Page 7 of Song of the Shadow Prince (The Dragon’s Ballad #1)

6

DAMIEN

I f I hadn’t been flying back to my prison at Obsidian Reach, I wouldn’t have seen Arya and her servant on the river, and I wouldn’t have seen her jump into the river. I hovered in the sky for a while, watching and waiting until she emerged. She did once to catch her breath, and then she dove beneath the surface again. After that, it was as if she’d given up.

Her servant screamed her name, then frantically called for someone on the shore to help, but they were too far away for her cries to be heard.

Dammit .

No one was supposed to know I’d gotten my dragon bones back and could shift into a dragon after being dormant for so long, but I couldn’t stand by and watch her drown, no matter how much I despised the girl. But as I crouched on the bottom of their boat, trying to catch my breath, Arya laughed hysterically as if I hadn’t just saved her, but rather doomed her.

Maybe I did.

What was she trying to do? She said she was trying to go home… but what did that mean?

“Stop causing so much trouble, Arya,” I said coldly as I snatched a blanket from Maeve and threw it at Arya. Her silk dress was plastered to her skin and her pert nipples were visible through her clothes. I averted my gaze and cleared my throat.

“Right… It seems I do that a lot,” she murmured.

“Maeve,” I called out to the servant. “What you saw today…” I pointed to the sky and her eyes widened.

She waved her hands. “I promise, Your Highness. I won’t tell a soul.”

I nodded. I didn’t know why, but I trusted the little servant girl. She’d always been supremely loyal to Arya, almost to her detriment.

“In return, I’ll keep this incident a secret.” I turned my attention back to Arya. “I’m sure Lord Zacharia wouldn’t like to hear that his second daughter, his favorite daughter, keeps trying to throw herself into the river to drown.”

Arya scoffed and stood on wobbly legs. “Thank you, uhh… sister’s boyfriend. Sorry, can’t remember your name.”

I followed suit, not bothering to correct her. Not many bothered to address me according to my title, anyway. I didn’t garner the same respect my brothers and sisters did.

Maeve nudged her. “My lady, he’s the third prince!” she whispered harshly. “You must address him as ‘Your Highness’.”

Arya frowned as she peered up at me, looked me up and down from head to toe and then snorted. “Oh, he is. My bad.” She offered a clumsy curtsey. “Your Highness.”

I choked and tried to cover it up with a cough as her servant slapped a hand on the back of Arya’s head and forcibly pushed her down to bow.

“Ouch!” Arya shrieked, then straightened and shrugged away Maeve’s hand. “You could have just told me,” she snarled.

“Apologies, Your Highness,” Maeve offered, then motioned to her head. “She’s not well.”

“I can tell,” I mumbled more to myself than anything.

Since her first tumble into the river, Arya hadn’t been herself, but I didn’t have the energy to figure out this mystery. I had enough on my plate to deal with. It was best if I stayed out of Ryder business, especially since I cut ties with Gianna earlier that morning. It was the reason I was close enough to her residence to notice Arya and Maeve on the river. Gianna wasn’t happy about my decision, but it had to be done. It was best for both of us.

After rowing back to shore, I parted ways with Arya and her servant. The late afternoon sun started to dip toward the horizon, stretching long, shadowy fingers across the landscape. I took to the skies and shifted into my dragon form under the cover of clouds, setting my course for Obsidian Reach, the island that had been my prison and home since birth.

During the transformation, my body elongated and expanded and scales shimmered across my skin. My wings unfolded, vast and black as midnight, their membranes catching the wind with powerful, rhythmic beats. The world below quickly shrank as I ascended, the rooftops of the Northern District becoming mere specks. The wind roared past my ears, a song of freedom and isolation.

The vast tapestry of the land unfurled beneath me as I soared over Elaria. The Northern District’s grand homes for the elite gave way to the stone buildings and bustling markets of the Southern District. Beyond that, the dense forests and winding rivers, their water glistening like silver threads in the sunlight, sprawled across the landscape. The air up this high was fresh, tinged with the scent of pine and earth, a stark contrast to the smoky, sulfurous air of my destination.

Obsidian Reach loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the evening sky. The island was dominated by a massive dormant volcano, its jagged peak piercing the clouds. I carefully descended, flying low to avoid the patrols my father had stationed around the island. The guards were vigilant, their eyes scanning the skies, but I was a master of stealth and slipped past them with practiced ease.

As I neared the volcano, its crater yawned open like the mouth of some ancient beast. I dove into the chasm and the temperature rapidly rose as daylight vanished. The walls of the crater were lined with dark, volcanic rock, their surfaces jagged and sharp. The faint glow of molten lava flickered in the depths, casting an eerie, red light on the stone.

I landed at the bottom of the volcano where the ground was a solidified sea of black lava from centuries past. The air reeked of sulfur and ash, the remnants of long-extinguished fires. The grand hall loomed before me, a space both imposing and familiar, the dark stone absorbing the flickering light from the lava below to create an atmosphere of warmth and shadow. Carved into the rock, the hall was an impressive feat of architecture, its high ceilings supported by pillars of basalt. The air inside the volcano was heavy with the scent of charred rock and the faint, metallic tang of ancient lava. The walls were adorned with banners and tapestries depicting the history of our Drakonar clan, scenes of dragons and battles woven into the fabric. The furnishings were sparse but elegant, carved from the same dark stone as the walls, their surfaces polished to a high sheen.

Uncle Bai was waiting for me. He lounged on one of the chairs with a book in his hand, his silver hair catching the dim light. His eyes, sharp and wise, watched me as I shifted back into my human form.

“Damien,” he called out, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “What took you so long? You were expected back over an hour ago.”

“There was… an inconvenience,” I said cryptically, brushing off the dust and remnants of my transformation.

Uncle Bai nodded thoughtfully, then closed his book with a soft thud. “I assume things have been wrapped up with Lady Gianna?” he asked, his tone calm but expectant.

“I saw her this morning and broke things off,” I replied, my mind still reeling with thoughts of Arya and the strange events of the day. My footsteps echoed softly as I walked further into the hall, a reminder of the vast emptiness of this place. It was home but it was also a prison, its isolation as much a part of me as my reclaimed dragon form.

“Good. She wasn’t the one.”

I sighed and dropped onto an empty lounge chair, throwing my head back. “Then who is, Uncle? I’m tired of waiting. It’s been seventy-five long years.”

Uncle Bai grunted. “You’re still a pup. And the mark only appeared fifty-five years ago,” he chuckled. “Wait until you’re my age.”

“I thank the immortals I’m not your age and in my current predicament, because if I had to wait almost a thousand years for a woman, I would’ve offed myself by now,” I deadpanned.

“This isn’t just any woman, Damien, and you know it. Finding her is what your father fears most, which is why he took away your dragon bones before you could shift for the first time,” he chided. “There have not been mated dragons since the first four dragon eggs were found in Elaria many centuries ago.”

I raised one brow. “You said the fae were the ones who found the four eggs, right?” I knew much of the history, but our origins were a bit hazy with different accounts from different people.

Uncle Bai nodded. “The fae found four dragon eggs here in this volcano on Obsidian Reach, and they carefully nurtured them and prepared them to hatch.” He paused and looked up, exhaling a wistful sigh. “We once enjoyed a close relationship with the fae. Unfortunately, the fae are a cruel species, and as rulers, they weren’t any better.”

“Is that when we teamed up with the humans?” I asked.

“Yes. The twin flame mark began to appear on the dragons, but also on the humans. Their matching marks paired them up as mates and the bond gave them special abilities,” Uncle Bai explained. “These humans could be our riders, fighting in battle with us. Together we were unstoppable. It was how we defeated the fae.”

“But why is my father afraid of the mark?” I asked the question that had plagued my mind for many years, since it first appeared on my forearm when I turned twenty.

Uncle Bai cleared his throat. “As the decades passed, we noticed the mark was showing up less and less, until finally it stopped. That was when the seer told the dragon emperor that the next time the twin flames appeared, it would reveal the one true king and true dragon.”

My eyes widened as I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees. “Uncle, you never told me that part before!”

He sighed. “I didn’t want to alarm you, but I see you losing hope with each passing year, and after everything with Gianna, I feel like you’re giving up. But Damien, listen to me, you cannot. You are—”

“I don’t want to be emperor, much less a king!” I interrupted, my voice echoing off the volcanic rock walls. That was one thing I knew as clear as the day I was born. I’d never vied for the throne.

Uncle Bai watched me closely, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized every nuance of my expression. The dim light cast eerie shadows on his face, making his age lines appear deeper. His gaze locked onto mine and I met it head-on, refusing to blink first. I was resolute in my feelings on the matter.

Uncle Bai finally nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “Good.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I worried you might have been tempted.”

I shook my head firmly. “No. You know I’ve only ever wanted three things. One, for my dragon bones so I could be a full-fledged dragon. Two, the return of my heart scale so I am protected. And three, I want out of this prison.” I gestured to the volcano’s dark, oppressive walls. “I want a quiet life away from palace politics, war, and family squabbles. They can remove my name from the family registry and I won’t care. I’ve never had the wealth or status that comes with being a third prince, and I don’t need it now or ever.”

Uncle Bai’s eyes softened, though his voice remained firm. “Damien, I swear to the old immortals and new, that you will have what you wish for. You just need to be patient. If your father learns you found your dragon bones and survived the retrieval, it will only confirm the prophecy given by the seer many centuries ago.”

I frowned, confusion etching lines into my forehead. “Why?”

Uncle Bai’s expression darkened. “Because your father threw your bones into an active volcano. No one could have survived the retrieval without burn scars, yet you returned… unscathed. Don’t you understand the significance of what you did?”

I spent a decade searching for my dragon bones before learning my father had thrown them into Pyrepeak Volcano, a place where no one would dare to recover them. My uncle warned me against taking the risk, but I felt incomplete without them. I would rather die than live without them for all eternity. When I returned to Obsidian Reach in my dragon form, my uncle looked at me differently, but I never questioned it. Now I understood.

“Why don’t you want me to be emperor?” I changed the subject to give me time to process the weight of the revelation. The prophecy seemed contradictory to what I had been told. Why did Uncle Bai stay by my side all these years?

“It’s not about what I want, Damien, it’s about what you want. And I know that ruling Elaria is not where your heart lies,” he said softly, his voice carrying a tone of paternal care. “Why would I force something like that on you? The weight of the crown is a heavy burden to bear.”

“What if she never shows?” I asked, looking down at my booted feet, the leather worn from years of wear. “It’s been seventy-five years and I haven’t found her yet.”

“She’s out there, Damien. She must be,” Uncle Bai reassured me, his tone unwavering. “And when you find her, everything will make sense. With her by your side, your father will have no choice but to grant your freedom. And with it, you can leave Elaria and never look back.”

It was the deal my father and I made when I turned twenty and the mark showed up. It was the first time I’d met my father, and it also happened to be when he extracted my dragon bones. He was a cruel man, and I realized in that moment just how much he hated me. But we struck a deal: if I ever found my twin flame, he would free me from my prison. And to make things fair, he allowed me out of this cage once every month for that chance to find her. It was a slim chance, barely any hope at all, but a chance, nonetheless. He doubted I’d ever find her, and most of the time I did too.

I tightened my jaw and clenched my hands, the leather of my gloves creaking under the pressure. “What if she’s like Gianna and doesn’t want to leave Elaria?” I peered up to look at my uncle, my voice betraying a hint of desperation.

He sighed, a long, weary sound that echoed in the grand hall. “That’s a bridge you’ll have to cross once you get there. Don’t put obstacles in your path before they’ve arrived.”

I chuckled bitterly. “Right. Uncle, have you ever regretted it?” I watched his reaction closely. He raised a bushy brow in question. “Going against your own brother,” I clarified. “When I was born and exiled, you decided to go into exile with me. Why?”

Uncle Bai watched me intently, his gaze searching mine for something unspoken. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unasked questions. After a few tense seconds, he spoke, his voice soft but resolute. “It’s what your mother would have wanted, Damien. She would have wanted someone here to protect you. You did nothing wrong. No matter what your father says, her death was not your fault.”

I grimaced and looked away, my eyes focusing on the flickering shadows cast by the lava below. “That’s not what he says,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.

“Ignore him,” Uncle Bai said, his voice firm. “My brother loved your mother deeply… perhaps too deeply. Her death… changed him. He wasn’t the same afterward.”

The air felt heavier than ever, the weight of our conversation pressing down on me. The smell of charred rock and the acrid scent of sulfur filled my nostrils, grounding me in the reality of my situation. Flickering light from the lava cast long shadows on the stone walls, making the space feel both vast and claustrophobic. Despite the warmth of the dried lava, a chill settled over me, a reminder of my isolation and the burdens I carried.

“Uncle,” I began, my voice steadying. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But I need to know… if there’s truly a way out of this. I need to believe that my future isn’t just a continuation of this prison.”

Uncle Bai stood, his presence commanding even in the dim light. He placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip reassuring. “Damien, your future is not set in stone. You have the power to change it. And I will be here to help you every step of the way. We will find her, and you will claim your freedom.”