The Mateless Dragon King

Entering the Arc

Flashback - 198 Years Prior

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Valen’s POV

The day of my Trial arrived faster than I anticipated. The sun barely peeked over the horizon as I stood at the entrance to the sacred grove in the center of the citadel.

The air was filled with the earthy scent of moss and the sweet fragrance of flowers. The path leading to the center of the grove was made of flat stones, worn smooth by the passage of countless feet over the centuries. Small, delicate ferns and patches of soft grass grew between the stones, adding to the grove's untamed beauty.

At the heart of the grove lay an intricate circle of runes and symbols, carved into the earth, and laid before a large stone arc: the mystical entrance to the Trials. The runes were ancient, their meanings lost to all but the High Priest himself and the priests and priestesses the Gods had deemed worthy of learning them. The arc was a marvel of craftsmanship and divine artistry. It stood tall, constructed from a rare, luminescent stone that seemed to capture and reflect the essence of the grove.

As I walked down the path toward the arc, a priestess was spreading into the runes a silvery substance that glimmered in the light, making them appear as if they were pulsating with life.

The air was thick with anticipation for the small group of people who were allowed to be present for mine and my cousin’s entry into the Trials.

No one knew what to expect from the Trials, except for the men who had entered and returned, but none of them ever spoke about it. Even the priests and priestesses who had clearance to perform the rites didn’t know what men had to do once inside. From what I was able to get my father, Lorian, and General Thalor to say about the Trials, it seemed as though everyone had a different experience. There was no way to prepare for the Trials, except by being prepared mentally, which I was not.

Today, I would become the youngest man to ever enter the Trials. General Thalor and Lorian, the two men who assisted my father in training me, stood beside me. The pressure was surmounting. But they believed in me, even if I didn’t fully believe in myself.

Mother had wanted to attend, but when I stopped by her chambers this morning to escort her to the carriage that waited to take her from the castle to the citadel, she looked extremely pale. She had dark circles under her eyes and her handmaiden informed me that she had been quite ill the past few days, even sick to her stomach. I refused to allow her to travel in her condition, telling her handmaiden to send her back to bed. I needed my mother to take care of herself.

So instead, I requested the General and Lorian to accompany me at the last minute, as it was tradition for each person who entered the Trials to have close friends, mentors, or family wait for them in the grove until you returned, however long it took. Both men, having been through the Trials themselves, were deeply honored that I chose them to be here with me today.

High Priest Aryn, adorned in white ceremonial robes with runes similar to the ones on the ground embroidered into the hem and sleeves, approached with a solemn expression, his staff tapping rhythmically against the stone path, weaving through the flowers and grass that was allowed to grow around the path, as nature intended them to grow.

"Your Highness," he greeted me with a slight bow of his head, his voice resonating with authority. I responded with a nod of my own, as it was customary for even Princes to show reverence to the high priest, "The time has come for your Trial to begin. But first, we shall perform a ritual to prepare your mind, soul and body for the challenges ahead."

I nodded, my gaze shifting to figures now approaching from down the stone path. Lady Althea, my father's cousin, walked with grace and dignity, her pious nature evident in the way she carried herself.

Her hair was a rich chestnut brown, elegantly styled, with delicate braids interwoven to pull her hair up on top of her head and out of her face. Her attire, though made from rich and luxurious fabrics, was in a modest design, favored by the pious women in the capital city. Over her shoulders, she draped a fine, translucent shawl, woven with silver thread, to ward away the early morning chill in the air.

Beside her was her son, Aric, who must be around twice my age, which was a more appropriate age for someone to enter the Trials. He had long dark hair that framed his strong, stern features, and dark piercing eyes that displayed a shadow of arrogance. He appeared every bit the nobleman’s son: handsome, poised, and composed.

They had arrived at the castle over a week ago, and although it was wonderful to get to know Lady Althea, I couldn’t say the same about her son. There was something about him that irked me the wrong way.

"Lady Althea," I greeted her respectfully.

"Your Highness, Prince Valen," she replied warmly as she nodded her head in respect, her eyes filled with genuine concern when she rose. "I must thank you again, it is an honor that you invited us here. May the Gods watch over you both and guide you both through your Trials, as you fulfil your duty to the kingdom."

Aric stepped forward, offering a sharp nod. "Prince Valen, I look forward to seeing how we both fare in the Trials. May the best man win."

I forced a smile, recognizing the veiled challenge in his words. I could tell he thought of me as a threat, even though I was resigned to following the will of the Gods in the matter of succession, "Indeed, Aric. I also look forward to seeing the Gods' decisions today.”

I turned to Lorian, who smiled warmly. Next, I faced the General, who clapped me on my shoulder, like he always did after a spar. No words were needed at this time, their silent support was enough for me to feel ready.

High Priest Aryn gestured for me to step into the center of the grove, into the center of the circle of runes.

As I moved into position, the High Priest began the ritual, chanting ancient incantations that resonated with power. The surrounding runes glowed, the silvery substance floating out of them, enveloping my body. I felt a surge of energy course through me.

"By the will of the Gods," Aryn intoned, lifting his staff high. "May this man be blessed with strength, wisdom, and courage. Let his heart be pure, his mind sharp, and his spirit unyielding."

With a final flourish, the silvery substance swirled around me before settling on my skin and clothes, leaving me feeling invigorated.

"Prince Valen," the High Priest addressed me, "Your Trial shall now commence. You will face tests of strength, intellect, and leadership that will determine if you will be deemed worthy of the throne by the Gods. You may now enter the arc.”

I turned around to face the arc, which was now glowing a deep iridescent blue, speckled with flecks of gold and silver that sparkled like the stars in the night sky.

As I approached, the arc began to glow with an otherworldly light, the carvings coming to life with a soft, ethereal radiance. The light emanated from within the stone, casting a gentle, serene glow that illuminated the surrounding area. It was both inviting and daunting.

The space within the arc seemed to shimmer, the air vibrating with power. The very fabric of reality was thinner here, a gateway to realms unknown.

I stepped forward, holding my breath, resolved not to look back.