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At a distance the walls of Anya Sur had seemed smaller, but as they rode closer the larger they loomed until it was clear that they reached far higher than the ones that surrounded Castle Illian. The capital city that lay at the heart of the silver sea, once so distant, now sat before him and set within its walls were the largest set wooden gates Waylen had ever seen.

“We approach, then give carriage, Your Highness." The leader of his escort told him in poor Radian. The dragon was riding next to him on his right side while Captain Landon rode to his left. Behind them was the rest of their lengthy convoy, and there was nothing ahead of them but the city itself. He was at the front of the procession where a Prince ought to be, or so he thought he should be, given the present circumstances.

He drew in a deep breath, the heat of the sun cooking him inside and out as the sweat dripped down his face until he was forced to break his façade of stoicism to wipe away the sweat with a hand.

From behind him someone blew a horn, crafting a strange tune that carried an unknown message within its notes, then the dragon at his side urged his camel forward and the convoy moved with him towards the city entrance. At the foot of the gate was a small army of soldiers standing in formation, all armed and clad with polished steel, a powerful show of force to greet their arrival.

When the convoy finally closed the gap between itself and the city there was a lone figure ahead of them, approaching on foot. The dragon walking towards them was tall and muscular and dressed as a soldier. This one had the darkest complexion he'd seen yet, and as he drew nearer Waylen saw the dragon's features come into focus, seeing now that a scar had been drawn down the center of his face before running off to the side of his snout. The dragon was clearly male, wearing a scowl like a mask, and the scar added an illusion of anger to his otherwise calm body language.

The dragon's eyes wandered to Waylen, then towards Landon before shifting his gaze around to the dragon on Waylen's right. His escort snapped a salute across his chest and nodded his head before speaking quickly in the native tongue of the desert. The only words he understood was his own name, butchered badly by both accent and poor grasp of a foreign language.

“Your Highness, Prince Waylen of Radiah, welcome to Anya Sur." The dragon then spoke to him at last, drawing his hand patiently over his chest before bowing to him. His speech was clear, but thick with accent. There was not enough spoken for him to know how well he grasped the language, since for all Waylen knew this had been a speech well practiced in advance.

“I thank you. It has been a long journey, and the walls of your city are a welcome sight to the weary." Waylen replied, uncertain of whether his words would be understood.

The dragon actually snorted in reply, leaving him confused.

“We did not build these walls to welcome the weary, Your Highness. They were built to punish those who stood against Her Majesty."

Now he was caught off guard, having offended his host at first greeting, and he did not even know this one's name.

“A Prince of Radiah does not oppose the Queen, dragon with no name." Waylen countered, and slipped some bite into his own tone, assuming the mantle of his station since to his knowledge there were no living males of equal rank to Waylen in all of Anya Sur. His only better was the Queen herself and his only peers were her daughters. Whoever this dragon was could not be a prince or otherwise.

“I am Roc Er Fel'Noy. Queen Yvvie welcomes Radiah with open arms. When you are taken past the gate you will leave your camel and take a carriage to the Keep of Anya Sur." The dragon replied, surprising Waylen with his grasp of Radian. A moment later and Waylen was promptly ignored as the dragon pivoted on his heel and began to walk away from him and towards the city gates.

Waylen looked to his left and found Landon looking back at him with a frown. They exchanged a wordless conversion of expressions, ones of confusion and mild offense. Waylen had been given a name, but no station. As the dragon ahead of them left them behind the dragon at his side urged them to follow and the convoy began to move forward once more towards the great gates ahead.

The horn sounded a second time with another strange tune, and the gates began to swing open for them. As they rode through the gates he studied them, saw that they were built from the trunks of several old growth trees, each lashed to the other with great bands of steel. When had he ever seen trees so large? Only trees that were the oldest of the old in the deepest forests of Radiah were the trunks so thick as this. It would have taken great effort to bring these here from so far away.

They then marched their camels forward slowly as they followed the Roc inside, the earth beneath them turning from harsh cracked ground to the smooth stonework of large hand carved tiles. A great road lay before them and set at its sides were stables full of camels and horses, with even more soldiers standing guard up and down the length of the road, standing shoulder to shoulder. Easily hundreds of warriors were visible from his perch atop a hump.

In the middle of the road ahead of them stood another lone dragon, standing right in the path of the one named Roc. He was walking towards… her? This new face was surely female, her figure feminine, but clad in armor same as the rest. Waylen cast his gaze around carefully and counted not one soul that looked like a peasant or servant. There was not a person in sight that wasn't prepared for battle, and further down the road he could clearly see buildings of all sorts, a marketplace with many storefronts, but all barren and devoid of life. He felt like he'd ridden into a garrison instead of a city from the stark lack of common folk.

The sight of such a long road devoid of life was as uncomfortable as it sounded. Such emptiness was not normal for any city, especially for what was supposed to be a capital of a mighty kingdom.

Roc Er Fel'Noy stopped in front of the female, bringing the convoy to a halt behind him. He gave her a curt salute. She returned it, then they exchanged some words he couldn't understand before the male turned around to face the Waylen and the rest.

The tall dragon looked Waylen in the eyes, offered him a salute, then pivoted to walk briskly to the side of the road where he assumed a post between two soldiers. He shouted something fierce in Atinan, their native tongue, and the assembled soldiers, the many hundreds of them, stamped their right foot before drawing their arms over their chests in salute. Speaking as one, every dragon assembled shouted something in their foreign tongue, the sound of so many harsh and foreign voices was… intimidating to say the least, but he did not let it show.

The female ahead of them began to approach, and when she was within spitting distance of the camel she stopped, saluted him herself with a formal bow. Upon rising she smiled, the first sign of warmth he'd seen from a dragon, and it was nice knowing they were capable of the gesture.

“Welcome to Anya Sur, Your Highness. I am Commander Nell Fah Sol'Nu, and I will be escorting you to the Queen's Keep." She spoke in decent Radian. Her accent was as thick as any of the others he'd heard, but she spoke his tongue better than Roc had, speaking as if she had more practice with it.

“I am grateful to have arrived, Commander. Please, do lead the way." He took initiative, and the female nodded to him before turning her head away to the soldiers standing to his right side. She began to shout at them in Atinan, all the warmth of her smile vanishing as she gave some unintelligible instruction. Soldiers then began to move around them, two approaching Waylen and Landon to extend a hand, gesturing for them to dismount.

Waylen didn't need help leaving a horse, and his camel was no taller than he was accustomed to. He dismounted on his own and the dragon took the reins and began to lead the camel away to the stables, and in return a horse drawn carriage was emerging to take its places. Once the carriage was out on the road the female approached Waylen and spoke to him.

“You will be taken to the Keep to meet with Her Majesty. The rest of your entourage and belongings will be taken to your quarters. Please, step inside the carriage." She told him.

Waylen turned, looking to Landon with a nod, and then he in turn looked back towards the convoy behind them. Landon raised a hand and silently gestured to one of the other guardsmen riding further back with the rest. Among them, it was Richard who jumped down from his camel and stepped forward to join them. Then as a group they approached the carriage with a dragon holding the door open for them while they all boarded.

Once inside they were shut inside, and the shouting of foreign tongues echoed, the carriage now beginning to move while the assembled soldiers maintained their posts like statues around them.

“Empty place, Your Highness." Landon said, speaking freely now that they were the only three in the carriage with no dragons to listen.

“I noticed. It's strange." He agreed.

And it did not get any less strange as the carriage drew them through the city. A simple peek outside the carriage window revealed that the city, as expansive as it was, was deathly quiet. You could hear the noise of the wooden wheels rolling over sand coated stone, the clopping of several pairs of hooves as horse and camel alike rode towards the looming spire of rock that was the centerpiece of Anya Sur, but nothing else.

Every building sat lifeless, every door shut, and every window covered by shutter or curtain. He tried to see any trace of life, and the evidence was there that it indeed existed. Countless footprints pressed in the sandy ground proved that vast throngs of people used these streets commonly, and he swore that he saw a curtain sway in the wind as if someone had been peeking out at him from a window, but he was too slow to see if there had been eyes looking back at him.

He eventually gave up his search, and chose to relax himself, trying to enjoy the shade of the carriage even though the heat was still nigh unbearable.

“Big moments on the horizon, Your Highness." Landon said aloud, and he nodded in reply.

“Very big." He agreed again.

“And you will meet them well and do your kingdom proudly. Your father was not wrong in sending you." The encouragement was nice, and Waylen could only silently nod as the biggest moment of his life drew rapidly near. He couldn't see the fortress ahead of them, but he felt it as the quickening of his heart seemed to act as a signal. He felt as if he was in danger, but he quelled those dark thoughts with a deep breath. He was in safe hands here, in this parched land of scorched Earth, regardless of how it might have seemed. These people were friends from afar, and he was to be their guest.

He slowly exhaled and began to recount all the different ways he might introduce himself, of all the things he might say to the Queen. His script was neatly written in his mind, but there were so many variables he did not know. There was no way to predict how the Queen would act, or what she would say. Waylen had never met her before. She was nothing more than words on paper to him, a mysterious figure that lived only through the stories he'd been told by his parents and siblings, but all their meetings with her had been brief.

He felt unprepared.

Waylen would need to think quickly, improvising as necessary. He was not a swordsman like his brothers, but if he could wield his tongue as sharply as they did their swords he might just do well today. Another deep breath, followed by a slow and patient exhale.

A half-hour later and the carriage came to a stop, and within moments the door next to him was opened before he was encouraged to exit. Soon as he did with Landon and Richard close behind him the carriage was shut and being led away. They stood now at the steps of Anya Sur, the massive pillar of natural stone rising high into the sky, its sun-bleached surface reflecting the sun's rays, not hiding the heat under which it stood. And at its base was the Keep, carved right into the rock, the fortress Waylen had only been told stories about.

Rising many stories high, Waylen could see why it was called a fortress. What invading army could ever hope to break the walls of raw earth, a castle built of solid rock? With its many balconies and parapets there were so many ways for the defenders to engage an enemy from above without needing to spare a single soldier below. Waylen was no general, but he'd played enough chess to know that the Queen of the silver sea was not so easily checked when her throne was this magnificent piece of impenetrable earth.

Around them now were a dozen dragons, each atop a camel, who were now dismounting their steeds and moving to flank Waylen and his two guards as if they needed protection. The female from before had dismounted a camel of her and was now approaching him. He had to take note that she was as tall as all the other dragon's he'd seen this close, maybe slightly more so.

“We are at the foot of Anya Sur, Your Highness. You will be taken to the Queen now. Please, follow." She told him, then pivoted on her heel, her tail swishing across the stone and throwing sand in her wake.

He adjusted his lapel and began to follow her. Waylen and his group were then led up a long series of steps towards a pair of wooden doors set deeply into what must have been the Keep's main entry. High above and looking down at them from their parapet perches were the dark silhouettes of dragons in armor. Dozens of them. As they ascended the stairs they were flanked by even more soldiers, all clad in armor. He couldn't imagine how hot it must be to wear plate armor under a sun like this, but none of the soldiers he saw seemed to waver at their posts. Perhaps the dragons really were resilient beneath the sun, as it had been claimed.

The doors ahead of them opened slowly, and by the time they reached the doorway the muscles in Waylen's legs were burning from the exertion of climbing so many steps in this kind of wicked heat. Sweat dripped freely from his brow, and he feared he'd lost all his regal presentation by simply reaching the Queen's front door.

The female stepped to the side and pivoted to face him and gestured for the three of them to enter. As soon as they did the doors were shut behind them, leaving everyone to stand in the shade of a dimly lit room illuminated only by what light the ceiling allowed in. Cut through the stone above them were narrow slats through which light shown, and set into the walls were numerous lanterns, each of which was lit.

It was cooler inside than out, but that said little. The edge of a frying pan can burn you just as easily as its middle. Sweat continued to bead up on his skin.

A small procession of dragons approached them from across the hall with a tall dragon at the head of the formation. This one, another male, turned his head and nodded to Commander Nell before turning his attention back to Waylen. By the looks of him he was someone of importance, commanding the dragons around him with his presence alone.

“Your escort." The dragon spoke, his accent heavy and with Radian poorly learned. He turned away from him then and gestured for another dragon to step ahead. This one, a slender male, clad not in armor but rather in long grey robes and a white shawl about his shoulders, stepped closer and bowed deeply with a sweeping gesture of the hands. He was skinny, very tall, looking like he was a tree plucked of all of its branches. He was the palest dragon he'd seen so far with skin like the warm blush of a maiden's cheek, with a dark hue of auburn under his chin that ran down the front of his neck.

“Your Highness, Prince Waylen of Radiah, we welcome you to the city of Anya Sur. Please, do follow, the Queen is waiting your arrival!" The dragon told him, rising from his bow to his full height before urging him to follow along behind him.

“Of course."

Compared to this rest, his Radian was quite good, but carried notes of wrongness and wrapped in the accent that he now realized was the norm for the desert. He began to follow with Landon and Richard in tow behind him, and then they were off down a hallway with the male dragon that had only just greeted them being left behind at the entrance. His troupe of three had now grown into a coalition of ten as they marched through the fortress, a copious display of heavily armed muscle surrounding him, with two of the soldiers appearing to be female, but no less armed or armored as their male peers.

As they were led deeper into the fortress the slats in the stone ceiling disappeared, robbing them of natural light, and soon all that was left to illuminate the halls were the many wall-mounted lanterns. Their orange light bounced freely off the pale-colored stone, helping to improve visibility, but this was still a poor substitute for sunlight, and it took some time for his eyes to adjust to the lack of natural light.

After several minutes of walking, both through hallway and stairwell alike, his calves were aching hotly. They rounded one last corner and were now being led towards a set of wooden doors. He was wishing they could stop to rest, and none of the dragons around them appeared bothered at all by the distance or their pace. Waylen would have to endure it until it was done if only to maintain the appearance of strength. He was a prince, and a prince couldn't afford to whine about his calves hurting in the presence of a monarch.

Eventually, they reached the pair of doors where two guards stood at attention at either side of the passage. The skinny dragon that led them gestured to the armed guard that had followed them here, and they quickly moved to take up posts at either side of the hallway before they all pivoted to face each other, stepping backward to set their backs to the wall. All ten of them struck a sharp salute, their voices silent, but the sound of steel rapping against steel was audible like a pair of hands clapping.

“Your Highness." The slender dragon pivoted to face him then, and cautiously approached with a subservient bow of the head.

With the dragon being nearly a foot tall than Waylen, he had no choice but to look up at the dragon no differently than he had a short few years ago when approached by his father. The dragon was scrutinizing him almost as fervently as his mother would have done, which left him feeling uneasy as this seemed inappropriate behavior for a foreign servant to present towards visiting royalty.

“Please, prepare yourself for Her Majesty's presence." The dragon told him before reaching to his waist where hanging from his belt was a small pouch. From the pouch the dragon quickly drew a leather canteen and a piece of cloth. He extended both to Waylen who looked at the items with confusion.

“Your face and neck, Your Highness. The men of Radiah dirty beneath the sun." The dragon insisted he take the items, and then Waylen relented, taking them for himself.

Now that he understood what was expected of him before being allowed to see Her Majesty, he soaked the cloth with water from the canteen and wiped his face and neck down until he was certain he had restored some of his presentation, then ran his fingers through his hair to make sure it wasn't unkempt from his journey. Though he felt awkward preparing himself in front of an audience of strangers, he appreciated the consideration being given to him. Waylen turned and looked to Captain Landon who eyed him closely before nodding back to him with approval. He could at least trust that he wouldn't look too disheveled now that he'd been given at least this much freedom to recover himself from his journey.

“Thank you." He replied and returned the items. The dragon bowed, taking the cloth and canteen, and stuffing them back into the pouch at his side.

“You will follow, leave your guards behind. Only you, Your Highness, are permitted to enter." The dragon told him, as if it was an order and not a request.

This sudden change in attitude surprised him, and then with a sudden pivot the dragon wordlessly began to issue commands, revealing that this servant must be of some rank if the soldiers surrounding them were so quick to obey.

The two soldiers at the door took a step forward, then leaned themselves out to take the steel handles of the door in their hands. With a snap of the fingers from the slender servant they each yanked on the handles, drawing them open swiftly, the air brushing past him like wind.

“Follow now." The dragon muttered sharply before straightening his posture and marching forward into the room beyond. As the doors parted Waylen fixed his stance and followed the dragon's lead, the gap between the oak widening to reveal the room beyond them.

Far ahead of them on the other side of the room he could see a raised stone platform, upon which a lone figure sat upon a large wooden throne while three others stood to their either side. Waylen steeled himself, gathering his composure and hoped to make a good first impression. This was the time to cut sharply with the tongue or be cut down himself, his reputation, and that of Radiah, depended on it.

The room Waylen now found himself in was large and circular, and just like the first room he'd entered upon arriving at the Keep's entry there were long slats cut through the ceiling above them that allowed natural light to flood in. Here the ceiling was so high up that to fall from it you'd perish from the drop, and the walls and floors were polished as smooth as river stones. Great crimson banners hung from the walls with intricate metal inlays carved into the stone beneath his feet. A quick glance revealed it all to be steel, not an ounce of gold or silver to be seen.

As the slender dragon drew him deeper into the room, he grew more intimated. Even back home in Radiah the castle he grew up in did not boast a throne room of such immense scale! The walls were carved of the same tan stone he'd seen elsewhere in Anya Sur, but the floors appeared to be made of marble with its swirling patterns of white and green. The steel set into the marble was laid out in the pattern of tree limbs with many great trunks and boughs brought to life by the marble to appear to the eye as a forest of emerald trees.

But the desert had no trees, so why were they being depicted here, he wondered?

The dragon that led him gestured silently to the center of the room before bowing and stepping away to find a place far to his side. Waylen followed the gesture and found a raised dais resting in the very center of the room, only an inch higher than the marble around it. The dais was a round plate of solid steel and on its face was an emblem. A sword and an axe crossed over the silhouette of an oak tree, but around the plate's edge were dozens of scratch marks, like a knife had been used to carve into the bare metal with purpose. The marks looked similar to what he'd seen elsewhere, and he wondered if this was more of the dragon's written language.

With another step he found himself standing on the dais, where he stopped with his feet set together, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. It was clear that everyone brought before Her Majesty was meant to stand in this spot. He lifted his gaze high and adjusted his poise. The moment had finally come and now he would have to meet it with as much dignity and grace as he could muster.

He looked across from him at the seated figure, who was a dragon of great stature. This female could be none other than the Queen and standing at her sides Waylen knew must be her three daughters. He eyed each of princesses carefully, assessing them but without the knowledge necessary to put name to face. In his periphery he could spot numerous other dragons both clad in armor and some without. There must have been an audience of some fifty dragons in this room, but they all kept their distance, and held their tongues.

The dragon that had led him into the room broke that silence with a gentle clearing of the throat.

“With great respect to Her Majesty, the Queen Yvvie Fah Ro'Sah, Prince Waylen Sundile, 3rd son to His Majesty Rylan Sundile, the noble King of Radiah, seeks an audience!" The male called out from behind him, a message that carried easily by the hard surfaces of the room, and whose voice had a strength to it that surprised Waylen despite the dragon's slender stature. The dragon's grasp of Radian was still very good, but his accent marred his delivery.

“It is granted." The Queen replied, her voice carried just as well, despite her giving no visible effort to shout, and behind him Waylen could hear the dragon shuffle quietly away, but he dared not avert his gaze from the figure ahead of him.

“Welcome, Prince Waylen Sundile, to your new home." The Queen continued with a smile so faint that he found it hard to detect at this distance. She appeared to him as aloof and disinterested.

Her legs were crossed with her body leaned against the arm of her throne with an elbow propped atop the rest. She was dressed in a crisp white tunic and trousers that contrasted against the dark brown of her skin. Over her fabric and leathers, she'd adorned herself with armor, polished guards and pauldrons, and a breastplate molded to the swell of her bust. She was dressed like she was ready to lead an army, and that he could not deny. Even the crown sitting atop her head was forged from steel like it was meant to be a weapon. Shaped to her skull it fit across her forehead like a tiara and locked itself in place around the four jagged horns that sat atop her head, with a single prong jutting skyward from the front like a sword raised to strike.

At her side and leaned against her throne was a large sword, fully drawn and absent of its sheath. Waylen had never seen a weapon of that size before. He hazarded to guess it may have reached his shoulders if stood on its end. He ignored it and refocused himself firmly on the Queen.

“I thank you, Your Majesty. I am proud to be the first of my family to make this journey." He replied with a bow before noticing her smile creep a little more broadly across her features, but in her eyes, she looked… bored. She seemed indifferent to his arrival, and he found it off putting. Her daughters were all standing straight and formal, rigid, as they watched him silently from their posts.

“Not the first from Radiah, but the first of your father's sire." She replied, and Waylen nodded. True, that was a foolish error to make, prompting him to bite his tongue as punishment. His father might not have seen Anya Sur in person, but his grandfather had before him.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I am grateful for the opportunity granted for me to participate in the Festival of Founding. I hope that while I am here, that I am able to learn as much as I am able." He replied to in earnest.

“Your presence is welcomed, but I was only aware that you had come to stand with me as a guest of honor for the Festival. If our greatest celebration is not enough to satisfy you, then what is it that you intend to gain?" She asked him then, her smile fading as she spoke until it was gone. Her eyes no longer looked bored, they were locked onto him now with intent, and he swore he could feel it, like her eyes had turned hot enough to bore through the thickest of steel.

How would he answer her? Both his mother and father had their own expectations of him, their desires, their designs, all competing in his mind for his favor. Did he have an answer to give Her Majesty that could be both truthful, but also not betray his parents? He had to consider his words carefully. It had been impressed upon him to soak up whatever he could, so he could learn their histories, their customs, their language, and most importantly… the full extent of their military power. None of that was something he could tactfully reveal without drawing unwanted suspicion.

But… He knew it was possible that he could spend a few months, or possibly even longer here in the desert. There was much he could learn that he simply couldn't in Radiah no matter how long he kept to the library. There simply wasn't enough literature about the Silver Sea in Ilian, and none of his tutors or even his father had enough experience with the dragons to have much knowledge to impart. The very fact that he'd been sent so ill prepared was a testament to that. If it were not for the Treaty there would be little keeping their two kingdoms tethered to one another.

Thinking harder still, knowing that despite the desert being so barren and dry, there was so much he could learn that he may as well be a sponge cast into the sea. There was likely too much for him to soak up when the time he had counted only a few months at most. He'd need six months, no, a year or more to truly grasp what was here! In the end, perhaps it didn't matter what direction he chose to move in.

He wasn't the only piece on the board, but every piece in view was the same color. The dragons were his allies, and he was their guest. This afforded him freedom to move about as he needed without fear of barriers. He could start by placating his father, reviewing how Her Majesty trained her troops, and possibly even surmising just how large her army was. He couldn't reveal this openly, but he could play the role of the piece on the board that could move about…

“I am unfettered, Your Majesty. For as long as I am your guest I hope to see as much as I am allowed of your people. I am young and know very little of Anya Sur. When I return home, I wish to show my father that his son has grown both older and wiser." He answered her, keeping himself vague as to cast a wide net. The Queen's gaze shifted. He felt her eyes lower and rise again as she looked him up and down, studying him intently for several long moments, and the entire time he held his eyes on hers. He felt as hot now as he had outside beneath the desert sun.

She uncrossed her legs and righted herself in her seat, adjusting her posture until her hands were clasped in front of her. Her body language looked stiff, but thoughtful. She broke her grip and lifted a hand, then gestured to her right side with a finger, which was Waylen's left.

“This is my eldest daughter Vienna Fah Ro'Un, and heir to my throne." The Queen stated plainly. The two dragons that stood to her right stiffened, but the taller of the two bow her head to Waylen, revealing her to be the daughter Her Majesty had just introduced.

Vienna's skin was nearly the same hue as her mother's, though a little darker in the face. Her complexion stood out more as she was dressed near identically to her mother in a white tunic and trousers with armor of equal polish. The other dragon standing at Vienna's side; however, was a hair shorter, slender of build, and ghostly pale. It looked like snow had fallen across her skin and refused to melt. Both her and the female standing on the opposite side of their mother was dressed into fine livery of silks and cottons, though the lone daughter at her mother's left wore a face the same shade of brown as her mother. All four of them had the same greyish white hair that'd he'd seen on the head of every other dragon he'd come across.

Despite the differences in their skin tones, he felt he could detect the family resemblance, if only just barely. The features of dragons were foreign and difficult to read.

Her Majesty then snapped her fingers sharply.

“Welcome, Prince Waylen." All three of her daughters spoke at the same time, in an almost eerie manner, which then followed by another snap of the Queen's fingers.

“Prince Waylen." Vienna spoke on her own before bowed her head to him again.

“As the heir to my mother's throne, it is an honor to have an opportunity to make your acquaintance. It is my hope that whatever bond is forged by your time spent here that it leads to a long and lasting peace that will reach to the end of my mother's time and all throughout my own. As my mother has had the pleasure of seeing your royal lineage pass its crown across generations I, too, hope to witness the same." She told him, her voice courtly, firm, but not masculine. Both her voice and her mother's had feminine notes, but the Queen had a strength in her tone that he was not accustomed to hearing paired with a woman's voice. Vienna shared a bit of that, yes, but it was not as potent, she seemed the more feminine of the two despite her armor.

It became clear that the princess had nothing more to say when she crossed her arm tightly over her chest and bowed neatly to him. Waylen returned her bow with a formal one of his own.

“These are Iolla Fah Ro'Un and Orrae Fah Ro'Un, the second and third of my children." The Queen introduced the other two with her uplifted hand tipping a finger in the respective directions of the daughters whose names she spoke. Orrae was the youngest and stood alone to her mother's left side while the pale Iolla stood next to her sister Vienna. Good, names to faces, and it was fortunate that their skin colors held enough contrast between them to make it impossible for Waylen to mistake a face in the future.

“We welcome you, Prince Waylen." Both women spoke. Waylen waited for a speech from one or both of them, but none came. Instead, the Queen put her hands down on the arms of her throne and shoved herself upright, and she was very tall! He tried to maintain his composure as he sized her up just as she had him, and Her Majesty was clearly taller than all of her daughters and every dragon he'd seen so far!

With a careful stride she stepped away from her throne and down the steps until she was on Waylen's level.

It was alarming how tall she was revealed to be as she approached him, Her Majesty towering over him by almost two feet. Nearly all the dragons he'd met so far had been taller than him, many by inches and a few by as much as a foot. Had there been others taller than that, then his perch atop a camel had hidden it from his notice. He felt a chill he couldn't suppress as she closed the gap between them with each step she took. The closer she got the taller she became until he felt the strain on the back of his neck from looking up at her. When she came to a stop there was a gap left between them of only a foot or so, forcing him to stare up at her uncomfortably.

Her eyes were a burning, almost glittering crimson hue. It was as if tiny crystals of fire were hidden deep within the red of her eyes. At this range he saw her hair was clean and fine. Her rack of horns was polished and almost gleamed in the light like gold, but one of them had a broken tip, a scar of battles long past. She was staring at him silently with her eyes boring into his. Was she expecting him to do something, or to say something?

She was not extending her hand to him, so there was none offered for him to plant a kiss, or to take into his own for a firm shake. Was there a custom here in the desert that he was ignorant of? If he was the guest, was he to extend his own hand first in greeting? Was she waiting for him? He hesitated with uncertainty, then lifted his hand to offer it to her.

“You are the youngest of your line, are you not?" She asked him, ignoring his outstretched hand, which he held there for only a moment longer before awkwardly returning it to his side in embarrassment. He'd assumed wrong, biting the side of his tongue again as punishment.

To her question, he first thought of his mother, of the tone of voice she'd use with him when speaking. Even though Her Majesty had asked her question calmly her voice had sounded both powerful and feminine at once. His mother's voice did not possess the same power in her own voice when she spoke, but the way that Her Majesty made Waylen feel like a wilting flower reminded him too much of his mother. He felt like he was standing before both his parents, the withering gaze of his mother alongside the intimidating strength of his father.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Third in line to my father's throne." He answered.

“Then Radiah would not be losing much if you failed to return?" She asked. Waylen felt himself freeze, caught in a moment of panic, of the implications. Why would he not return to Radiah? Was she purposely threatening him? A challenge, perhaps, or was he letting her intimidate him into making more mistakes?

Her gaze was unfaltering, and even though he hated it, Waylen had to calm himself. He drew in a patient breath and let it out softly, hoping she would not notice the exercise any more than necessary. He was not going to assume anything of her intentions, as she was his ally. Would Radiah be losing much if he failed to return home?

No.

When the time came, it would not be Waylen Sundile who was crowned king in his father's place. It would be his eldest brother, Nyle. What was in store for Waylen was that his mother would arrange to have him marry a noblewoman as part of a political scheme. His mother had many such schemes. The Kingdom of Radiah would not lose a prince should he fail to return, but rather it would be his mother losing an asset she had hoped to exploit.

“They would lose a valuable pawn in my father's royal court." He replied without giving any breath to his mother. As the Queen listened her gaze hardened down at him, and the heat he felt only seemed to grow. He couldn't tell if the heat of her gaze was real or imagined, but the sweat he felt creeping back upon his brow was real enough to convince him that the glint in her eyes might just be a real flame.

“Which is it, then? Do you come to me a prince wishing to see my Festival of Founding, or are you just a pawn in service to your King?" She asked him, her voice growing coarse. A bead of sweat began to roll down his temple.

“I am both, Your Majesty." He replied, knowing that there was little else to say. He couldn't read her expression at all; he had no way of knowing what she was thinking. All he knew was the heat of her gaze felt like he was smoldering, but he held himself painfully still as she let her eyes linger over him in silence.

“Is that so?" She finally asked.

So much for having a tongue sharp enough to cut! He was right from the beginning, there were too many variables, no way for him to know what the Queen would say to him. Not a single thing that he had in mind to say was given a chance to meet the open air. In the presence of Her Majesty she controlled the dialogue, as was her right. When he'd thought that he'd have much to learn, he didn't think he'd start by learning he wasn't as much of a prince as he'd been led to believe. The Queen had parading her finest soldiers in front of him, no doubt expending great effort in this show of force. He'd felt like a prince, a member of royalty, riding into Anya Sur and her open arms.

More like he was a pawn, not just of his parents, but also of Her Majesty. From the moment he saddled up on a camel to the final step that set him upon this steel dais, he was doing as the Queen commanded. Perhaps that's what he needed to learn… Now there's a direction in which his tongue could cut!

“I believe that when I return to Radiah, I will be less a pawn and more a prince." He replied, then produced a smile for Her Majesty.

“If the dragons of the Silver Sea are as fearsome as I have been told; Your Majesty, I should become quite formidable if I am diligent in my studies."

After a small moment her eyes seemed to flicker.

“See to it that you are, pawn that may be a prince. I am eager to see if you can measure up to your own ambition, and to my new expectations." She told him before crossing her arms behind her back. He began to fear that perhaps he'd been too clever for his own good, his heart racing within his chest like he'd just felt the feathers of an arrow brush past his ear.

“Yes, Your Majesty." He replied and bowed his head. She turned on her heel and began to make her way back to her throne. Waylen lifted his head and watched her walk away. Her tail trailed behind her gracefully whilst hovering just above the marble floor.

She took her seat back on the throne by the time she'd finished crossing her legs once again she looked just as she had when he'd first set eyes upon her.

“See the Prince to his quarters." She said loudly, then nodded curtly to Waylen while her daughters each took it as their que to bow gracefully to him. Once done, the Queen said several more things in Atinan that he couldn't understand. Two dragons in armor appeared at his sides, surprising him, before they directed him back the way he came where Landon and Richard were no doubt anxiously awaiting his return.

When Waylen made his exit from the throne room, Landon and Richard both stepped forward to greet him silently as the doors were shut behind him. He relaxed himself, but not by much. The dragons that had escorted him here were still at their posts against the walls, and he did not want to risk showing any weakness. No, Waylen would not rest even though he desperately wanted to.

The dragons that stood with their backs to the walls all stepped forwarded and assumed positions around Waylen and his own two guards. Down the hallway ahead of them there was another dragon approaching. Obviously female, and clad in an ivory dress as fine as what he'd seen the Princesses Iolla and Orrae wear, she was the first of her kind that Waylen had seen. Her skin was like someone had stolen the color blue right from the sky and painted her head to toe in it, and her face was framed by long locks of the same familiar pale gray hair that all dragons wore.

The closer she got the more it became clear that she was even taller than the Queen! Could he not be given a single moment's rest? Her features came more into focus as she approached, and Waylen patiently waited for her arrival, studying her as she stepped with an easy grace. Even though her dress covered every inch of her body save for her head, hands, and tail, but it was clear that whatever God had created dragons had blessed this one in particular. They way the fabric hugged her figure told him enough about her hips and bust that he knew to avert his gaze from both. Waylen didn't know if her choice of outfit was a feminine ploy to intimidating him, so he made sure to keep his eyes trained well onto her own.

When she finally drew near, the dragons that surrounded Waylen all turned and bowed their heads in submission to the newcomer. Was this dragon some member of nobility? When she came to a stop before him, Waylen was certain it was a smile she wore, though it was so subtle as to be coy.

“Prince Waylen." She spoke softly, voice deep and feminine. The accent of the desert was clear in her voice with only the two words having been spoken. She nodded her head and bowed to him in a delicate curtsy, the first of its kind that he'd seen in Anya Sur. There was a well-trained grace in her every movement, something he hadn't seen before in any of the dragons he'd encountered so far.

He nodded in reply to her, offering a careful bow of his own to return the gesture of her curtsy. He felt conflicted, as a noblewoman would have commanded enough respect to make all these soldiers bow to her, but she was also clearly behaving subservient to him. There was no way to gauge her true station in the hierarchy of the city, but he surmised she must have been of someone important, especially if she was going around dressed as finely as the royal family.

“That I am, and who might you be?" He replied, offering her an honest question rather than risking any more mistakes by assuming too much of anything. She rose up to her full height, staggering as it was. He kept his eyes locked onto hers, seeing that they were a bright cerulean blue, as striking a color as the Queen's had been, but without the withering heat that came with it.

They were beautiful eyes, soft, and kind, though such things could be faked as he'd learned from his mother. Now that he was to live with these dragons, he sincerely hoped he could learn to read at least one of their features accurately, and right now it seemed like maybe it would be the eyes. The rest of their faces may have looked strange and foreign, but eyes were still windows into the soul.

“I am Eldest Thalla Fah Kah'Seh, Advisor to Her Majesty Yvvie Fah Ro'Sah. It would be my pleasure to escort you to your chambers and introduce you to your new home." She told him, introducing herself with a light touch of a hand to her ample chest. Her grasp of Radian was far too fluent and were it not for her accent he would not have known she hadn't been born speaking it.

At least he knew her station now. He didn't know what sort of authority an advisor to Her Majesty could wield, but it was clear that she commanded submission from those around her. She was still being particularly gracious to him, so he could at least trust that his own status as royalty commanded some measure of respect from her. Also, if she was an advisor to the Queen, then he assumed this was all an attempt to intimidate him. Any servant or guard could have walked him to his chambers, but instead Her Majesty sent one of her advisors.

He nodded graciously to her in reply and extended his hand as a gesture for her to lead the way to his chambers. After all that he'd been through so far, he was grateful for the chance to retreat behind closed doors that he could call his own and be given a reprieve from everything to do with these dragons.

“I am eager to see what awaits me, Eldest Thalla Fah Kah'Seh." He repeated her name, wagering that 'eldest' was a form of title similar to that of duke or duchess.

The dragon nodded and turned herself to lead the way. When he made to follow her his two companions fell in behind him with the other dragons lagging further behind the trio to form a small ensemble cast as they left the throne room further behind them.

Ahead of him, the dragon was covering a lot of ground. With her height came long legs, and each footstep she took left her moving quickly through the halls with the ache in his calves returning as he tried to keep up with her. Despite her moving quickly, each step she took was light, measured, sure. He wondered if all their nobility were as refined as this or was this just a single gem gleaming out from within the pale desert sands. Being behind her gave him opportunity to study her without her knowing, and he saw the grace with which she moved. It spoke volumes how well she'd been trained in performing for the court, as he'd seen it himself every time his mother or father held any sort of courtly affair in the castle. Men and women of status must carry themselves accordingly, and this notion clearly traveled its way to Anya Sur. Nearly everyone he'd encountered so far had either been soldier or servant, so this 'Eldest' was the first true noblewoman he'd met so far, and he wondered now how many more he would meet and if they would be any the same.

She kept her hands in front of her, presumably clasped delicately over her stomach given the way she held her arms at her side. Her tail swayed gracefully behind her, which was such an odd thing to see. People were not supposed to have tails, or snouts, or horns. How would you even go about your daily matters with something so long and thick swinging behind you? Would you not slap and bump into all manner of things like a dog's wagging tail?

Several minutes of walking later and she finally stopped, leaving his calves aching hotly from the pace he'd taken to keep up with her, like she was making sure he and his guards understood the difference between man and dragon, tail and all. She pivoted on her heel, nodding to him then, before casting out her hand in a wide motion for Waylen to step ahead of her, and he did so. They now stood at the end of a hallway just before a junction that led both to the left and right.

“Around this corner will be your and your servants' quarters, Your Highness." She told him and gestured for him to carry on.

He followed her guidance, stepping forward where she directed and finding the next hallway filled with four well-armed and armored soldiers, dragons all, split into pairs guarding two separate doorways. Eldest Thalla stepped up to Waylen's side.

“Your chambers are the door to your left, Your Highness, and your guards and male servants have been housed in the room to the right. These soldiers standing watch by the doors are a small part of the guard Queen Yvvie has granted to you. There is no safer place in all of Atina Nah than here, or by the Queen's own side."

He nodded, turning then to the tall female.

“Atina Nah?" He asked, having never heard that before. She replied politely.

“The Silver Sea, Your Highness, as we say it in Atinan." She explained. He smiled back, committing the words to memory for later. He was surprised he'd not seen it written that way in Radiah, but apart from the treaty there was little written down in the native language of the desert.

“Thank you, Eldest Thalla. Have the rest of my servants and guard made themselves at home?" He asked, trusting that she knew his language well enough to compete with him in conversation.

She nodded and began to walk again, the four dragons posted by the twin doorways snapping to attention with one leaning out to grab the handle of the door on the left, opening it for the Eldest without being asked. Once the doorway opened Waylen began to hear familiar voices chattering away inside. Eldest Thalla stepped into the room, but not before gracefully ducking her head beneath the doorframe.

Waylen followed, noting to himself that the door stood out from all the others in the fortress. Every door he'd seen so far was wooden, and no doubt sourced from Radiah's forests, but the door to his chambers looked no different than what he'd have expected to see swinging in the doorframe of his own bedroom at home. Beyond the doorway was a drawing room, the first of many rooms that would make up his new chambers, and it was filled with the noise of bustling activity.

He spotted Marissa in the far corner next to a fireplace, the older woman guiding the rest of his servants into action as they moved parcels and luggage about with care. Around them he looked, seeing the floors were not stonework as the rest of the fortress was built, but rather made of wooden planks, polished to a shine, and so were the walls! The ceilings even bore the trademark style of Radian craftsmanship.

He stepped further into the room, finding all manner of wooden furniture no different than what he'd have found in the castle back home. There was a writing desk in the corner, a breakfast table and chairs in the center, more seating, bookshelves with stock. Everything felt quite as it should for a room that was Radian. When Marissa saw that he'd arrived she hurried across the room before bowing to him.

“My Lord, welcome! We're very nearly ready with your chambers. The men should be in the other room preparing it for them, as well." She told him with a smile, and he noticed the look of relief she wore on her face. From behind him Eldest Thalla spoke, drawing his attention back to her.

“Prince Waylen, you will find that these rooms were built as if stolen right from Castle Ilian. Everything here was brought from your homeland so that all guests from Radiah would feel welcomed, a second home to you within the walls of Anya Sur." The dragon explained, stepping around him towards the breakfast table, her hand reaching low to run her fingertips across its polished surface. Much if not all of the visible furniture here was not sized for someone as tall as Eldest Thalla, but rather for the men and women of Radiah. The dragon dwarfed the chair next to her.

The disparity in décor between this room and everything else he'd seen in the fortress was incredible. To recreate Radiah here must have taken an incredible amount of time and resources.

“I will have to thank the Queen for her effort, Eldest Thalla." He replied. She smiled back.

“It is King Myunn that extended this courtesy, Your Highness, but the Queen will gladly accept it in his stead. Now, if I may, I wish to introduce you to the Captain of your guard." She replied then with another of her careful nods. Waylen turned and spotted Captain Landon standing near the doorway, who was trying to hide his confusion.

Thalla turned herself toward the doorway and said something loudly in her own tongue. A dragon guarding the doorway stepped into view and gave a curt reply before leaving.

“The Queen saw fit to give you thirteen of our finest soldiers. They will offer you protection alongside your own guard." She explained, and out in the hallway Waylen overheard more of the foreign language being spoken. Soon a new face entered, this one a female in armor with short white hair and skin like warm rust.

She stepped inside, Landon and Richard giving her a wide berth as she walked past them both. The dragon bowed to Thalla, holding her arm tightly over her chest. Thalla gestured with her hand and the other dragon stood herself erect and presented herself to Waylen. She was taller than Waylen, but nowhere near so as to compete with the Eldest, or even Her Majesty. He'd seen men as tall as her on the castle grounds.

“Norra Fah Tah'Yah will be the Captain of the guards Her Majesty has given you. She, and these twelve others, will serve you until you return to Radiah, Your Highness." Thalla then said before turning to look at the other woman who tightened her salute and gave Waylen a curt nod, her expression stiff.

“Your Highness, it is an honor to serve you." The new face spoke at last, her grasp of Radian seemed almost fragile, her words thick with the accent of the desert but not enough to prevent his understanding. He was left wondering how many dragons actually spoke his language, and how difficult it would be to interact with them if he had no one to translate.

He nodded to her, taking note that he would need to learn much more than just the words 'Atina Nah' if he wanted to live here for many months.

“I welcome you into my service, Captain Norra Fah Tah'Yah. May you serve me well." He replied, and the dragon noticeably stiffened, nodding to him again before lowering her arm from her chest and clasping it firmly behind her back with the other.

“Return to your duties, Captain Norra." Eldest Thalla told the dragon in Radian before saying something else to her in Atinan. The other dragon nodded quickly in reply, taking one step backwards before pivoting to leave.

“Everything you've brought with you has been moved to your chambers, but there is much work left to be done by your servants, I am certain. The Queen has advised that you spend two days resting, as your journey was a long and arduous one." She told him then.

“Thank you, Eldest Thalla. The Queen's kindness is very welcomed, and I will have to thank her for it when next we meet." He replied.

“As you will, Your Highness." She said before adding, “It is also by the Queen's judgement that I will be personally responsible for your care and wellbeing during your stay. Should there be anything that you need during your time here, simply ask and I will make it so, Prince Waylen. Any of Captain Norra's guards posted outside can be used as a courier to convey to me any message that you might have."

“Thank you, Eldest Thalla, truly. I cannot express enough the gratitude that I have, and I do hope that before I take my leave of Anya Sur that I will have found a way to do so." He told the dragon earnestly, and she smiled broadly before bowing to him, falling gracefully into another curtsy.

“I must take my leave of you now, Your Highness, to attend to other matters. I wish you a well-deserved rest." She rose upright, finishing with a nod before taking a careful step back.

“Farewell, and I thank you for your care, Eldest Thalla." He replied, and she carefully pivoted on her heel before exiting the room, a dragon outside shutting it behind her as soon as her tail slipped beyond the doorway.

Once the door was shut, the only people left in the room were the men and women of Radiah, and not one dragon in sight. Captain Landon approached him.

“You have two Captains now, My Lord?" He replied, a wry smile on his face.

“Seems so, and one a woman no less." He replied, leaving the other man to chuckle. There were so many women in armor here. There were old stories and folktales of women waging war, fantasies and fiction all, but in Radiah women did not wear swords, or in any other kingdom be they friend or foe, that he knew of. The desert of Atina Nah was truly a unique place.

Marissa then caught his attention.

“Your chambers are so lovely, Waylen! You should see your bedroom! And we even have a kitchen with our own stoves! A room for myself and girls is right in the corner, and we have our own pantry!" She sounded so excited that it made him smile for her.

Waylen pivoted his gaze around his chambers, seeing only the drawing room in which they stood, cozy and warm with its rich woods and familiar furniture with doors leading to others at either side of the room they were in. The only part of the construction that stood out were the windows, as the windowsills and frames were still made of carved stonework.

“They've worked very hard at making these rooms look like home." He said aloud.

Between the many windows looking outside there were a pair of wooden doors on the opposite wall from the doorway leading back to the hall. He started walking towards them while Marissa followed along behind him.

“Oh, yes, and we have a balcony, My Lord!" Marissa told him as he reached the doors. He grabbed the handles and pushed them open with some effort, feeling the wave of heat hit him as soon as the first ray of light spilt from the crack. The bright light of the sun nearly blinded him, his eyes having long since adjusted to the soft light of the Keep and its many lanterns.

Blinking away the glare of real sunlight, he saw that his new balcony was carved right from the rock of Anya Sur, appearing no differently on the outside than anywhere else in the fortress where a balcony might have been. He stepped out into the sun, finding a stone table in the center of the wide space. To his right was a fireplace which was set into the wall with several small stools set all around it. There were potted plants and small shrubs decorating his domain, and he dared not asked the effort it took to keep plants from wilting when they were so far from water.

Beyond the balcony was the city below. He was so high up that to fall from here would be certain death, but the view was brilliant! Putting his hands on the ledge he looked out across the city, a great lake oasis was in the distance, and all around them was the city itself, with thousands of stonework buildings plain to see, the great and impregnable walls looming high beyond them. He spotted the roadway they'd used on their approach to the fortress and traced it back to the gate they'd used to enter the city. He could see so much of Anya Sur from here that he regretted that he'd only seen it as an empty husk when he'd first arrived.

Though his legs ached, and his body and mind both crying out for a moment's rest, he couldn't stifle his desire to see more of this city of dragons, this beating heart of Atina Nah. Though he was no longer a little boy, he felt as one now. With the Queen's withering gaze far behind him his curiosity was returning, like that of a child's. The prospect of exploring such a city left him feeling a sense of adventure he hadn't felt since he was very little. Waylen sighed, knowing that it couldn't last. He was not here to play as a child exploring new hallways and rooms in his father's castle. He was here as a prince whose only purpose was to fulfill the duties his parent's had set upon him.

What he wanted mattered little.