I do not own The Dragon Prince.


The night sky was clear and bright with the moon a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. For elves, it was known as the traitor's moon, a night where dark things were bound to happen.

"A fitting moon for a night like this." Aaravos mused out loud as he gazed upon it; despite it being only a crescent moon, it illuminated the sky as brightly as a full moon would have. It was so bright that it was easy for him to see the shadowed forms of a dozen skywing elves as they descended from the darkness of the night sky to attack him.

"Aspiro Frigis!" Aaravos called out as he unleashed a freezing blizzard of magical energy that froze the skywing elven warriors that tried to ambush him. The magical energy froze them solid mid-flight, their wings and talons becoming useless, causing them to fall to the earth below, where their bodies shattered into a thousand pieces. He let out a tired sigh; he had been fighting for three days straight, unleashing numerous magical spells upon his enemies; his power was waning much like the moon above him.

Aaravos looked at his surroundings, he had beaten the latest attack against him, but he knew it was over. He stood at the peak of one of Xadia's highest mountains, a suitable place to make his last stand after the rest of elven kind had turned on him. Below the peak, he could hear the sounds of battle, screams of rage and pain from his followers and enemies alike, as well as the sounds of dying warriors.

The night was clear, and the mountain was free of snow, but the wind still carried an otherworldly chill, a chill that made him realize it was all over. There was no victory for him today; already, he could see dragons circling the mountain, many had fallen to him and his followers, but their numbers were legion. He had numerous contingency plans, but most wouldn't work here. A part of him felt like surrendering, the dragons would most likely imprison him, and prisons could be broken out of. But what if they didn't imprison him? Death would be an end to all he had hoped to accomplish.

He doubted they would kill him, though. There would be a trial; his people loved their trials. The Earthblood elves would want imprisonment for eternity for him. The Sunfire and Moonshadow elves would want him executed, as would the Tidebound elves, the Skywing elves would wish to exile him the dragons...they would inflict a fate worse than death upon him. They always had unique punishments for those that displeased them. His own people, the Startouch elves, would probably not even bother showing up to a trial, always arrogant and far too busy for such trivial matters.

"None will stand judge over me..." The idea of allowing the ignorant masses to judge him left a foul taste in his mouth; he refused to give them the satisfaction of deciding his fate. Yet death would be the end of all his plans. He had already set things in motion, events that would change the fate of this world, but there was still so much for him to do.

Before he could contemplate his situation more, he saw it, a shadow moving towards him at breakneck speeds; as he raised his hands before him to defend himself, the shadow revealed itself to be a Moonshadow elf, an assassin. The assassin closed the distance between them; his assailant was male and wielding a longsword made of white steel.

"Traitor!" The assassin's blade left a silver trail in the air as it was brought down upon Aaravos's shoulder, a cut that was most likely meant to cut him in half. It would have worked if not for the fact that he had enchanted his robes with earth magic to make it as strong as plate armor, spell weaved cloth was the best defense a magic-user could ask for, and all of his clothing from his robes to his socks were made of it. The only thing it lacked was the ability to block the shock of a blow, so while the assassin's blade didn't pierce his flesh, it still felt like he had been hit with a stick made out of metal.

Pain flared up in his left shoulder as he felt the metal of the blade hit him full force, but better a bruised shoulder with a cracked bone then being cut in half. "You should have aimed for the head," Aaravos muttered as he brought up his right hand to the assassin's face, which was frozen in apparent shock at the ineffectiveness of his strike.

"Sol Soluti!" He called out as white flames burst forth from his hand and engulfed his attacker's face. The elf fell to the ground, his face had been vaporized, and the white flames quickly began eating away at the rest of his body until nothing remained but ashes.

He truly was tired; if he had been at full power, an assassin would never have been able to get so close. As he nursed his now badly aching shoulder, he considered the now dead assailant's words. Traitor? He knew he was being called Aaravos the Betrayer by many of his kind, but to hear it in person was something else entirely. If not for the pain in his shoulder, he would have laughed at the elf's words. "Fools often persecute that which they do not understand." He reminded himself, as he often had to do. It wasn't his fault that the rest of his kind were so ignorant and couldn't understand his vision of the future. "I am no traitor; I am the true Xadia!"

His dark thoughts turned away from his people and towards his own body. It took all his energy to not fall to his knees; his body ached, he was still bleeding lightly from a wound he took to the left side of his chest from an overzealous attacker who had tried to get the drop on him earlier in the night. As he reached for his wound, he felt something large attached to his bel; he pulled it out and saw the key. It was an artifact that his followers had taken to calling the Key of Aaravos because of the power it could unlock. He simply saw it as a key, yet it had been forged by the most powerful magic in the world, all primal sources being used in its crafting.

The key gave him an idea, a way to escape his enemies with them believing he was dead. A chance to start over, free from the scrutiny of the world. Yet the cost would be high; great magic always required a great cost. Was it a price he would be willing to pay?

Thunderous roars echoed throughout the night sky, breaking Aaravos from his thoughts. The dragons were on the move, and in his current state, victory was impossible. It was the sign that he needed to make his decision. He stared at the Key in his hands and let out a tired sigh. Many would consider the fate he was consigning himself to as a fate worse than death. A terrible sacrifice...but it would be worth it if it meant he could someday get his vengeance upon those who had wronged him.

"As long as I still draw breath...My fate is my own...whether it be for better or for worse." He took the key, and with his free hand, grabbed at his lightly bleeding chest wound. He used his now bloody hand to wipe his blood on each side of the Key; he lacked any reagents for a proper dark ritual, so his blood would have to suffice as the energy, catalyst, and anchor for his spell. "None will stand in judgment over me, not the dragons, not the elves, no one..."

"Eno sa delaes eb luos dna doolb!" Aaravos began to chant as he held the Key in his hands. The key glowed red as it began to absorb the blood he had wiped on it, he felt his body weakening, and he soon fell to his knees, but he kept the key firmly in his hands, ignoring the horrible pain that coursed through his body. The pain was a small price to pay to avoid the Dragon's judgment; it didn't matter if he had to wait ten years or a thousand years.

Then he felt it, the pain, both hot and cold, like magma and ice flowing through his body. His body was awash in ice and fire as he continued chanting the words of the spell that would be his doom and salvation.

Instantly it was done, the pain faded, and all he saw was darkness.


Callum felt heat returning to his body as he sat near the fireplace of the Banther Lodges game room. He had spent almost the entire day out in the snow making snowmen and having snowball fights with his mother and his aunt Amaya; being here and sitting next to a warm hearth was the perfect way to close out the day.

Only a few years ago, he had been living in a small two-bedroom house with creaky floors, a leaky roof, and a simple straw-filled mattress for his bed. That had been before his mother married the King of Katolis, now he was a prince who lived in the lap of luxury, there were still times that he had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Once his body had warmed up he picked himself up and looked around the game room for something to do. The game room had numerous activities, but most of them required two people to play. His stepfather and mother were busy downstairs tending to his little brother Ezran, and his aunt Amaya had left to patrol the surrounding area.

"I could draw." Callum looked over at his sketchbook, a gift from his stepfather. Usually, he could draw for hours on end and never get bored, yet tonight he felt like doing something different. He looked through the large storage cupboard that was against the wall but found only board games and card games that required two people. He saw board games such as chess and cyvasse lining the shelves of the cupboard, none of them one player-friendly. There were also card decks for games like Wicked Grace and Gwent, but those also required two people. The room had ornamental shields on the walls; he was tempted to try and grab one, so he could pretend to be a knight, but they were too high up for his six-year-old body to be able to reach.

Just when he was about to give up hope of finding something to do, his eyes were drawn to a small ornamental box on a mantle. Deciding that it might have a game inside, he walked up and opened it. He could only let out a disappointed sigh as all that was in there was a small cube with numerous strange symbols on each side.

"Is this a part of a game?" He asked himself as he looked at the numerous symbols on the cube. Could it be part of a board game? Perhaps you had to roll it like a set of dice? He remembered hearing about puzzle cubes from places like Neolandia; perhaps it was a puzzle of some sort?

Callum tried to twist it in hopes that perhaps it was some type of puzzle cube. He twisted as hard as he could until suddenly he felt a sharp pain fill his right hand. He dropped the cube onto the floor and turned his attention to his hand. There was a cut straight across his right palm, deep enough to draw a fair amount of blood. He looked down and saw that one of the runes' sharp edges had dug into his flesh when he was twisting it; the cube itself was now dotted with red from the cut.

Callum's first instinct was to run to his mother; she always knew how to bandage up a cut and make it feel better. "I'm too old for that; I'm six years old...I'm not a baby." He remembered Soren making fun of him when he cried after he got a splinter from a wooden sword during a sword-fighting lesson. The worst part was that Claudia had been there watching them spar when it happened. Intent on not crying, he walked over to a washroom down the hall and washed his hand in a basin, and wrapped it in fresh linens that were in the washroom cupboard. Thankfully the bleeding stopped rapidly, and he walked back to the game room with a sense of pride at being able to tend to his own injuries.

Callum returned to the game room and went to retrieve the cube, intent on cleaning his blood off of it and returning it to its original resting place. Yet when he saw the cube, he almost keeled over since all of the symbols had started to glow a dim red.

Mustering up his courage, he approached the cube, intent on figuring out what was going on with it. As he reached for the cube with his good hand, he felt the air grow thicker and felt as if someone else was in the room with him.

"Speak…" A voice called out from nowhere and everywhere. It was a deep yet soothing voice, it sounded distinctly inhuman. Callum looked around the room to see where the voice had come from, but he was completely alone.

"Speak so I may hear your voice…I know you are there..."

"Who are you?!" Callum called out as he looked around the room, a sense of fear and dread filling him. He was breathing rapidly, and his hands shook as he tried to find the owner of the voice.

"Ah…." The voice sighed in a strange tone that Callum didn't quite understand. "How long has it been since I heard the sound of another voice? A child's voice as well, do not be afraid child, little star."

"If you don't come out, I'll get my parents!" Callum wanted to run out the door, but he wasn't sure if the owner of the voice was outside the door or in the room with him. He grabbed a poker from the fireplace and held it in front of him as if it were a sword.

"Calm yourself, little star, I mean you no harm...in fact, I wish only friendship between us…"

"I don't need friends." Callum kept looking around, slowly pacing the room with the poker in front of him, ready to strike if the owner of the voice showed himself. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere; a feeling of dread etched itself into the bottom of his stomach. He turned around and then he saw him.

Standing in front of the fireplace was a tall figure who towered higher than either of his parents. The figure was beautiful, skin that was a lovely shade of midnight blue, long, illustrious white hair that seemed to almost glow when the light of the fire hit it; the figure's skin also had illuminated markings that looked like stars, which made the strangers skin almost look like a tapestry of the night sky. It was only when Callum inspected the stranger's face closer that he realized the individual was a man; the stranger's glowing yellow eyes bore into him with mischievous curiosity.

Once he got over the shock of seeing such a being, Callum collected himself and held the poker in front of him. "Who are you? What are you? What are you doing here?"

"So many questions, little star, and I have many of my own. Perhaps we could sit and have a calm discussion?"

As entrancing as the strange man was, Callum knew better than to talk to strangers. He threw the poker he was holding at the stranger, only to watch in both amazement and horror as it passed through him as if he wasn't there. Rather than getting mad, the strange man simply let out a light chuckle.

"Child if you would calm yourself, I can explain…"

Callum turned and ran; he threw open the game room door and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him down the halls of the Banther lodge with the intent of finding his parents. But before he could reach the end of the hall, the mysterious man appeared once more at the end of the hall, seemingly appearing out of thin air.

"Enough of this little star, I mean you no harm. It would be quite literally self-defeating for me to harm you. We are bound by blood now if you will only let me explain-"

"Mom! Help, there's a stranger here!"

"Have it your way, call your parents. It will accomplish nothing."

Within seconds there were thunderous footsteps coming from the other side of the hall as both his mother, Aunt Amaya, and several guardsmen came running to him.

Callum was sure he was safe, that they would protect him from the mysterious stranger, but they ignored him. In fact, his mother ran right through the stranger and seemingly passed through him as if he were made of smoke.

"Callum, what's wrong?" His mother asked as she ran up and grabbed her son. "Are you hurt? What on earth did you do to your hand?!"

Callum looked down at his hand; in all his panic, he had been moving it around, and as a result, the cut had reopened. Blood soaked through the white linen and dripped onto the carpeted floor of the lodge.

"I'm fine, but you need to take care of the blue man!" Callum pointed at the black-robed figure who stood at the end of the hall, he was watching Callum with a very satisfied smirk.

"Callum, there's no one there..." His mother said as she gazed directly at the space, the stranger was standing.

His aunt began signing something, and her trusty partner Gren began translating. "Callum might be hallucinating due to losing so much blood, especially given his small size."

"I'm not hallucinating! He's right there!" Callum pointed at the man once more. "He's blue, and his skin glows!"

"Sweetie, it's okay," Sarai said as she hugged him tightly. "You just hurt yourself and got scared; let's get you to bed. You'll feel better in the morning."

"But...but..."

"Your mother's right," Gren said, translating for Amaya. "You need rest, and perhaps a cookie and juice to help you feel better. I'll even have some guards stationed outside your door to make sure no blue men come for you."

Callum wanted to protest, to tell them all that the stranger was real. Instead, his mother picked him up and began to carry him to his room. He looked up over his mom's shoulder and saw the stranger waving innocently at him.

"We'll have our talk later, little star; for now, you should listen to your mother and get some rest."

Callum wanted to scream, to tell them all that they were wrong, but he felt lightheaded as his mother carried him to his room. Perhaps he had lost too much blood…

Callum closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, he opened his eyes to see a candle burning on his nightstand. Callum hefted himself up and yawned; he looked out the window and saw a world of pure white as it was still snowing. It was a night with a full moon, the moon making the snow glow with beautiful illumination. He looked to his hand and saw it had been wrapped with fresh linens.

"Are you feeling better, little star?"

Callum looked to the corner of his bedroom and saw him. He was sitting in a large cushioned chair, his eyes glowing in the candlelight same as the star-like symbols on his flesh.

He wanted to scream, to yell out for his mother and the guards but stopped himself. He had already made a fool of himself before; he knew that the person in front of him was real, but no one else could see him for some reason. "Are you a ghost?" Callum asked; he had heard stories of spirits and wraiths haunting people. Spirits that only the person being haunted could see.

"A ghost? That's one way to put it, I suppose. My body has most likely been dead for a long time; all that remains is my soul. I sealed it away into the key with my blood. When you cut yourself upon the key your blood awakened me from my slumber." The ghost explained in a casual tone as if Callum had asked him to pass a dinner roll.

"So...your haunting me?" he didn't quite understand what the man was saying but he managed to get the gist of it. "Can't you just go away? I don't want to be haunted."

"Not possible, I'm afraid, we are bound by blood. Your blood mixed with mine in the key; we are connected by ties stronger than anything in this world or the next. But do not be afraid, child, I mean you no harm."

"So...you're not going to possess me? Or kill me?" He asked, unsure of that strange ghost's intentions.

"Of course not; in fact, I wish to help you." The ghost said in a tone that made it sound like he was offended by Callum's implication. "You are my liberator and savior. As for possession...while I do wish for a body of my own once more, you need not fear possession from me. Two souls fighting over the same body never ends well for either party involved. Usually, the body can't take such a thing and literally explodes."

"That's...good...I don't want to explode." Callum sat up straighter in his bed; his fear was slowly dissipating. He knew he should be afraid, but the stranger in his room was so...pleasant. His voice, the way he talked and acted. Callum decided to figure out exactly who the stranger was. "So...who are you? Also...what are you?" He looked at the stranger's head and saw two horns sticking out from his head; whatever he was in life, he clearly wasn't human.

"Forgive my rudeness, little star; It's been so long since I've talked to someone it seems as if I've forgotten my manners." The stranger stood up from the chair he was sitting in and gave a curt bow. "I am Aaravos; It is my pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Now that you know my name, might I be blessed to know yours?"

"I am Prince Callum of Katolis, son of Queen Sarai and stepson of his Majesty King Harrow," Callum said in his most noble voice. Ever since becoming a prince, he had been drilled on protocols and manners, the most important of which was making proper introductions with all the right titles and honorifics.

"Ah, so a prince has come to deliver me from my eternity of loneliness. It's almost storybook material..." Aaravos answered with clear amusement in his voice. "What can I do to repay such a debt, my noble prince?"

Callum rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment at the way he was being addressed; it was still strange being addressed as a prince."Umm...I would like you to leave me alone...but I'm guessing you can't leave me because we are bound by blood?"

"That is correct noble prince. I'm sorry to burden one so young with such a thing. I had hoped one of my friends or followers would come across the Key and release my spirit. Sadly it has somehow ended up in your hands, my deepest apologies."

"It's okay." Callum was happy that the ghost was at least a nice ghost; it made him feel at ease; it was kind of like having an imaginary friend that was real...sort of. "So...what do we do now?"

"That is an excellent question, noble prince," Aaravos said as he walked across the room. Callum noticed how he didn't indent the carpet as he walked; he really was a spirit. "While I wish to find a body to inhabit, the rituals for such a thing are well beyond your abilities to procure...for now I simply wish to know what's been going on in the world since I sealed myself away."

"Okay, I'll try to answer your questions. My tutors say I'm very book smart." Callum had been learning from the best teachers and philosophers in all Katolis since he became a prince, he was fairly certain he could answer most questions Aaravos had. "But if I answer your questions, I want you to answer mine. Who are you? Why does your skin glow? Do you have-"

"Easy there, noble prince, we won't get anywhere like that," Aaravos said while taking a seat in a chair next to Callum's bedside. "How about we play this like a game of questions? You ask me a question, I answer, then I get to ask you a question, and we continue like that until neither of us has anything left to ask."

"Sounds fair."

"Since you are a prince, and therefore royalty, I think it's only fitting that you go first, ask me a question," Aaravos said generously as he gave the young boy another bow.

"What are you? You're not human, and you don't look like any type of elf I've ever heard of. My aunt Amaya says elves have pale or brown skin, but yours is shiny."

"Indeed, I am a Startouch elf, we are few in number and rarely get involved with the affairs of humans or even other elves. Now for my question, what year is it?"

"292 years since the kingdom of Katolis's founding, almost a thousand years since the division of the continent. I think 992 years since Xadia was split, but I'm not sure." Callum answered academically, remembering his lessons.

"Long have I slept a dreamless sleep...no point in regrets now. Go on and ask me another question."

"What's your story?" Callum asked curiously as he looked into Aaravos's glittering yellow eyes.

"My story?" The elf seemed caught off guard for the first time as he was taken aback by the question.

"You know, your life story. It must be a good one if you sealed yourself into a cube...also, it counts as being only one question."

"You are a clever little prince...my story might take a long time to answer...I will tell you, but in exchange, I get to ask you five questions after telling you a slightly abridged version of my story."

"Deal, now tell me." Callum got comfortable in his bed; ever since becoming prince, he never got bedtime stories since his mother was so busy being a queen.

"Now for my story...It all began in the first age, long ago…"

Callum spent the rest of the night listening to Aaravos tell his story; they asked questions about each other's lives, about the world, and even about mundane things like their favorite hobbies and foods. Each question led to an answer that was as fascinating as Aaravos himself; Callum found himself entranced by the elf; he had never met anyone like him. He didn't speak down to him like most adults, nor did his flattery seem forced like the flattery most servants gave him.

As he asked and answered questions, he found himself wishing the night would never end.


King Harrow watched his stepson sit in front of the fireplace of the Banther Lodges main hall; the boy had become obsessed with the Key of Aaravos, an old curiosity that had been kept in the Banther lodges game room since he was a boy.

"He really likes that old toy, doesn't he?" Harrow asked his wife, Sarai who was sitting next to him, cradling their two-year-old son Ezran.

Sarai nodded as her gaze went from Ezran to Callum who was writing something down in a blank notebook he had borrowed from the library of the lodge. "I've never seen him so interested in something that didn't involve drawing. What did you say that cube was?"

"The key of Aaravos," Harrow answered, remembering what his father had told him about the key. "An old heirloom passed down my family's line; it's said to be a key to something wondrous in Xadia. It was once owned by Aaravos, an elven archmage who was a master of all primal sources. It's said the orphan Queen herself stole it from Xadia before the founding of Katolis."

A look of worry crossed his wife's face as she looked at Callum. "Is it wise to let a child play with an old elven artifact? What if it's dangerous?"

Harrow let out a light chuckle at his wife's concern. "Don't worry dear, that cube has been inspected by every arcane expert in the Kingdom and beyond, even Viren dismissed it as a simple glow toy. According to my ancestors, it's a key to something in Xadia."

"I don't like him being curious about magic; you know how I feel about it..." Sarai held Ezran closer as she gazed at Callum. "You might tolerate Viren's obsession with the dark arts, but I find them disgusting."

"That's something you share with Callum." Harrow put a comforting arm around his wife. "Your son isn't interested in dark magic; he practically vomited after he went to one of Claudia's lessons with her father."

"True..." Sarai seemed unsure as she looked at her son. "I still worry though...he's so young, and I feel as if-"

Before they could continue with their conversation the sound of the doors of the lodge being flung open, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, the doors had opened so suddenly several of the Crownguard reached for their weapons.

Cold winter air whipped through the lodge, the warmth that had once been present in the main hall practically evaporated as the familiar figure of Lord Viren walked into the lodge, he was wrapped in furs that complimented his usual court attire, and he was leaning on his trustworthy mages staff which also functioned as a walking stick.

"Viren." Harrow got up to greet his friend and closest adviser. "What brings you here?" He had left Viren and the rest of his councilors to handle affairs of state while he spent a few weeks at the winter lodge with his family. Only a matter of great importance would bring his closest adviser here in the dead of winter.

"Ill tidings, I'm afraid," Viren answered as he shook off some of the snow that clung to his clothes. "We've had crow messages from the Kingdom of Duren. Both Queens of Duren are personally coming to Katolis on a matter of great importance; they seek an audience with you."

"Both Queens?" Harrow didn't like the sound of that; the leaders of a kingdom didn't make sudden visits to discuss the weather. It had to be an issue of state that had far-reaching implications. "Do you know why they are coming?" He already had half an idea of why they were coming; Duren was the breadbasket of the five kingdoms; he had heard that the last harvest had run into several problems.

"Most likely to beseech us for aid, I've heard dire news of a possible famine this winter." Viren shook his head sadly. "Regardless, it would be rude for both Queens of Duren to come seeking an audience with you only to find you not at the castle. I hate to cut your time here short, but you must be at the castle to receive them when they arrive."

"Indeed, it would be rude and diplomatic suicide to not receive both Queens with all the honor that is due to them." Harrow wanted to go alone and let his wife and sons enjoy their time at the lodge, but it would be rude for his own queen not to be present at the castle with them. That would mean cutting their little winter holiday short.

As if sensing his thoughts, Sarai got up and began ordering the guards and servants to begin packing things up for their return to the castle. Harrow dismissed Viren and ordered him to return to the castle to prepare it to welcome the queens. With royalty visiting, they would have to prepare guest rooms and have a feast to welcome their guests.

Harrow saw everyone moving except Callum who was sitting near the hearth, staring at the key of Aaravos with a sad expression. Harrow walked over to his stepson. "I know it's disappointing for our vacation to be cut short, but I need you with me when I receive our guest at the castle." Callum's eyes looked up at Harrow; the boy was pouting the way only children can do. "Don't give me that looks, Callum; we can come back once our business is done at the castle."

"I know… it's just that." The boy looked at the elven artifact that was in his hand. "I was hoping to have more time with Aara-I mean with this cool cube. I think I'm close to figuring out how it works."

Harrow had to resist chucking; it was endearing how children became so attached to simple trinkets. He knelt down to Callum's level and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "How about I lend it to you? You can bring it back to the castle and try figuring out its secrets at home."

"Can I really keep it? When I asked you what it was, you said it was a family heirloom, so I figured..." Callum looked away uncertainty, which was all Harrow needed to know what he was thinking.

"We don't share blood, but you are still a member of my family Callum." He had tried to keep a certain distance from the boy, out of respect for the memory of the boy's birth father. As a result, there had always been a certain divide between them, one he hoped would someday close on its own naturally. "Just promise to take care of it, alright? That little cube you're holding is older then Katolis itself."

"I promise to take good care of it, my king," Callum promised with all the seriousness a six-year-old could muster.

"Good man." Harrow gestured towards the stairs that led to the Banther Lodge's rooms. "Now hurry up and get packed; as a prince of Katolis, you have to be by my side when we receive the Queens of Duren." He watched the boy run off, nearly tripping on the top step in his rush.

He hoped Callum could enjoy the innocence of youth a bit longer, yet as those thoughts passed his mind, a cold wind swept through the room, sending a chill through his body. He looked out of one of the windows of the lodge and saw the snow was falling even heavier; winter had come in force this year.

"Winter has come...and I fear many won't live to see spring..."


Aaravos stood next to the Banther lodge's open window and watched the king of Katolis as the man muttered to himself, an amusing man by all accounts. Yet behind his smiles and jovial attitude, he could sense the hard, strong ruler beneath the mask he wore for his family.

It had only been a few days since he was released from his self inflicted prison, and already he could feel numerous plans stirring in his mind. When not musing, he tested the limits of his new body...or lack thereof. He found that he could be a fair distance from Callum but too far, and he was pulled back towards the boy; his spirit was drawn to the blood bond they now shared. He felt no hunger nor desires of the body, but all his emotions were fully in check, which he was thankful for. He had heard of ghosts and wraiths, losing themselves to powerful emotions.

When not testing out his new incorporeal body, he had eavesdropped on the King and Queen but found the two rather boring, they talked little about anything other than their love for one another. Perhaps things would get more interesting when they returned to the castle. The guards were just as boring and lacked any real personality. He had listened to two guards talk about breakfast for over an hour the other day; it was enough to make him wish the dragons and elves had captured him.

Due to the lack of anything interesting going on, he found himself spending most of his time with Callum; the boy was rather interesting...yet he couldn't figure out why the boy interested him. By all accounts, there was nothing particularly special about him aside from his amazing artistic skills. The boy wasn't even royalty, he was merely the king's stepson, his birth mother a commoner, and his birth father most likely a commoner as well. Yet, for some reason, he saw endless potential in the child; he wasn't sure if it was because there was potential or if he was simply drawn to the only person who could see and talk to his spirit.

"A prince of common birth and an incorporeal spirit...that's fine, empires have been built by less," He mused to himself as he let out a chuckle. "Ah, young Callum, we will accomplish wonders together."


Authors note

I'm labeling this as an AU since no doubt canon will contradict any world-building I try to do. The creators have mentioned there will be seven seasons planned, with not even season 3 being released as of me publishing this.

If you are here for my other stories, I understand you want them updated but keep in mind I write what I enjoy, and right now I'm enjoying the Dragon Prince.

I'm obviously taking creative liberties with Aaravos since we know so little about him. Will my version be like the show's creators? No clue…

Will I take this story seriously? Probably not; with the show only having two seasons out so far, no doubt the number of retcons coming my way will make me abandon it until the show finishes, then I can write a proper fanfic. The only reason I'm writing this and publishing it now is because it won't leave my head, and I figure I might as well add to this fanfiction section since it has so little content.