The Mateless Dragon King

The Trials-Part I

Flashback - 198 Years Prior

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Valen’s POV

My eyes opened and stared right into familiar stern blue eyes: my father's eyes.

“Valen, did you hear what I said? You can’t keep zoning out like that when I am speaking if you wish to become king."

I shook my head slightly, trying to clear the fog from my mind before looking around. My father and I stood in the council chamber, looking over the map on the table. The decorations in the room looked more like they did ten years ago rather than how they looked when I was there only a couple of days ago.

"Father, I... I don't understand,” I was having a hard time figuring out what was going on, “You’re back?”

My father stared at me, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been here this whole time.”

I frowned and looked around again, still confused.

“Well, let’s do this again. Point to each municipality, recite the name, the current alderman or lord, what their people are known for, and their tax status.” This was a common exercise my father made me do during training. A king had to know his people.

I pointed to each one and recited everything he asked for, easily. Although there was a time when this exercise proved difficult. His brow furrowed deeper as I continued on.

“How could you be so stupid, Valen? You got half the aldermen and tax statuses wrong!” I looked up at him, surprised. Father was stern, but never spoke to me like that: he was always a fair man. Plus, I knew I didn't get any of them wrong. I have been acting as Regent for the last two months.

As he listed off the 'correct' answers to his test, I realized his answers would have been correct ten years ago, but not now.

My mind finally figured out what was going on. This is the Trials, and this setting must be created from a memory. But now what? It seemed like a waste of a mystical arc to have my Trial just be reciting municipality names to my father like I used to every week during kingcraft training.

“Come Valen, you have training with General Thalor now. Maybe sword fighting is something you can’t mess up.” I didn’t like the Trial's version of my father, but I went along with it anyway.

I followed Father through the winding halls of the castle, my mind racing. I never thought the Trials would feel so real. So real, I was questioning what was reality and what was a manifestation of the Trial. Or was this all just a dream and I would wake up and find my Father safe at home?

We arrived at the training grounds, where General Thalor awaited, sword in hand. We took our places and I reached for my own sword, not finding it strapped to my back like it usually was.

“Valen, go grab your training sword,” my father’s disapproving voice shouted at me. My face twisted in frustration. The General and I always spar with real swords. I hadn't used a training sword against him in over ten years. But I went along with it, and went to grab one off a nearby rack, twirling it with a flourish into position, showing off my coordination and control, once I was facing General Thalor.

"Begin," Thalor commanded, his voice echoing in the open courtyard.

I moved through the familiar forms, my muscles remembering the drills. It felt good to allow my mind to turn off and allow my body to take over.

"Your stance is too wide, Valen. Keep your guard up! You're leaving your left side exposed!" My father's voice cut through the air, each word distracting me more from my form, causing me to make more mistakes for him to point out.

Despite the harsh criticism, I pushed through the session, my determination fueled by frustration. When training finally ended, I was exhausted, both physically and mentally.

"Perhaps sword fighting isn't your strength after all," my father remarked coldly as we started to make our way to the great hall. I clenched my fists, biting back a retort. I am a master of the longsword and General Thalor’s best student.

Dinner was a somber affair, the grand table laden with food that I barely touched. Mother joined us, her usual warmth replaced by an uncharacteristic coldness.

"Valen, we need to talk," she said, her voice devoid of its usual kindness. "Your father and I have been discussing your future."

"We don't think you should become king," my father stated bluntly. "You will fail if you try."

My heart pounded in my chest. I had always known my parents to be supportive, if sometimes strict, but this? This was something else entirely.

"You’re not ready, Valen," my mother added. "You'll bring ruin to the kingdom."

Something in me snapped. I rose from my seat, the chair scraping loudly against the stone floor.

"It isn’t about whether I want to become king or not. It isn’t about whether you think I will be a good king or not. It isn't about whether I am ready or not," I said, my voice firm, "The king is chosen by the Gods. They know more and see more than we could ever understand."

As I spoke, a realization dawned on me. These aren't my real parents and this is my Trials. My father's harshness, my mother's coldness: were they reflections of my own insecurities?

As this thought crossed my mind, I noticed the expressions on my parents' faces slowly morph into proud smiles. Then the room seemed to shimmer for a moment, my parents' faces flickering like a candle in the wind. I took a deep breath as the great hall dissolved into darkness.

---

My eyes opened again, and a castle bedchamber came into view, larger and more luxurious than my own.

I was lying on the bed, my shirt off. I felt a motion to my right and looked over to find a beautiful golden-haired woman in nothing but her shift. She ran her fingers down my chest, following the trail of her fingers with her lips. I closed my eyes at the sensation of her touch.

There was another motion on my left. I looked over to find another beautiful woman, this one with chestnut hair. She pulled her shift over her head, throwing it on the floor and exposing her full breasts.

She grabbed my hand and placed it to one breast, bringing her chest close for me to capture her other n****e in my mouth. As I licked and suckled, the blonde woman started unbuttoning my trousers, rubbing my already hard length.

I almost surrendered myself to the promise of pleasure these two women offered, when I heard a faint whisper call my name, “Valen.”

I sat up and looked around the room, trying to find where the voice came from. The two women attempted to pull my attention to them again.

“Relax, Your Majesty.” One said seductively.

“We will make you feel so good, my king,” said the other.

I frowned. I was a prince, not a king. The haze of lust lifted, and I realized I was still in the Trial. If I was king, I would be waiting for my mate, not indulging in meaningless conquests.

“Get out!” I barked at the two girls, my skin starting to crawl where their skin pressed against mine, “Out!”

They both scrambled to grab their clothing and left the chambers in a rush, sensing my anger.

I stood up, buttoned up my trousers, and got a better look at the room. I saw a door leading to a large balcony that I recognized as the balcony to the king’s chambers. I walked out that door, feeling the fresh breeze brush against my skin, washing away the crawling sensations from where the women’s skin touched mine.

At the far edge of the balcony, a petite woman stood with her back to me, looking out over the kingdom below us. She wore a shimmering golden nightdress that fell to the floor, hugging her curves tightly. I longed to run my fingers through her dark wavy hair until my hand reached the small of her back.

She turned around, as I approached slowly, unsure of what to make of this ethereal beauty before me.

“Valen,” her wide green eyes filled with adoration as she greeted me, her pink lips turned up into a smile.

I knew in an instant that I would do anything and everything to protect this woman. This woman was the air I breathed. She was the ground beneath my feet.

I reached out to her, her loving smile widening as she allowed me to pull her into my arms, sighing as she rested her head on my chest. I chuckled at how short she was compared to my massive 6' 5" frame.

This is my mate.