The Council
Roarke
As we crossed the loch, I saw a black figure circling the castle ruins in the night sky, and up ahead, a large black dragon who oversaw the entrance. It made sense; the Black caste dragons were considered guardians.
I growled at the outright betrayal of the dragon. Lord Finnley spotted me and smirked with that smug grin. I felt Devin stiffen; he saw the action as well. His rage ran through our bond, and I clasped his hand, continuing to the other end of the ruins.
The sound of the water hitting the shore rang out and the wind howled off the stone castle ruins. The area and the castle, though crumbling, were a beautiful sight. It would have been stunning in its original state. I wondered for a moment if this was like High Garden.
High Garden was the ancient capital city of Dragonkind, where the great Dragon King had ruled during an age when all knew about dragons, shifters, and magic. Though I had never seen it in person, every dragon knew about it.
Stories told it was a beautiful island that floated not in the sea but in the sky.
The magic of Sacred Flame had kept it aloft: a large blue tongue of fire that stood high above the city on a pedestal in the center square.
Krispin was now its guardian and able to wield both the fire and the magic.
It was with that power that he had killed his brother and the evil mage. He had also used it to save my life.
I noted my father; he was dressed in his traditional red plaid kilt, representing the Red caste. He took his place on the dais. All but the Black Dragon at the entrance shifted to their human forms. The other representatives also took their places.
I spotted Lord Donavan of the Purple caste, a stout man with shaggy brown hair and a large, bushy beard. The Purple caste were the healers of dragons. Which was why most of the caste were doctors, like Addison.
Lord Tilly was the head of the White caste.
He sat in the center seat; he was slight and skinny and had short bleached-white hair.
He wore tight skinny jeans and a flowing white shirt.
He was what most would call a twink. No one would have known he was well over three thousand years old.
The White caste held lightning affinity and were the dragon enforcers.
The Blue caste leader, Lord Hanson, was slim and tall, with porcelain white skin.
He sported an angular nose, short, light brown hair, and royal-blue eyes.
Instead of a kilt, he was in a tailored suit with a blue plaid sash.
The Blue caste had water affinity and were part of the warrior caste, like the Reds.
Last to take his seat was Lord Dranin of the Black caste.
He was a large, black-skinned man. He was very muscular, built like a brick shithouse.
He had a strong, handsome face, short black hair, and coal-black eyes.
He was stunning in a tailored black suit that hugged his body like a second skin.
A black and gray plaid slash symbolized his caste.
The Black caste held a shadow affinity that allowed them to blend into the darkness. They were guardians, though traditionally they were used as assassins. They’d only taken over the position of guardians after the Green caste had been banned from the council.
Lord Tilly stood from his seat, and with a loud, deep voice that belied his small frame, he called the council to order.
"Dragons!" he called, settling all in the crowd.
"Lord Finnley of the Bracara circle, step forward."
Lord Finnley split from his posse, stepped up and bowed before the council. He had no shirt on, wore a green and black plaid kilt and black combat boots. His black hair brushed across his broad shoulders as he bowed at the waist.
"My lords," Finnley said.
"Lord MacNair, of the Glenfinnan circle, step before the council," Lord Tilly commanded.
My father stood up, came off the dais, and bowed before the council. "My lords."
Lord Tilly straightened, his silver-blue eyes boring into my father and Lord Finnley.
"We have been called together to resolve the dispute between your two circles. We will hear your grievances."