where people exchange gifts with their loved ones," Cyril said with a smile. "Saint Nickolas goes and gives gifts to all the good boys and girls, and people eat sweets, and decorate trees."

"That sounds... Quite lovely actually." Bishop Luis smiled. "But I've never heard of it. Many of the ancient holidays, along with history, has been lost to many wars and exchanges of power. The Dragon Empire celebrates very few holidays and less with festivals. The New Year is a festival to a celebration of life and good fortune. However, I think I very much like your idea. What day was it celebrated on?"

"December twenty-fifth." Cyril said." In five days."

"Well, are you going to hunt right now?" Bishop Luis asked.

"Mhm," Cyril replied.

"If I may, when you get back, could you explain Christmas in more detail?" Bishop Luis. "I believe it would be a much-welcomed respite for the townsfolk."

"Definitely," Cyril said with a smile. "We'll have a talk when we get back. C'mon, Fenrir; let's wrap up the hunting today."

"I never thought you'd say it," Fenrir smiled and turned back to the Bishop as Cyril walked away rolling her shoulders. "And you human."

Bishop Luis stiffened as the wolf turned his attention back on him.

"Thank you," Fenrir said.

— † —

Emperor Ryan Drakefang glared at his second son, Prince Aiden, as he examined his nails in the most obnoxious fashion. His first instinctual reaction was to toss the master-crafted copper dragon at him, the second instinct was to kill him where he sat. Both may have had something to do with his master bringing his child into the fold. Or, maybe it had to do with how arrogant he'd become in the last week, but that golden chain with a coiled dragon pendant served as a reminder not to.

Like him, Prince Aiden had grown nearly half a head taller. He'd been shorter than Desmond before, as shameful as that was, but now, he was nearly an inch shorter than him. That leveled him the First Prince, his eldest son. Once an indignant little shit that beat his servants whenever they looked wrong at him, he not took to luring pretty women in the city; off for what, Emperor Drakefang didn't care so long as it stayed under wraps.

And today, he'd even had the courage to waltz into his office during an important meeting, and the seat across from him. Of course, after removing the groveling minister that had sat in it. The minister was all smiles, of course, but that wasn't his problem. The problem was that this was not a luxury he'd even given his deceased queen.

Being that he was now under the protection of his master too, he couldn't just kill him outright. Thus, he turned to the minister.

"We'll convene on the morrow," The Emperor stated without turning his eyes from his disrespectful child. "I seem to have business with the child."

The minister was keen enough to see the tension, bowed, and escaped silently out the open door of the spacious study. Neatly recessed bookcases lined the far left wall. Trophies lined the other. Behind the emperor, a large wall that held a map of the known lands. On either side, two large four-piece windows the midday sun to shine through.

Emperor Ryan Drakefrang leaned back, his hands clasped in his lap, awaiting whatever unimportant thing his waste of a second son had to say. However, after a minute of silence, he figured out his son was just toying with him.

"What do you want?" The Emperor said in a deep partial growl. "If you have nothing better to do, you can go to train."

"I rather not," Prince Aiden finally put his hand down and looked to his father. "I want a large budget allocated to my palace."

"No," The emperor didn't pretend to even entertain that thought. "Start a business, or go run a city. Earn the gold if you want it, but you will not get any more from me."

"Are you sure?" Prince Aiden's eyebrows rose with amusement.

"I am sure," Emperor Drakefang fought the urge again to throw the paperweight. Brokenwing had expressly instructed that they were to work together, not to fight. But this child had inherited his pride from him, not his strength or his cleverness. That was Desmond's only redeeming quality in his eyes. His cleverness. Randol had his strength, but this one... Only had pride. Now he had power and pride, which often was deadly if they weren't the one at the top.

"Well then," Prince Aiden smiled. "I'll go earn it then. Good day to you, Father. Enjoy it - not."

The prince gave his father smile, one someone would give to someone who'd die soon, and waltz out the door, pushing aside the guard that'd almost crashed into him.

"Your Highness," The guard was quick to bow, but the prince ignored it. "Your Imperial Majesty." The guard bowed in the doorway a moment later, awaiting the emperor's acknowledgment.

Emperor Drakefang sent a death glare at the royal guard who, with his head down, didn't notice. He took that time to burn a hole through the man's skull before he acknowledged him. "Enter."

"Your Imperial Majesty," The guard stood up and saluted. "We've received word that the First and Second prince, along with Princess of the Fox Tribe, Princess Mai, has entered the palace. They seek an audience."

The emperor took a silent breath to calm his annoyance. He'd hoped his youngest would have died out there, but fate decided against it. Since his heir and his youngest had arrived with the rodent, he figured he'd hear whatever nonsense they had to say. The guard had disappeared for a moment, then appeared with the trio.

First Prince Randol was in his armor, per his fancy. And his other son and the rodent princess were dressed in their Dragon Academy mage robes.

"What do you want?" The Emperor said with a bit in his voice.

"I'd like to present this before I give you my report," Prince Randol said as he held up a small box he'd overlooked in his disgust for his youngest.

Emperor Drakefang gestured with his finger for him to place it on the desk. Randol took a few steps forward, placed it on the table, opened it with it facing himself before turning it to show his father. Inside the box was a small red orb, it shuns a deep crimson, but it was also transparent as a rounded diamond.

"This is?" The emperor felt the aura of the object without having to feel it out. It felt calming and homely. It made him feel at ease. He could feel his annoyance seeping away just by basking in its aura.

"An artifact called Tranquil Last Wish," Prince Desmond answered as his brother stepped aside. His father only looked at him with astonishment when he heard that. Tranquil Lash Wishes were up there in priceless artifacts. Formed only during the more violent and bloody battles, there had only been a total of five known orbs in existence. Four of them laid in the Theocracy's possession, and one in dwarven lands on the north-eastern lands of the Iron Mountains.

"How did you come to have this?" The emperor looked to his eldest before he shook his head.

"I didn't get it," Prince Randol denied. "Prince Desmond and Princess Mai obtained it during the expedition."

Randol nodded to his brother to take the lead, and his younger brother began to rattle off the happenings of their failed expedition. Despite how much he hated that child, for once in his life, Emperor Drakefang gave him a beaming smile of happiness.