“I really don’t understand why we have to attend these pointless meetings.” Cairo grumbled, fussing with the buttons on his tan leather jacket. The hallway leading to the council room was quite boring; the occasional tapestry or vase bringing a small amount of life into the otherwise dead stone walls.

Nothing ever went his way during the council meetings; he always managed to embarrass himself by saying something unbecoming of his rank. It seemed like he always earned one of the sharp, cold glares from his father that he dreaded being on the receiving end of.

“I believe things would be better for you if you would simply observe the elders, instead of attempt to speak when it is not your place to.” Cairo’s sister, Vivian replied with only a quick glance in his direction before returning her gaze to the large doors ahead. “Being present at these gatherings is a privilege. We are only here to be seen, not heard.” She continued; hands clasped together behind her back.

“It’s hard to do so when they always have stupid ideas.” He quipped, crossing his arms with a dramatic sigh. Vivian only raised an eyebrow in his direction before shaking her head slightly.

His sister had always been perfect in their parents' eyes. The youngest child, it seems, tends to be the favorite amongst most families. She never raised her voice, never spoke out of line, and never disrespected her elders. Had the rules not dictated that the heir must be male, Vivian would certainly be the next heir to the throne over him.

Cairo stopped just short of the towering doors before him, dreading the upcoming experience. How was he supposed to sit in silence? When the councilmen declare outrageous ideas, such as going to war with their neighboring kingdom because they refuse to stop hunting in Kalan’s territory. The councilmen are aware that Yoros is suffering a famine currently, due to the horrific drought plaguing their farmland; aware that the kingdom of Yoros is relying on hunting to feed its people while the crops cannot grow, they just do not care.

The guards posted at the doors to the council room bowed to Cairo and his sister before opening the doors so that they may enter. The large double doors stood over three times Cairo’s height. He had never understood the reason to build such large doors; a waste of wood, in his opinion. The doors began to open, and he was interrupted from his thoughts by Vivan tapping him on the arm gently.

“Just sit quietly and Father will have no reason to punish you again for disrespecting the elders. It’s not that difficult.” She said quietly to him, the tone of her voice hinted that she was mocking him. He looked over to see her wearing a sly smile across her face, silently bragging that she was better than him.

He opened his mouth to say something that would wipe the smirk off her face, but the doors had already opened far enough for the entire council to be in earshot. He begrudgingly held his tongue; he would rather not be strung up for something he said before he even entered the council room. With a sigh, he continued walking forward.

The five councilmen stood up when they entered the room, lowering their heads in respect, before all of them, rather synchronized said, “Your Graces”. Cairo didn’t understand the display of respect when these were the same people who had him punished countless times for speaking out against them. He found it ironic. He knew they only respected him because he was a Prince. Because they had to.

Cairo and Vivan lowered their heads toward the large round table in the center of the room. “It is an honor to have been invited, my lords” he said politely, feigning a slight smile. Regardless of his feelings toward the Councilmen, he had to at least pretend to be polite.

They both moved to take their seats beside the King of Kalan, Cairo sat to the right of their father, and Vivian sat to the left, smoothing her lilac dress with one hand as she positioned herself to ensure her posture remained perfect. She shot a quick glare at Cairo, silently warning him to not cause a scene as he usually did; he ignored her, he had planned to exercise restraint this time.

The council room was in the East wing of the Palace, irritatingly far from Cairo’s bedroom in the West wing; it took him nearly an eternity to arrive at the Council. The rooms' many windows faced the vastness of the kingdom's Emerald Garden, which seemed to stretch for miles. Its tall hedges encased the sea of flowers within. Hundreds of different colors intermingled with each other expanded endlessly into the distance.

Cairo believed the garden to be too large to explore completely in a lifetime; there was far too much to see. Vivian adored the Emerald Garden, always beneath the shade of an elm tree practicing her Violin or reading a book. Cairo found the garden overwhelming, the assault of colors on his eyes caused him to avoid it. He didn’t understand his sister’s fascination with plants, they were fragile and weak, not even able to survive through the rather warm winters in Kalan.

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“Now that we are all in attendance, we may begin.” His father said, face stoic. Cairo was never able to see his father's emotions. Trying to read him was like trying to read a book written in a different language.

“Your Grace, I come with troubling news from Ranon.” The Lord of Ranon, Varesh Inja spoke first. His pale skin seemed to almost blend in with his white robes. “The battle with Yoros has resulted in many casualties. They seem to be growing evermore angry at our attempts to keep them out.”

He stood up and pointed a finger on the map of the kingdom engraved into the wooden table. His finger landed on the Northern border of Kalan, parallel to the Southern border of Yoros; dangerously close to the Capital City of Ranon. Cairo tilted his head slightly. The land was not within the kingdom's hunting grounds.

“How many casualties?” The king spoke, clasping his hands together on the table.

“Fifteen hundred, Your Grace.” Lord Inja said, looking down at the parchment before him to confirm. “I believe they are planning to capture the capital. The city of Reav was lost yesterday.” He moved his hand slightly to the left, settling on a small indent on the map. Reav was a small mining city just north of Ranon, nestled against the Thundered Mountains to the East.

“I will order three thousand of my men to join your forces.” The king looked over to his advisor, who nodded before grabbing a piece of parchment to write on. “See to it that my city is freed from Yoros.” He finished, grabbing his golden goblet of wine.

“Your Grace,” Lord Inja began, “Surely the simple mining town of Reav is not worth more than thousands of lives-”

“Reav is home to two thousand citizens.” His father interjected, setting his cup down. “I will not sit idly while my people are held prisoner in their own land.” He continued; his face unchanging as he looked at Lord Inja. “It is a soldier's duty to fight for those who cannot. My people will be freed.” He said, “The closer Yoros is to Ranon, the more likely they are to attempt a siege on one of the largest capital cities in Kalan. I will not have it.” He concluded, still staring at the Lord in white.

After a moment, Lord Inja spoke “Of course my lord. Ranon will do everything in its power to reclaim control of Reav.”

“Very well,” The King moved on, “are there any more urgent matters that we must discuss, or may they wait until next month?” A subtle hint of irritation was in his voice, the King did not appreciate his judgement being questioned.

“Your Grace, if I may,” A Lord dressed in dark red robes spoke up, attention turned to him. “I have received rather ridiculous, yet concerning messages from my people in Nokove,” he continued, standing up to point at a small city in the Southeast corner of Kalan; he was the Lord of Ganoe, Mikah Avriel.

“Ridiculous?” The King questioned; it was uncommon for Lords to claim their concerns as ridiculous. Cairo stared blankly into the map, wondering when this session of torture might end; he felt that he may be bored to sleep before long.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Lord Avriel paused, reading his parchment as if even he was still attempting to understand it. “The people speak of Dragons.” He said finally, Cairos' mind was pulled back into attention at this statement.

The king paused for a moment, raising his eyebrow. “Dragons?”

“I have received letters that talk of the people seeing dragons flying high in the Thundered Mountains.” The Lord himself did not even seem fully convinced of what he was reporting. “I would not have brought it to your attention,” the Lord looked down, a look of concern beginning to appear on his face, “But these sightings have been happening for two months. I receive letters every week.”

Before Cairo could remind himself to keep his mouth shut, he found himself speaking, “But there are no more dragons. They were all hunted to extinction to prevent men from enslaving them to fight in another war.” He said, “Perhaps they just saw a large bird-”

“Cairo.” His father warned, and he remembered he was speaking out of turn; he quieted himself, lowering his head in submission.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Lord Avriel’s voice was laced with annoyance as he addressed Cairo, “I am aware that dragons are extinct, which is why I hesitated to bring this to Council.” He continued, redirecting his attention back to the King. “I have sent scouts to survey the mountains.”

“And?” The King said, taking another sip of wine.

“They have found scorch marks on the lower peak of Mount Ganos.” he said, looking back down at his parchment, apparently still in disbelief. “The vegetation had been burned away recently, the pattern spreading out in a triangular shape.” Cairo tried to think of possible explanations for this phenomenon, but he found none.

The King sighed, still not convinced by the evidence that a creature extinct for a century had come back from the dead. He gestured once more at his advisor before speaking.

“I will send a scouting team of twenty men, including five scholars to assess the situation.” He said, needing to hear the truth from his own men.

“Of course, Your Grace, thank you.” Lord Avriel bowed his head and rolled his parchment up.

Cairo could not believe that there were people who still believed in dragons. They had been gone for a century, wiped from existence by the people who had befriended them. Cairo shuddered as he remembered the stories of dragons; fierce reptilian beasts with wings, capable of breathing fire or spraying acid on their victims. The wars fought with dragons never left either side feeling victorious, the scorched, bloodied land would never again return green with foliage. It had taken the Flamesmen days to put out the fires in the city, but the land surrounding it would turn into a barren land, devastated by the Dragonfire.

He would often read of these stories in his youth, sneaking out books from the palace library that he should not have been allowed to read. Dragons scared Cairo so bad he wasn't able to sleep some nights, but he was always able to be calmed by the fact that these dreaded creatures did not exist anymore; a fact that he realized he could no longer rely on.