Chapter 17

the distinction between the bearer of the dragon mark and a royal soul blessed with dragon blood was a tapestry woven with threads of power and heritage.

The bearer of the dragon mark was more than a mere mortal. They were a nexus, a convergence of royal lineage and an ancient magic that flowed through their veins. Beyond their ability to ride dragons, they held the key to a higher realm of control—the dragon authority. A rare gift that bestowed upon them the power to command and shape the dragons' actions.

When they issued a command, it wasn't just spoken words; it was a symphony that resonated on the frequencies of a unique mental connection. Their thoughts brushed against the minds of dragons like a painter's brush on a canvas, crafting intricate patterns of movement and emotion. A simple gesture could steer a dragon's flight, a whispered word could embolden its fire, and a shared intention could merge their spirits into a dance of unity.

Dragon magic flowed through them, ancient spells and incantations that echoed the wisdom of a time when humans and dragons walked side by side. This magic heightened their bond, amplified their authority, and acted as a bridge between their essence and that of the dragons.

The bearer's bond with their dragon was a mosaic of shared respect and mutual understanding. It transcended the physical realm, transcended the mere act of riding. They were partners, two souls bound by an invisible thread, navigating the world together as allies, as confidants.

In the kingdom's eyes, the bearer wasn't just a symbol of royalty. They were a symbol of authority, an embodiment of leadership that extended beyond the crown. Their connection to dragons was revered, their presence in any gathering a testament to the harmony between two worlds.

In contrast, the royal souls with dragon blood had a different connection. They were part of the legacy, carriers of a bloodline that resonated with the ancient creatures. They could ride dragons, soar through the skies on their backs, and become one with the currents of wind and fire. Yet, their connection was different, more anchored in the physical realm.

Their communication with dragons was a dance of body language and cues. A tilt of the head, a subtle shift in posture—it was the language of riders and mounts. Their ability to influence dragons was more limited, lacking the intricate control the bearer wielded. They navigated the skies with skill, their riding expertise a result of heritage and practice.

In battles, these royal riders were a force to be reckoned with. They became avatars of history, guardians of tradition, and harbingers of unity between man and dragon. Their presence was a reminder of the bond that had spanned generations, a promise that the harmony between dragonkind and humankind would not falter.

As the kingdom looked to the skies, to the boundless horizons where dragons soared, they saw two types of connection. One was a symphony of blood and authority, a link forged by destiny and magic. The other was a legacy of lineage, a promise of continued unity, and a tribute to an age-old kinship. And in the heart of Albion's rebirth, the dragons bore witness to these connections, weaving tales of power and heritage with every beat of their majestic wings.

However, only the one who bore the dragon mark could command the dragons' authority and wield their power and could also by prophecy unsheathe the sword of ice from the flames of Ghidorah!

This revelation cast a new light on King Edmund who rode Vhamor—a feat that had puzzled many. Despite not carrying the bloodline, there was no records as to why he didn't possess any of the feats(some say he was the bad egg of the lineage, others said his birth was conspicuous, well I think, destiny had no real need of him) he also had not inherited the dragon mark nor the authority over the dragons. The new young royalty's growth into a fine young man, just a few years younger than King Edmund himself had at the time of his passing, became a curiosity.

Ser Ector, entrusted with the task of monitoring the adoptive prince's growth, found himself in a delicate position. The queen's fondness for the young man was evident, and his charge extended beyond guarding the realm—he was now a guardian of the prince's future.

Poseidon's watch-the sea citadel, an integral part of the kingdom's defense, had been destined for the adoptive prince. King Gawain's foresight had named him as successor, entrusting him with the realm's maritime strength. The young prince's destiny seemed intricately tied to the kingdom's well-being, both as a symbol of the realm's unity and as a guardian of its waters.