Wraith grumbled as the sunlight streamed through a window and hit him in the eyes. He moved a wing over his face and tried to go back to sleep. But then came the prodding of Cerulean's talons against his face.

"Hey, wake up, smoky." The blue drake snorted. He shoved Wraith's wing out of the way and poked him in the cheek. "You and I have work to do."

"Ugh…" Wraith blinked his eyes open and glowered at Cerulean. "Don't doctors usually say it's healthy to get plenty of rest?"

"And plenty of rest you got." Cerulean scoffed. "Now come on: you've got classes, and I've got patients."

"Alright, alright…" Wraith shifted to sit up in their shared mattress to get ready for work.

Ever since Cerulean had become a Deep Shadow, he and Wraith finally got around to courting each other. It wasn't much longer after that when they officially moved in together and became mates. And nearly four years later, they were already bickering like the old married couple they dreamed of becoming.

"Say, do me a quick favor…" Wraith said as he adjusted his robes. "Give that Lantel kid a quick thwack across the head."

"Hmm…" Cerulean glared back at the crimson drake. "Are you biased against him for picking that fight with the royal family?"

"Nah: I just think he's a twerp." Wraith snorted. "Ancestors help the dragons of Ignys when he becomes the fire king."

"Ha! I'll keep your request in mind." Cerulean nuzzled Wraith on the forehead. "Just get to work first, alright.

"Alright, alright…" Wraith held up his forepaw to snap his talons. "See you later, Blue."

"Sure…" Cerulean smirked.

With a snap of his talons, Wraith teleported off to other parts of the Dragon Spire. And that left Cerulean to head for the medical wing… he had to double-check on Prince Lantel anyway.

That prince has a lot of growing up to do…

~~…~~

"And there we are." Cerulean said as he removed the last of the bandages. "All fully healed."

Lantel sighed as he shifted around on the mattress. He flexed his wings and sighed in slight satisfaction as he gave them a few test flaps. The prince stretched out his legs, getting the crook out of them. Lantel sighed as he finally sat his paws down on the floor; it felt good to finally stand of his own accord again.

"Your set of clothes is right over there." Cerulean pointed to a large box on the other side of the room. "All of your personal effects were collected from your locker beside the arena."

"What about my armor?" Lantel asked.

"It's all packed up in your room, as far as I know." The icy drake snorted.

The fire prince sighed in derision. "Thanks, Guardian Cerulean."

"Deep Shadow Cerulean." The icy drake corrected. "Times have changed, Princy-poo."

Lantel took a minute to put on all of his usual regal items: his fine white cape, his stockings, his jewelry… and last but not least, his horn-rings. Lantel stood tall and looked himself in the mirror; ah, it felt good to see that big, strong, handsome prince looking back at him. But as Lantel was admiring himself in the mirror, he noticed a fire dragoness stepping into the medical wing: Deep Shadow Apella had arrived with a dour expression.

"Ah, you're just in time to collect the prince." Cerulean grinned as he gave his fellow Deep Shadow a nod. "He's currently getting all dressed up."

"Hmph, I can certainly see that…" Apella grunted. She politely nudged her way past Cerulean to approach Lantel. Her glare only deepened the closer she got to her nephew. Lantel winced as he turned around to take a regal stance. Despite his proud smile, the scales on the back of his neck shivered with worry: It wasn't very often when the former Guardian got so cross with him.

"G-Good morning, Aunt Apella." He gave a proud smile. "I'm finally all better now."

"Good." Apella said flatly as she sneered down at her nephew. "You and I need to talk."

"About what?" Lantel asked cautiously.

"About all of that business with Prince Rune." The dragoness declared. She pushed the door open and pointed her snout for him to get moving. "Come on: you have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on."

"What does it matter?" Lantel demanded. "It's not like I'll be staying here for much longer."

"And just what do you mean by that, young dragon?" Apella snapped.

"Isn't it obvious?" Lantel huffed as he stepped out into the hallway. "After Dad finds out what's been going on here, there's no way he'll want me to stay in the Dragon Spire for very long." The prince gave a scowl "Not while THEY are living here."

"Is that a fact?" Apella snapped. She followed the prince out into the hallway and slammed the door shut. She then marched ahead of him, snapping her talons for him to follow behind. Lantel shivered again as he followed after her; it seemed like she was more upset with HIM than the midnight-scaled bastard who'd put him in the medical wing.

"Aunt Apella… what's wrong?" He asked nervously. "What are you upset about?"

"Oh, lots of things…" The dragoness glowered. "Right now, the thing that's drawing the most ire out of me… is YOU."

"Me?" Lantel balked.

"Frankly, Lantel…" His aunt turned to sneer at him again. "I'm surprised you think your father is going to give you what you want, after all of this."

Lantel was growing more incredulous by the moment. "What makes you think otherwise, Aunt Apella?"

"You've made a complete arse of yourself lately." Apella declared. "And here I thought I could be proud to call you one of my best students."

"Wh-What?" Lantel gasped.

"I used to think you were a level-headed, if a bit proud, young prince." Apella snorted. "A fine specimen of our family line. And then… you go and build yourself a rivalry out of a newer student of mine." The dragoness rumbled in her throat. "Tell me: just how long have you felt emasculated by the presence of a black dragon in my classes? Was your pride really too wounded to swallow?"

"It… It had nothing to do with pride!" Lantel exclaimed.

"Oh, I'm sure it didn't…" Apella snorted again. "Your little wingspan-measuring contest down in the arena had NOTHING to do with pride." She wracked her talons on the floor. "Though it's not quite my place to say, I had absolutely NO ONE to root for in that match. Either my nephew, or a future high king, and BOTH of them still need my guidance. Whoever won, I had to watch someone I care for get hospitalized. Thank you so much for that, Lantel."

Lantel's expression weakened; he could see genuine hurt in his aunt's eyes. He could imagine the look of horror she must have had as she watched the fight unfold. Lantel could feel his confidence breaking down; m-maybe he never should have called for the challenge. Maybe he should have…

No. No, he couldn't let self-doubt in again. He had to find something to be angry about, and fast… aha! Of course!

"Why didn't you step in when the prince started freaking out?" Lantel demanded. "Why didn't you prevent him from putting me in the medial wing?!" He stamped his forepaw. "Didn't you just say you cared for me, Aunt Apella?!

Aren't you supposed to be looking out for me?!"

Apella slowed to a stop. She took a deep breath before turning to glare down at the prince. She tapped her talons on the floor as she ruffled her wings. "Do you… REALLY want to try playing that card?"

"Well… YES." Lantel said forcefully. "What do you think Dad's going to say when you tell him what happened?"

"What oh WHAT, indeed?" Apella gave a furious glare. "What will your father say, when he finds out that you think he's a laughingstock back in Ignys?"

Lantel's eyes widened. "Uh…"

"What will your father say, when he's told that you got between Prince Rune and Sandra?" Apella continued. She took a few, deep breaths as she stepped closer. "While I don't condone the two of them getting too physical before they're ready, at the very least I could respect them sharing romantic feelings for one another… granted, that's probably unlikely now. But I digress…"

She lowered her head to glare into Lantel's eyes, who shivered even more; he never liked it when his aunt got this way.

"What will your father say, when you declared a challenge against Rune and demanded that he use his full power against you?" Apella snorted. "Ah, but you wanted to prove what a big, strong young fire drake you are, didn't you?" She fanned out her wings. "You needed to flex your muscles, and try to beat down on a black dragon prince at his full power."

"Err…" Lantel tugged at the collar of his cape. He tried putting on a brave face. "I wanted to defend Sandra's honor!"

"No; you wanted to beat Rune into the ground, all while his own mother watched." Apella snapped. "And even when he tried to relent, you tried assaulting him in the ring. Attacking him. Pushing him further and further… and then, out of anger, HE FOUGHT BACK."

Apella slammed her forepaw against the wall, making Lantel wince.

"Do you have any idea what kind of a mess you've made?!" Apella demanded. "Your father, and Queen Elenar, have rubbed their scales RAW trying to build peaceful relations between light and dark dragons! Prince Rune is the future of Warfang, and you are supposed to be the future of Ignys! And you're trying to make mortal enemies out of him and his brother?!"

"D-Don't you care what has become of our family?!" Lantel exclaimed. "None of the fire dragon nobles respects our bloodline anymore!"

"Fire dragon nobles are NOT the future of the crown!" Apella prodded Lantel in the chest. "You are the FUTURE FIRE KING! You are supposed to be rising up to be the example that other fire dragons follow! But instead, you waste your time either flexing your masculinity or trying to make enemies out of your father's allies! What is WRONG with you, Lantel?! Are you trying to incite another war?!"

"NO!" Lantel screamed. He sucked in a breath and tried to keep himself from shaking.

"Why would I want ANOTHER war, after what happened to Ignys last time?!" He stamped his paw and glared back at his aunt. "But do you have any idea how horrified it made me see Sandra sucking up to Rune all the time?! She's acted like nothing bad happened to our family at all! Like King Baneth didn't bring our father into groveling submission, before nearly destroying Warfang!"

Apella sucked in a harsh breath; tiny flames burst from her nostrils. Lantel shivered yet again and stepped back; he feared that the former Guardian would lash out with all of her pent-up anger and frustration. But instead… she took another, deeper breath, and exhaled slowly, before finally glaring down at Lantel once more.

"Well, you got what you wanted, then." Apella lifted her head up and glowered at her nephew. "Sandra is now disgusted with Rune after he was pushed to the breaking point. And you won't have to worry about seeing Rune for a while anyway, now that he's left for Glenhaven. "She wiped off the sleeve of her robes and turned around. "I hope you're happy with yourself, Lantel. Because your father won't be."

With that said, the Deep Shadow strode forward down the hall. Lantel could barely work up the nerve to keep walking to follow her.

"Oh, and that reminds me…" Apella came to a stop and glared down at him. "Until further notice, you're no longer welcome in my classes."

"What?!" Lantel shouted in alarm.

"Your grudge against the black dragon royal bloodline MUST come to an end." Apella declared. "As such, you're going to be relocated to historical and alchemical classes up in The Nexus, starting TODAY."

"What?!" Lantel shouted even louder.

"You have an hour to each breakfast, and then you are to report to your first class with Deep Shadow Aegis." Apella declared. "And if you refuse, you're going to get an automatic F in all of your fire-related academics for the rest of the year."

The fiery Deep Shadow stomped her forepaw and shook the floor. Lantel struggled to keep from being knocked off his feet. The last of his confidence finally melted away as the dragoness bore angrily down into him.

"Do I make myself CLEAR, Lantel?"

"Y-Yes Aunt Apella." Lantel quickly said.

"Deep Shadow Apella." She wracked her talons on the carpet; tiny singes rose up from each talon end.

"S-Sorry, Deep Shadow Apella." Lantel squeaked.

"Good…" She took another deep breath and turned around. "Now, I have a class to prepare for. You better work hard at making things up to your father and me, Lantel. I mean it!"

And with that, the dragoness took off down the hallway, leaving her nephew in stunned silence. He couldn't think of anything to say to get himself out of this. Just like that, his reputation as one of his aunt's best students was gone. GONE. And all because of those fucking twin princes. Lantel scowled and turned to make his way to the galley… and he tried not to cry.

~~…~~

"Alright, kids." Wraith said with the best smile he could give. "It's only a bit of shadow-fire. You don't have to make a lot; just enough to light the match that each of you was given at the start."

Wraith stood at the front of a small classroom, with an even smaller group of students. There were only a dozen or so of them; three were no older than nine, and one of them was Cyrus. Cyrus wore his set of silvery robes, stockings, and jewelry; he always had a habit of making himself look more royal whenever Rune wasn't in town.

The prince had a bored expression as he sat as his desk. One by one, the other students set to work trying to create tiny bits of shadow-fire under Wraith's supervision. Naturally, the younger students had great difficulty; what shadow dragon didn't? But, of course, each of those little kids seemed quite glum that they couldn't pull off the technique properly. Wraith grimaced… until he got an idea.

"Alright, Cyrus, give your shadow dragon students a quick demonstration of your skills." Wraith grinned.

Cyrus just sighed as he stuck a talon out and created a bit of shadow-fire. Immediately the younger students ooh'd and ahh'd at the sight, while the students closer to Cyrus's age just grunted.

"Very good, Cyrus." Wraith smiled. "Now, let's take the time to show the others how it's done…"

Wraith wanted to be proud of Cyrus; it was easier than being proud of himself lately. These days, it seemed like all the other Deep Shadows had important roles. Grail was in charge of the military force within Warfang's walls. Apella was the Chief Swordmaster who also managed the defenses around the Dragon Spire. Cerulean was the chief medical officer and a damn good one at that. And up above? Aegis and Lilith were in charge of that little school in The Nexus that helped artificial dark dragons get used to who they were. Dona and Rose were the master spies; always sneaking around to make sure suspicious characters were caught before they did anything too heinous.

But Dona's up and run off with her daughter, Wraith thought with a snort. And Rose has her forepaws full trying to track down Bergan.

And then there was Albanion and Elza. Even with the wind dragoness technically out of active duty, she was the closest keeper of the High Queen's secrets. And Albanion… Wraith sighed. What didn't Albanion do? Salve-maker, Royal Bodyguard, Leader of the Deep Shadows… and beloved uncle to the princes.

Wraith came to a stop and sighed. Sure, he had the occasional job of teaching students about the various forms of magic… and that was about it. He hadn't seen any grand adventure ever since Prince Cyrus ran away from home.

I can't believe it: I'm actually reminiscing about that whole mess… Wraith grimaced. Not a good sign.

Eventually, Wraith was snapped out of his daydreaming when he heard a fierce burst of magical flames. He looked up to see Cyrus creating a considerably-large orb of dark flames over his head. The prince then proceeded to balance the mystical dark mist and fire upon a single talon, and he spun it about like a ball with ease. Once again the younger students were enraptured by Cyrus's antics, while the other students just rolled their eyes. Wraith, however, was a bit unnerved.

"Cut that out, Prince Cyrus." Wraith snapped. With a snap of his talons, the crimson drake stood before the prince. He opened her jaws and clamped it down upon the dark fireball, much the students' surprise. Wraith turned toward a window, opened it up, and belched out the flames. He then backed up and coughed, while a few of the students laughed.

"What was that about?" Cyrus asked.

"I ought to ask the same thing." Wraith declared. "That wasn't at all the technique I was expecting you to pull off, Cyrus."

"Yeah, well…" Cyrus rubbed his upper arm. "I've made about a thousand of those little darkfire matches over the years. It got a bit old, so I wanted to show the others what real shadow magic could look like."

"Uh-huh…" Wraith raised an eye ridge. "There's a time and a place for that kind of thing, you know."

"Well, why not here and now?" Cyrus declared. "Things have been rough in Warfang lately, and a lot of the other students are scared stiff. Although…" He put on a grin and fanned his wings proudly. "As long as they've got a single black dragon in the Dragon Spire, they can rest assured that they're safe."

There was an awkward silence in the room. Wraith just slapped his muzzle with a forepaw; of all the times for the prince to be a show-off. Wraith was tired of it, the other students were tired of it, and even Elenar was growing tired of it. Did Cyrus think that Wraith and the other Deep Shadows were unaware of his magical prowess? Why couldn't he be humble for once while in front of the other students? Why couldn't he…?

Wraith poked an eye between his talons as an idea struck his mind. He brought his forepaw down and turned a mischievous smirk toward the grinning prince.

"Alright then, hotshot…" Wraith snorted. "Since you're clearly ready to demonstrate all the advanced and incredible magic at your disposal… why not demonstrate to your fellow students how to properly teleport?"

Immediately Cyrus's grin was gone, and his eyes widened. "T-Teleport?"

"Yes. Teleport." Wraith held his forepaw before himself. "Something like this."

With a snap of his talons, Wraith was gone. He reappeared clear across the room in a puff of smoke, much to the younger students' surprise. Cyrus's face paled as he looked back at Wraith.

"It's the most advanced form of shadow-jumping there is." Wraith said. With a wave of his forepaw, a piece of chalk lifted up on the other side of the room and began writing of its own accord upon the board. "Normally a shadow dragon calls upon the deep core of their magic and has to heavily concentrate just to create the little pockets in space that allow is to seemingly sink into our shadows. With a bit more power, they can create two holes in space, along with a tunnel between the pair. We then sink through one hole, travel through the tunnel, and come out the end. Normally, this takes a minute or two to pull off properly."

The piece of chalk drew up a diagram demonstrating Wraith's lecture. The crimson drake held his own grin as he brought his forepaw before himself.

"But, with years of practice and training, and a whole lot of diligence, the magical holes in space can be conjured up almost instantaneously…" He brought his talons together. "Like so!"

Wraith snapped his talons and reappeared just before Cyrus's desk once again. The crimson drake placed his forepaw on Cyrus's desk, while the prince grimaced and shrank down in his cushion.

"So, oh great and mighty black dragon prince…" Wraith locked eyes with Cyrus. "Have you been studying enough to pull off the technique?"

"Uh…" Cyrus stammered. He wracked his talons upon the desk as his tail shook with unease. A few of the nearby students began to chuckle, which made the prince blush. "K-Kind of?"

"Kind of?" Wraith balked. "There is no kind-of teleporting unless you want to end up stuck halfway inside a wall." He moved his forepaw and cleared his throat. "So, either you can teleport, or you can't. Which is it?"

"I can!" Cyrus exclaimed defensively. "Of course I can!"

"Then do it." Wraith declared. "Demonstrate proper teleportation, Prince Cyrus. Up at the front, where everyone can see you."

Cyrus gulped as he rose from his seat. He slowly and awkwardly made his way to the front of the classroom, where he looked about at the other students. Wraith made his way over to a corner of the room to watch the spectacle unfold. As the prince awkwardly held a forepaw before himself. Wraith sighed as he looked upon the nervous twitches of the prince: He almost felt bad for putting him on the spot like that. But hey, if Cyrus was so desperate for attention, then he got what he wanted, for better or worse.

"O-Okay…" Cyrus cleared his throat as he closed his talons. "Here goes…"

Cyrus created an aura of shadowy black mist around his forepaw, and he shut his eye as he snapped his talons…

Poof

Cyrus vanished in a cloud of smoke… only to reappear a few inches over where he was standing. He landed with a grunt upon his feet, much to the awkward stares of the other students.

"Well…" Wraith said with a grimace. "That was… technically teleportation. I didn't necessarily tell you how far to go. Good job."

"I can do better!" Cyrus exclaimed. He immediately snapped his talons again. He vanished in a puff and then reappeared exactly where he stood. The prince then tried it a third time, more desperate than before. But after he vanished, not only did he just come right back, but he was upside-down. The other students had a fit of laughter as everyone got a not-so-glorious view of Cyrus's rump beneath his princely robes.

"Alright, alright, settle down all of you." Wraith ordered as he took center stage again. He stood before Cyrus so the prince had a chance to right himself and hide his flushing face.

"Let's just take this as a lesson on why it's important to be calm and to concentrate before trying advanced techniques for the first time." Wraith said; he lightly tapped Cyrus on the shoulder with his tail.

"It wasn't the first time…" Cyrus whispered irritably. Wraith just rolled his eyes at that.

After sending Cyrus to sit down, the crimson drake clasped his forepaws together; in an instant, a series of textbooks appeared on each and every student's desk, including Cyrus's.

"Let's all review the history of the Shadow dragons, starting with the old days of living specifically in places of extreme climates." Wraith said. Some of the students groaned, to which Wraith rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't act like its boring. Besides, it's going to be on the tests one day. I want to see muzzles in those books, kids."

As the students got to reading, Wraith sat at his own desk to prepare his schedule for next week. On occasion, he'd glance over at Cyrus, who still held flushing cheeks as he angrily read from his textbook.

Sorry, kiddo. Wraith sighed. Just trying to keep you humble.

~~…~~

After magic training came all of Cyrus's usual classes: History, Alchemy, Salve-making, Linguistics… all of the stuff that Elenar insisted that princes need to study to be wise dragons later on in life. Each one was more ghoulish than the last; especially physical combat training.

But all throughout his day, Cyrus couldn't get the incident in shadow-training out of his head. He couldn't believe that Wraith would make him look like such an idiot like that. What had Cyrus done to deserve being made into a fool? He snorted in frustration and wracked his talons on the arena floor; he only wanted to show how far he'd come. Cyrus didn't need all the other shadow students to know that he had trouble with the advanced techniques.

Damn it, Wraith…

Once the afternoon came, his classes were over and done with. Cyrus wiped off his brow and stepped out of the locker room.

At the very least, after several hours of performing combat maneuvers and magical know-how, Cyrus could relax for a little while in the study. After all, it was the first meeting of the study-group after Rune had left for Glenhaven, so maybe now the shorter prince could finally soak up all the attention… right after soaking in a private bath, of course.

After drying off, and a quick change of clothes, Cyrus was ready to catch up with the lovely dragonesses. He very cautiously grasped the knob and slowly turned it; he didn't want to give the impression that he was TOO eager. Cyrus held a confident smile as he pushed the door to the study open.

"I'm here, ladies." Cyrus said warmly as he strode into the study. "Now we can finally… finally…"

Cyrus slowed to a stop and looked around. The seats were empty. And the snack table was left completely untouched. None of the girls were here; in fact, it looked like they hadn't even bothered to show up. Cyrus blinked a few times as he looked around again. His eyes widened as it began to sink in. They weren't coming. Rune wasn't in the Dragon Spire… so they had no reason to show up for the study group.

Cyrus felt his limbs shake as he stood in the middle of the room. His eyes twitched, and he slowly puffed smoke out of his nostrils. He wandered over to one of the many empty cushions and slumped down into it. The prince gazed down at his fancy stockings and cape… They were all for nothing. His efforts to make himself as presentable as possible were for NOTHING.

The doorknob rattled again behind Cyrus. For a moment, he perked up a bit; maybe at least ONE dragoness had bothered to come; maybe they didn't ALL want to ignore the prince. His ear frills wriggled as he listened to their voice…

"Hey, sorry I'm late…" Chalice said from behind. "I was talking to my grandfather, and…"

Immediately Cyrus's expression became dour. Of course: it just HAD to be Chalice.

The grey-scaled dragon stepped around the prince and looked about in confusion. They grumbled to themselves as they took in the empty room.

"Well, that's odd." Chalice bit their lower lip. "Where is everybody?"

"Rune's not here." Cyrus said bitterly.

"Huh?" Chalice blinked. "Well, yeah, I know that. But that doesn't explain why the others wouldn't come to the study group today."

"Well, how could the Rune dick-sucking fanclub commence without Rune's dick to suck?"

Chalice balked at the vulgar remark. "Ugh, that's gross! Where did THAT come from, Cyrus?!"

Cyrus turned around and scowled at Chalice whilst flapping his wings in frustration. "And since Rune's not around, I have to wonder why YOU bothered to come here."

Chalice looked at Cyrus incredulously. "…For the study group, of course."

The grey dragon made their way over to one of the seats and placed their satchel down on the table. "And we can still continue even without the girls. Come on, Cy; pull up a chair."

Cyrus silently glared at Chalice for another moment. Chalice's smile faded away as they became increasingly more uncomfortable… as if Cyrus cared.

"Uh… Cy?" Chalice cautiously turned toward the prince. "Is something wrong?"

Cyrus sucked in a harsh breath. He looked to his left, and then his right as if some third dragon were in the room with them. He then fluttered his wings and put on a mock expression of shock.

"Oh, were you talking to me?" Cyrus tilted his head and widened his eyes.

"Wha…? Of COURSE I'm talking to you." Chalice exclaimed. "Why else?"

"I'm sorry: I'm just so not used to people noticing I exist." Cyrus declared with a whip of his tail. "Pardon me while I just slip back into the shadows."

The prince turned around and marched toward the door, while Chalice sprang up from their seat.

"Cyrus, wait!" Chalice trotted up to him. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing." Cyrus snorted. "This is just business as usual for ME."

Cyrus made to reach for the doorknob, but Chalice darted around him and stood before the door. The prince held back a snarl while Chalice looked him in the eyes worriedly.

"Cyrus, listen; I understand if you're upset about Sandra and the other girls not coming to the study group today." Chalice cautiously fluttered their wings. "But you don't have to give up on it: I'm here, and we can go over the subjects together." They put on a smile. "Come on: that's what friends are for, right?"

Cyrus just glared at Chalice. How dare he… she… this STRANGER waste his time with that crap? Cyrus stamped his forepaw on the ground and summoned up a pool of energy out of his shadow. He then silently sank down into the dark pool.

"Cyrus, where are you going?" Chalice asked worriedly.

Cyrus didn't answer; he just snarled at the dragon before promptly vanishing from view. The shadowy pool then slid around Chalice's paws and through the crack in the door. Cyrus didn't even care when Chalice grasped the doorknob and threw the door open.

"Cyrus, come back!" Chalice called out. "Talk to me!"

~~…~~

Cyrus propelled his shadow down the hall and around a few corners, toward the more densely-populated student corridor. A number of young dragons were walking down the hall, smiling and chatting and swinging their satchels around as they prepared to move on. Cyrus brought his shadow to a stop at the foot of a staircase, where a few wind dragons were arriving. All at once, Cyrus rose up from his shadow and stood tall, giving the dragons quite a shock.

"Hey!" A wind drake shouted in surprise. "Watch where you're going!"

Cyrus didn't respond; he just held his glare as he strode past the wind dragons and turned left to walk down a corridor. The wind drake stepped forward and yelled again, but the dragoness blocked his path with a wing. Cyrus, meanwhile, just snorted and made his way down the hall.

A number of dragons close to Cyrus's age were standing in the hallway and talking about what they were going to do after classes, with their backs turned toward the prince. Cyrus put a bit of earth magic into his muscles and kept moving in a straight light. He cut right through the group of friends, shoving a number of them out of the way.

"What the fuck?!" An ice dragon shouted. He and his friends snarled at Cyrus as the prince continued walking. "What's your problem, asshole?!"

Cyrus refused to look back; he just continued on his path down the corridor, smacking into students left and right whilst holding his tongue. Of course, it didn't take long for other students further down the hallway to take notice of Cyrus's behavior; most of them stepped out of the way, while the students he's already smacked into snarled at him and made obscene remarks.

"Hey, cut that shit out!" A poison dragon yelled angrily. "Who do you think you are?!"

Cyrus didn't answer: after all, he was nobody important.

A few moments later, Cyrus came to a stop as he arrived at the restroom doors. He glanced up at the sign for the female restroom and snorted. Without so much as a second thought, Cyrus pushed the female door open and strode inside.

There was a fire dragoness washing her forepaws, and a lightning dragoness standing by the window. When they saw the prince step inside, they immediately shrieked in alarm. But Cyrus ignored them as he stepped into a stall.

"What are you doing?!" The fire dragoness yelled as she approached his stall door. "This is the girls' room!"

Cyrus ignored her as he did his business. Once he was done, he pushed the stall the door open and casually walked over to the sinks to wash his hands.

"Hey, get out!" The fire dragoness stamped her feet. "I told you this is the girls' room!"

"I don't see what the fuss is about." Cyrus said sarcastically as he washed his hands. "I am a girl!"

The prince made a dramatic pose as he fluttered his wings and shook his tail. "After all: aren't I just REEKING of feminine grace and beauty?!"

"Ugh!" The fire dragoness slapped him in the face. "Get OUT!"

Cyrus didn't care if he was hit; he just snorted and strode triumphantly out of the restroom, to the continued shock and appall of the other students. He continued on his warpath, making his way with an overly-exaggerated strut to his hips. Cyrus didn't care if he slapped anyone with his tail.

"Don't mind ME! I'm nobody special!" He declared bitterly. "I'm just a girly girly, GIRLY-GIRL!"

Just about all of the other students were quite incredulous of the prince's behavior. But none of them made any moves to try and stop him or call him out; they just walked around the prince and avoided making eye contact. Cyrus just scoffed; as if all of their silent treatment ever did anything productive.

Eventually, Cyrus came to a stop before his locker. He unsealed the door, pulled it open, and searched through its contents for his satchel. He didn't need much; just some random items of his that he neglected to collect the other day.

Nothing important in here... Cyrus huffed as he sifted through various old portraits of his family members. He picked up a rolled-up scroll and glared as he looked upon the seal. Oh, look! It's my old copy of the Revival Ritual! I definitely never did anything important with THAT!

As Cyrus was going through his locker, he heard a familiar… annoying voice of a certain fiery princess.

"There you are!" Sandra shouted from behind. "I should have figured you'd be here!"

Cyrus narrowed his eyes: He knew this was coming. The prince shut his locker, sucked in a deep breath, and very slowly turned around to glare at Sandra. Sandra glared right back as she looked down her muzzle at the prince.

"Prince Cyrus, the girls and I have decided unanimously that we don't want to go to the study group anymore." Sandra declared with a snort. "We no longer tolerate the behavior of you or your brother Rune."

Cyrus held his glare; as if that wasn't already obvious enough from how they didn't bother to appear in the study room. This was all just a complete waste of the prince's time. So, he didn't respond; he just glared at Sandra and waited for her to just groan and walk away, as she usually did around him.

"So, not going to say anything?" Sandra huffed. "Not defending yourself, of saying I'm just a bitch?"

Cyrus tapped his talons in frustration. Fine, if she wouldn't walk away, then he would. He flapped his wings and turned to continue on his path down the hallway.

"Don't you walk away from me when I'm talking to you!" Sandra snapped. She charged after Cyrus, stepped around him, and blocked his path. "You've been a complete pest to the other girls, and we're tired of you!" She stamped her paws and growled. "At least Rune would have the decency to apologize!"

Cyrus's eye twitched; oh that was the last straw.

"Shut your mouth, you pain in the arse!" He shouted; it was loud enough that most of the other students stopped and gasped.

Sandra balked and looked at the prince incredulously. "Excuse me?"

Cyrus gnashed his fangs and puffed out his chest. "Who the fuck do you think you're fooling, huh?!"

"Fooling…?" Sandra repeated in indignation. Cyrus flapped his wings and stomped forward to glare into the princess's eyes.

"Ever since that damn match between Rune and Lantel, you've been a complete and utter BITCH to Rune!" Cyrus yelled at her; he put emphasis on the slur just to get it to ring in the corridor.

"Rune beat himself up over and over for letting you down!" Cyrus continued. "He bought you a gift for the Day of the Bonds as a piece offering, and you flat-out rejected him!" Cyrus flapped his wings. "And now that he's gone, you're defending him?!"

"I'm NOT defending him!" Sandra shouted. "He put my brother in the medical ward! I'd asked Rune to ease up on Lantel before the match, but he beat Lantel up and down the arena anyway!"

"Don't act like Rune wasn't pushed to the breaking point in that match!" Cyrus snapped. "We all saw the same match, Sandra: Lantel kept beating Rune down over his little grudge against my family! And he wasn't taking 'I give up' for an answer!" Cyrus fluttered his wings and stood taller. "It was only a matter of time before Rune gave him the business! Lantel had it coming, Sandra; we all know it!"

Sandra growled but didn't say much else. Cyrus saw it in her eyes; she thought that Lantel was asking for trouble.

"But rather than admit it, you decided to give Rune the snooty treatment and tell him to fuck off!" Cyrus stamped the floor. "But oopsy! You didn't think things through! Now you've left your relationship with your Sugar-Daddy on the rocks now that he's left town for half a year!"

Sandra's eyes twitched. "What was that?"

"Oh, was Sugar-Daddy not the right word?" Cyrus pursed his lips. "Maybe I should have called him your pimp." The look of disgust on Sandra's face was priceless, But Cyrus was only getting started.

"After all," He grinned, "you're not the only dragoness from the study group slobbering over herself to get a taste of him!"

Sandra's face darkened. "What are you implying?"

Cyrus held a sardonic grin. "I'm implying that the study group was a complete and utter sham. You and the other noble dragonesses only agreed to it for the chance to seduce Rune into your beds." Cyrus fluttered his wings. "I was available, too. But no, you all just wanted the future king as a prize. And of all the dragonesses bending over for Rune, he decided that YOUR booty was the nicest one!"

Cyrus snorted before grinning even wider, while Sandra shook with rage.

"Rune likes you the best! You're the lucky whore that he wants to jump on his dick! You're the one who gets to sink greedy little talons into his fortune and crown! Or, at least you would have if you hadn't have told him to fuck off! Congratulations, you stupid fucking SLUT!"

Sandra growled furiously. She pulled back her forepaw as flames shot from her nostrils. She was just about ready to slash his face…

…only to hold herself back, as she struggled to maintain her self control.

"Attack me!" Cyrus growled and sprung into a fighting stance. "I dare you! Let's have a good old fashioned catfight, right there!"

Sandra's foreleg shook as she snarled at Cyrus. The prince could almost swear he saw some sort of strange conflict in her eyes. If she wanted to slash him so bad, why wasn't she doing it? Oh, what did Cyrus care? He just wanted an excuse to retaliate against another fiery royal pain in the arse.

But ultimately, Sandra didn't attack; she just put her forepaw down, snorted, and turned to walk off.

"I'm not lowering myself to YOUR level." She said bitterly behind herself. "Find someone else to use as your emotional punching bag!"

Cyrus stood incredulously in the hallway as he watched the princess walk off. A growl built up in his throat; he was so tempted to stomp after him. But as the prince looked around, he could see a lot of other students staring at the prince in shock and horror. The prince, however, was far from being in the right mood to calm down.

"Oh, what are YOU looking at?!" Cyrus snapped at them. "There's nobody here but us girls! So FUCK OFF!"

The students were still silent as they scrambled to get out of the corridor. As they left, Cyrus fell back onto his haunches and panted angrily. Oh, he felt so much anger and aggression burst forth all at once; Cyrus hadn't vented like that since he was at the Well of Souls years ago. Still, it felt good to get it off his chest; it was about time he made all the other students get a taste of the anger that he'd had pent up all this time. For a moment, he finally felt good again.

"What in Cynder's name is wrong with you?!"

Cyrus gasped in horror. Ice formed along his spine as he slowly turned his head to look down the corridor. At the end, where the corridor split off into separate wings, were three dragons. Albanion was on the left side, Elza was on the right, and Chalice stood just behind them in the middle. Both the poison and wind dragons stomped forward with terrifying gaits. They came after him so suddenly that Cyrus instinctively opened up his shadow to sink into it. But he only got as far as his ankles before the two Deep Shadows were looming over him.

"Oh no, you don't!" Albanion grabbed Cyrus by the neck and forcibly pulled him out of the shadow. As Cyrus cried out in pain, Elza slapped him across the face with the backside of her forepaw. Cyrus could only mutter incoherently as the two of them glared as furiously as they ever had in their lives.

"Have you lost your MIND?!" Elza screamed. "Screaming at the top of your lungs?! Frightening the other students?! Mildly shoving and slapping them with your tail?!"

"Y-You saw all of that?" Cyrus asked with a terrified voice.

"Oh, we HEARD it." The wind dragoness growled. "And apparently you think it's okay to start mildly assaulting your fellow dragons!" She dug her talons into the floor, making Cyrus shiver. "And ONCE AGAIN the alliance between your mother and the fire dragon family line is close to falling apart! You called Princess Sandra a slut?! A SLUT?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Elza's voice got louder and louder, making Cyrus's ear frills wince. But then, all at once, she gasped and stumbled backward. Both Cyrus and Albanion had expressions of horror as the wind dragoness moaned in pain.

Elza began panting heavily with her tongue out; she backed up against the row of lockers and fell back onto her haunches. Albanion rushed to her side and placed a forepaw on her belly; he whispered something under his breath into her ear frill to help her relax. Cyrus looked on in horror at the state his aunt was in.

The stress… Cyrus's thought in horror. She's not supposed to get too stressed while she's gravid.

Eventually, Elza's breathing returned to normal, and Albanion sighed in relief. He helped her onto her feet and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Are you alright?" He asked soothingly.

"I'm fine…" She replied… only to turn to glare at Cyrus. "Relatively speaking, that is."

"Right…" Albanion turned to share the glare. "The throne room. Before your mother. NOW."

The prince could barely mutter a word in his defense as he was forcibly shoved down the corridor by the two deep shadows. He hung his head in shame; each and every nasty word and thing he'd said and done within the last ten minutes started playing over and over in his head.

But as Cyrus marched forward, he couldn't help but get the urge to look back. Chalice was still there, standing in the corridor with a horrified expression. And that's when it all clicked.

Chalice went and called them over. Cyrus thought with a snarl. He… She… THEY basically ratted me out to my own aunt and uncle! He shook his tail angrily as he turned to face forward.

The fucking TRAITOR.

~~…~~

After a long day of consulting with Elenar, it was time for Urobos to partake in one of his favorite pastimes.

Urobos sighed as he came to a landing upon the grounds of The Nexus. The guards stationed out front immediately bowed their heads and lightly pushed the doors open for the aged black dragon.

"Thank you…" He said quietly as he stepped his way through the doors.

The flight up to the fortress was often taxing on Urobos's old wing membranes; his days of flying through the air at high speed were well behind him. Still, flying up to the fortress wasn't nearly as exhausting as teleporting would have been. Urobos wasn't a powerful dragon; his last feelings of strength ended when that dreaded Eclipse did. Still, many dragons around Urobos looked upon him with equal parts admiration and fear. Urobos frowned upon thinking on this; such was the curse of being a black dragon.

Naturally, Aegis stood before the altar of the chapel. He spoke diligently with a few young dark-brown and dark-red dragons who all listened to a curious lecture. Curiously, there was a single student who stood out amongst the group with his bright red hide: Prince Lantel. Urobos's brow furrowed as he studied the bored expression on the fire prince's face. What was he doing here?

"…And thus, we move on to the scribing of the chants to the Ancestors." Aegis said at the end of a lecture. "I want the lot of you to open your textbooks to page one-hundred-and-thirty…"

The burly drake's voice trailed off as he looked down the aisle at Urobos. The rest of the class followed his gaze toward the aged black dragon.

"Ah, welcome, Elder Urobos." Aegis said with a bow of his head. When the younglings didn't immediately bow with him, the dark-brown drake brought his head back up and tapped his talon. "Like this, children. Like this."

Aegis once again bowed his head toward Urobos, and one by one the younglings repeated the action. Even Lantel gave a little bow; though clearly, he looked to be incredibly embarrassed by the gesture. The last one in the group, the youngest by the looks of it, shivered a bit as the black dragon got closer. Urobos pursed his lips, and then very carefully brought his head down toward the child.

"There's nothing to be scared of." Urobos said with a smile. "I'm just a silly old grandpa."

The child tilted their head curiously but said nothing. Urobos just sighed as he stood up tall to face Aegis. "Don't mind me. I'm just passing through to speak with Argos and Icarox."

"Ah, by all means…" Aegis stepped to the side and made a gesture with his one good wing. "Have a splendid time, Elder Urobos."

Urobos simply patted the burly Deep Shadow on the shoulder and marched forward to the back of the chapel. He looked back just long enough to give another warm smile to the children. But they were soon enraptured in their textbooks… although Lantel held a frustrated expression the whole while. Urobos was tempted to find out just what the fiery drake was doing here… but he had more important matters at the moment.

Several more guards bowed their heads toward Urobos as he ventured into the depths of the fortress. He nodded his head and gave them words of encouragement along the way, but none of them ever said a word of pleasant conversation to the aged drake. Urobos understood their demeanor; they had important jobs to do protecting the many youngsters who dwelled in the fortress. And yet, Urobos wished that there were more faces that were happy to see him. It's funny how he didn't use to crave that kind of admiration; when he was in his disguise as Gregory the alchemist, he wanted to keep himself scarce at all times.

Maybe I've just grown soft in my old age, Urobos snorted.

After his venture throughout the many corridors of the fortress, Urobos arrived at a little wooden doorway deep within the lower section. He gently pushed it open, revealing a little private chapel inside. It was a circular room, decorated with an assortment of candles. Argos was muttering silent prayers, while Icarox was wiping down the statue of Cynder with a damp rag. As the black dragon stepped inside, both of the twins turned their heads toward him and smiled.

"Ah, good day, Urobos." Argos said. "It's about time…"

"…that you joined us." Icarox finished. The dragoness put her rag down and spun about. "It's almost sundown."

"Sorry that it took me so long." Urobos said with a sigh. "The older I get, the harder it is for me to fly all the way up here."

Icarox gave him a bemused smirk. "You could always…"

"…shadow-jump on up here, lazybones." Argos rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a magic-slinging master, you know." Urobos said with a huff. "Look at these old bones; I can barely conjure up the simplest magics."

"We're about the same age as you are, but we don't have that problem." Argos declared.

"Not everybody is blessed with a twin who shares a magical bond." Urobos rolled his eyes.

Argos and Icarox laughed at this, before shifting to sit on their haunches before the statue of Cynder. Icarox looked back at Urobos and patted a spot on the floor with her forepaw. As she did so, Argos dipped his talon in a vial of black ink and began tracing out various glyphs in a circle around the statue.

Urobos relaxed upon the floor before the glyphs; he curled up his wings and took long, deep breaths. Icarox reached over to strike up a bit of incense, while Argos stretched out his back and shook his tail to get comfortable.

"So, what are we meditating on this time?" He asked.

"Anything that might give us eases of mind in these trying times." Argos said.

"The arrest of the leaders of the Sons of Culmubrae has done little to stop the flow of their violent attacks." Icarox frowned. "And there's a rumor that the dark dragon extremists are plotting an attack on The Nexus."

Urobos's spine shook with worry. "There must be something we can do."

"We must rely on our Deep Shadows to protect the children." Argos said. "And in the meantime, we should clear our minds, and reach out for the ancestors…"

"And pray for their guidance." Icarox gave a sigh. "I hope they listen."

All three of the elderly dragons shut their eyes and allowed the scent of the incense to bombard their nostrils. Urobos took deep, steady breaths as he let go of his conscious self, and embraced the darkness of his own inner mind…

For a time, there was calm. Peaceful and serene darkness surrounded Urobos. His mind's eye peered out at the great expanse that was Warfang. It stood tall, proud, and glorious; just like in the days of Urobos's youth. He could almost see his younger self gazing outward at the beautiful streets. And he was far from alone: All of his friends were there too. Argos and Icarox, once his rival students of shadow magic, would go on to be his lifelong allies and confidants. Urobos's brothers took to the skies with him; three young black dragons raced with each other throughout the skies. And when Urobos came to a landing as the victor, who should greet him but the love of his life? The crimson dragoness, Arachne, greeted Urobos with a kiss on his forehead. They hugged each other with their wings, while all the other young dragons congratulated them.

Oh, if only those pleasant times could last… and if only they were untainted. Two shadows loomed over Urobos and his circle of friends, though they came from separate directions. To the north was his father, King Hyperion. The fierce black dragon scowled disapprovingly at Urobos and his brothers. Nothing Urobos ever said or did ever seemed to make the high king smile.

Father… Urobos sighed.

And then there was the other shadow. The dragon stood tall and proud in his glistening Guardians' armor. His eyes were bound in leather, and he tapped the ground with his green forepaw. He issued some vague advice to young Urobos, and the prince took this advice to heart. After all: What reason did he have to distrust the ever-loyal Guardian Richteriel?

The present-Urobos scowled. I was such a fool.

Richteriel flashed a toothy grin at Urobos… not the past Urobos, but the mind's eye of his present self. The aged black dragon growled angrily at the ex-Guardian… who simply turned and walked away. But as Richteriel stepped out of view, his shadow stayed present on the ground. And out of that shadow, several more shadows sprang forth to snake their way across Warfang…

Something was wrong. There were cried of anguish and terror. Dragons clashed against dragons in a horrific battle. All along the streets of Warfang, drakes in golden armor crashed violently against drakes dressed in robes and white masks. Destruction and chaos ran out throughout the streets.

Urobos cried out in fear; he struggled to look for a means to escape but found himself stuck in place.

What's happening?!

Warfang wasn't the only place where battle and bloodshed rang out. The rampage spread across to the west, where the Prime Temple was swiftly overrun. Avalar was next; the people there cried out in terror as a swarm of wicked beasts rained down upon them. The Whispering Rainlands were set ablaze by a horrible fire shortly afterward. Then the terror stretched across the narrow sea, where the Pyrus Volcanoes sat.

More and more the terror spread across the realms. Crossbolt was overrun by enraged dragons. Swarms of black monsters made their march south toward Glenhaven. The island nation of Frostwryng was surrounded on all sides by wicked sea-monsters. The entirety of the dragon realms was engulfed in pure chaos!

What's responsible?! Urobos cried out. Who's doing this?!

Several pairs of deep, demonic, yellow eyes appeared in the darkness. Various scaled faces loomed over the city of Warfang and cackled as destruction spread like wildfire. Urobos shivered as the familiar form of a three-horned head began to take shape amongst the other silhouettes. A wicked cackle assaulted Urobos's ear frills as the figure grew larger.

No… Urobos's eyes went wide upon staring into those eyes. Not Malefor! Not again!

The dragon began to step forward into the light, revealing more of the dragon's face… and Urobos's terror only grew worse. It wasn't three horns, but nine; six more familiar ones were dotted around the dragon's body. The cackle grew younger and wilder the longer it went on, and white scales covered the dragon's body. His blood-red underbelly was scratched and scarred, and the birthmarks on his body glowed like wildfire. It was… It was…

"NO!" Urobos screamed out loud.

"Urobos?!" Argos and Icarox yelled in alarm. Immediately the crimson dragons flew to Urobos's side; they helped the black dragon onto his feet as he gasped and panted for breath.

"Urobos, what happened?" Argos demanded.

"I…" He said as he struggled to calm himself down. "I had a vision of the future!"

"What did you see?" Icarox asked as she helped him onto his feet.

Urobos felt a horrible chill, from his horns all the way to his tail-tip. He pulled his wings in as he struggled to find the words to describe what he saw. And the more Urobos described, the more the Twins became uneasy.

"Are… Are you really sure it was a true vision, Urobos?" Icarox asked worriedly. "It's possible that the scent of the incense interfered with your visions."

"I'm as sure as the sky is blue at midday." Urobos declared. "Chaos is going to spread across the realms, and Malefor is deeply involved."

"But Malefor is imprisoned." Argos snapped. "Baneth sacrificed his body to keep Malefor's soul trapped in the Underworld. He couldn't possibly find a means of escape AGAIN."

"Well… Malefor is very persistent: I'm sure the three of us can agree on that." Urobos said as he bit his lower lip. "His body was destroyed, his soul and essence were split across realms, and yet he came back. Then he was trapped in the core of the world for over a century… and yet he CAME BACK. If he can escape twice, then maybe he'll escape a third time."

Argos and Icarox exchanged curious glances. They then frowned at Urobos.

"But… what about the other faces you saw?" Icarox asked. "If Malefor was standing equally among them… then who were the others?

"I… I don't know..." Urobos sighed. "But what I do know is that I need to consult with Elenar and the Deep Shadows immediately."

He turned to make his way out of the chapel… only to gasp and come to a stop. The last part of his vision suddenly became as clear as day.

"Wait…" He shivered again as he turned around. "I… I think I saw Rune somewhere in the vision, too."

"You did?" Argos asked worriedly.

"Where is he?" Urobos declared. "I need to find him immediately!"

"But… he left, Urobos." Icarox replied with a frown. "You were there to see him off, remember?"

"I…" Urobos blinked and scrunched in his muzzle. Of course; he'd hugged his grandson goodbye and sent him off with a wave as he left with the Guardians for Glenhaven. But if he was out of Glenhaven… Urobos felt yet another cold spell come across him. He sucked in his breath and struggled to use his fire magic to keep himself warm.

"Fetch me some life crystals!" Urobos declared. "I need to contact Dona with a shadow-mirror! I need her to report on in how Rune's been behaving since he left for Glenhaven!"

He scrambled over to the supply table and began searching for some spare crystals. He nearly knocked over several candles in his haste.

"Urobos, calm down!" Icarox pleaded. "You'll only over-exert yourself if you push on like that."

"I can't help it." Urobos bit his lower lip. He turned around to look Icarox in the eyes. "I… I've never seen a disaster like that before, Icarox. Not since the days of Runileon, or that blasted war!" He looked back down at the supply table. "If Rune is somehow tied into that kind of chaos…"

The aged black drake fell backward onto his haunches and shivered.

~~…~~

Greetings, friends and loved ones.

And so ends another chapter. I'll bet nobody was expecting Cyrus to have quite a meltdown like this. But alas, Cyrus hasn't been very happy lately, and he was bound to take it out on someone. Let's just hope that the prince learns to find a more positive outlet for his emotions… before things get worse for him.

Tenebra ecce Veritas