Draconis was no doubt the rightful successor of the Myriad Empire. 

The city was open, and spread out as far as the eye could see. Towers stretched high throughout the city and poked out of the glimmering waters of the great lake, which also teemed with waterborn inhabitants. The city even crawled up the slopes of the mountain range that overshadowed the encompassing sprawl. 

It was a magnificence that was undeniable. 

Azmiranda Bladesong zipped through the sky over the city. Her four sharp wings carried her swiftly; she was little more than a purple streak as she passed overhead, followed by a faint metallic chime. She was heading to the peak of the highest mountain, where the Royal Palace of Draconis overlooked the entire city. 

The palace sat as part of the crown of the mount. There were open gardens and courtyards, with pinnacles, bulbs, and cupolas that gave the building a distinctive silhouette to all whom looked up to it. It was draped in Draconis blue and silver. Or was it platinum? The distinction was hard to tell. 

She landed on a wide stone platform, her sharp claws clicked as she trotted passed two guards whom regarded the Covenant staff she carried holstered along her side. 

Violet scales turned a different shade of purple near the scars on the right side of her snout and the same side of her chest. A white mane covered the scars that went down the side of her neck. She wore no robes today, for she had some disdain for them and this was an unceremonious occasion. She didn't care to walk uprightly right now, she was in a hurry. Her bladed spade tail twisted and curled impatiently as she made her way through the palace. 

The dragoness quickened her stride through the final courtyard, while the centaur landkeepers drew curious glances at her fast and lithe form. Her movement alarmed a few birds, who flitted to the safety of nearby shrubs and trees. 

Azmiranda entered the oval throne room via tall double doors. Here, she stood upright in respect. This place was like a stone garden, emphasis on the stone. The floor was smooth gravel and fine sand. Shaped stepping stones guided paths through the room while colorful rocks and gems patterned the ground around them. Glowing crystals from geode sconces and standing minerals gave the room a cave-like feel. The domed roof had openable slits that let sunlight fade down. 

The throne stood in stark contrast to the circle of stone around it, a dark jagged obsidian slab that glistened in the surrounding light. Thick blue cushions with platinum embossing gave King Orrus Myrian a comfortable place to sit on his haunches. 

King Orrus' onyx scales and black feathery back blended into the dark throne. His vibrant green eyes were emphasized, as well as his forward curved horns which looked like a thorned halo. His platinum headdress accentuated his tall crest with a sapphire and his horns with elongated shiny thorns. 

Azmiranda made her way briskly into the midst of various courtiers, then kneeled in respect. Head and neck down with wings and forearms spread low, her brass staff stood tall. 

King Orrus regarded her, promptly asking, "Imagi Bladesong, what news have you for me?" 

Azmiranda raised her neck and head, staring into the king's eyes intensely. "Liege, urgent intelligence: the prince of Draconia is travelling to Myrrah." 

Orrus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling smoke out through his nostrils. "So the time has finally come..." He opened his eyes into a fiercely determined visage. 

The orders began to flow to his courtiers. Other projects would be postponed and all efforts would be focused on a new objective: The capture of the prince. 

With the prince returned to Draconis, that damn Pyram would lose his most precious asset. He would be on his own, robbed of an heir, and humiliated that Draconis held his future, far beyond his reach. 

Orrus wouldn't be satisfied until Pyram was utterly vanquished, helpless and hopeless until his life collapsed in on itself. Such a thing he had longed for, which had not yet come to pass. 

The prince was the key to his revenge, and Orrus desperately wanted him alive. He would do whatever it took to have him safely within his firm grasp. To have him would be the same as holding the fate of the whole world. 

Azmiranda harbored similar feelings, she thought while her claws explored her familiar scars. 

After the court had recieved all their orders and were busy carrying them out, Orrus once again addressed the priestess. "Azmiranda, you still have strong desire to see the past rectified?" 

She stood, gripping her staff tightly. "Of course, that monster of a king will pay for what he did. I only wish it could have happened sooner." 

"This is our only chance," Orrus balled his claws into a fist. "Never again will it come. If it would, it would be far too late to matter." His bludgeon tail thumped the stone in front of him. 

"Where is it that you want me?" Azmiranda laid her paw flat on her chest, spade tail curled around her. 

Suddenly, the twin doors burst open. The metal chimes on her staff tinkled in response. 

"Father! You must send me on this mission!" Prince Drae Myrian stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the bright light behind him. 

Drae paced towards them, revealing his features more clearly. He had black scales, with a brass underside. His large angular horns pointed upward. He wore a platinum headdress with a U-shaped front, and rings that hung from loose chains between his horns. A ridged back and long thorny tail completed his look. 

King Orrus squinted at him while he stormed in. "So you wish to confront Syn yourself?" 

"Yes, I must be the one." Prince Drae declared, his tail swishing as he reached them. "Fate wouldn't have it any other way." 

Orrus resigned himself with a smoky huff, "So be it." Then he continued sternly, "Be reminded, this puts Draconis in a similarly precarious position. I cannot lose yet another to that sly bastard." 

Orrus motioned to get Azmiranda's attention, "Go with him, I will entrust my son to you, Azmiranda." 

"Yes, my liege!" She kneeled and bowed her head quickly, hiding a light blush on her cheeks while she gave Drae a sidelong glance. 

Prince Drae also bowed,  outstretched low, but for him it was just to show his thanks. 

"I have already sent skarsh special forces in a rush to intercept," the king informed them. "If they are successful in capturing him, you will need to take forces to meet them and secure him." He snorted. "If not, you will need to engage in Myrrah." 

Drae stood up, black wings kept unfolded. "I will return with Syn, in jubilation. Not to satisfy myself, but if only to make you happy, father." 

*** 

Prince Drae and Imagi Azmiranda were aboard the flagship Draconis. One of only a few in the world, the metal ship was painted blue and had platinum plated accents. It was the Draconis counterpart to the Draconia flagship. 

They had taken a riverboat from the great lake all the way to a military port on the distant coast. 

The occasion was unceremonious; it was far too important not to rush, so the fleet takeoff had abandoned any fanfare. Hundreds of wooden warships left continent Draconis, hastily following the special forces which had already left them hopelessly far behind their wake. They would have to link up after the attempt. 

Drae and Azmiranda leaned on the edge of the top deck, far above the main deck, yet the sea spray still kicked up and sprinkled over them. 

Drae gazed out over the surrounding armada, the taste of salt on his tongue. "-Why is it that he cares so much anyway?" He groaned. "It wouldn't be such a big deal if he just remarried and had more heirs." His tail twitched. 

"Drae, you know that your mother's death grieved him greatly," Azmiranda laid a claw on his shoulder, her other held her staff. "He has not the heart to remarry, at least not while his wrath continues unquenched." She clenched her scarred chest. "I was there when it happened, and I share some of his anger." 

Drae surveyed her scarred snout, but she turned her head away reflexively. 

"I was too young to understand what was happening," he muttered to her. "But I can still remember her a bit." His face was downcast in reminiscence. 

Azmiranda waited a moment in silence before recommending, "keep good memories, for they will remind you of what was taken from you." 

Drae gripped the railing, neck hanging over and eyes wandering over the waves. "My little brother is not going to accept this very easily," he predicted. 

"Over time, he will come to understand," she reassured and leaned her staff into both her arms, it jingled. 

He stood up straight, and looked her in the eye. "If my fate is to fall, it will be up to you to convince him." 

Azmiranda recoiled at that, her sharp quad-wings flared a bit. "God perish such thoughts! You will return to Draconis safely. Your father couldn't handle such a loss once again." 

"I'm Glad you have confidence, but the destiny of our family does not seem a bright one." Drae contemplated while he beheld the cloudy horizon. 

She stepped close and jostled him with a free arm. "Your destiny is not set out before you by somebody else." She said kindly, after he recovered, "It's not something you have to chase either." 

They spent a while together in companionable silence. 

The sails of hundreds of bobbing warships was a sight to behold. Each holding hundreds of soldiers, all eager and willing to set out on a mission that could very well end this war. Schools of dolphins were riding in the wake of some ships, a comforting sight for passengers and sailors alike. 

Azmiranda was fine spending time with the prince like this. She was fond of him despite being twice his age, which wasn't that old by the way. She was in her late seventies, still sort of young for a dragon. There was something about him that she liked: maybe it was how caring he was to his father and others, despite his hardships; or it could be the profound sadness she sensed within, which oddly resonated with her. 

However, she knew that they could never be together. His heart was far too closed off, which had prevented him from seeking out a wife of his own. And yet, she knew it wasn't right for her to seek him out. Instead, she would be there for him, when he needed someone. She was content with that. 

He was resting his forelegs on the railing when he looked over at her and broke the silence. "Thanks for listening, its hard to be strong all the time for the sake of leadership." 

Azmiranda was sat on her haunches and leaned on her staff. "Whenever you wish, my prince," her spade tail did a flourish. "Speaking of, what is your opinion on the special forces sent ahead of us? Will they be able to make this much easier for you?" 

Drae kept his place on the platinum rails while he evaluated. "They are excellent at naval combat. Some of them have good skills for capturing high value targets." He counted with his claws, like he was calculating an invisible problem. "With what we know about Draconia's forces... it would be challenging for them to succeed alone. But they are resourceful, so it might be possible." He nodded after he finished his answer. 

Azmiranda smiled and bobbed her head at him, staying in her relaxed posture. 

Prince Drae jolted upward. "Excuse me, but this has reminded me of something that I need to do." He moved passed her to the ship door. "I need to speak with the admiral. See you later, Az." 

And with that, she was left alone with her thoughts. She gripped her brass staff in quiet prayer. The tip was shaped like a static flame. It had a ring of hanging metal chimes which could produce various melodies with different movements. The staff was a symbol of her office. 

Officially, the Covenant was supposed to remain impartial towards imperial claimants. They were allowed to send official agents, Imagi, as representatives to witness and assist claimants. 

Imagi Bladesong was one such representative; she had served Draconis for over half her life. With all the events that had come to pass, she was convinced of Draconis' right to rule. She had come to resent the Covenant's impartiality, after she had suffered for it.  

Azmiranda decided to focus herself for the task ahead. She stoked her disdain for Draconia, and her hatred for its king. That country was a facade, and its king a theif. How could anyone even possibly believe that nation and city were viable candidates for the seat of the emperor? 

The true heir of the empire was the Myrian family, not the Sevis.