CHAPTER ONE RYN

                Dreams should come with a warning sign, a reminder that reality always hits harder. Ryn should have known better—that the pristine skyline of Neo City was nothing more than an illusion. But how could she, when it felt so real? When it had been her life for as long as she could remember?
It began on her nineteenth ceremony. Asteryn “Ryn” Aristide stood beside her twin brother, Rey and sister Radiant.
The throne room of Elysium Castle was a masterpiece of contrasts, where ancient grandeur met cutting-edge innovation. Towering arches framed the space, their gothic spires carved with intricate designs that depicted dragons in flight and celestial bodies swirling amidst the cosmos. Massive stained-glass windows cast ethereal light across the hall, their rich blues and reds intertwining with vibrant neon streaks from the high-tech panels embedded within. The panes pulsed with soft Æssence energy, alive in a way that seemed to breathe life into the ancient art.

Suspended above the room was a colossal chandelier made of sleek black metal and crystalline orbs, each glowing faintly with Æssence. It floated weightlessly, rotating ever so slightly, casting dancing patterns of light and shadow over the obsidian floors. The walls were lined with digital interfaces that displayed flowing Æssence patterns, their movements synchronized with the faint hum of unseen machinery.

At the far end of the room stood the twin thrones, perched atop a dais of polished black stone veined with molten gold. King Byron’s throne loomed larger, a towering piece of obsidian intricately etched with runes that glimmered faintly with power. The smaller throne beside it was just as imposing, though its design was more elegant, meant for Ryn’s late mother, Eve. It had not been used in years.

The air itself was thick with Æssence, an invisible pulse that seemed to reverberate in every corner of the hall, making the hair on Ryn’s arms stand on end. The space was at once intimidating and awe-inspiring, a place where tradition met the unrelenting march of progress. Every detail spoke of her father’s vision—a seamless blend of past and future, power and innovation, control and majesty.

Ryn couldn’t help but glance toward the velvet-draped table that stood before the dais. Upon it rested three intricately carved boxes, each lined with crimson velvet. Closed but emitting power.

Rey shifted beside her, his sharp suit catching the neon light as he adjusted his gloves. He didn’t seem awed by the spectacle; he rarely was. Ryn, however, felt a knot of tension coil in her stomach. This was more than a ceremony—it was a moment that would mark a shift in their lives, though she couldn’t yet grasp how deeply.

King Byron Aristide stood before the throne, his imposing figure framed by a backdrop of cascading digital displays that projected the sigil of their family: a three-headed dragon encircled by a crown of stars. He was dressed in ceremonial armor, a blend of gleaming metal and synthetic fiber, every inch of him radiating authority.

It was silent except for the faint hum of the Æssence conduits running along the walls, a sound that seemed to underscore the weight of the moment.

“My children,” Byron’s voice boomed, carrying effortlessly across the hall. “Today, you receive the most precious gifts of our lineage. Within these scales lie the key to your power, your future, and the legacy of House Aristide.”

Ryn stood to Byron’s right, dressed in a flowing gown of red and black that shimmered like liquid Æssence. Her pale hair was pinned back in an intricate style, her expression calm but her fingers twitching slightly at her sides. Beside her, Rey adjusted his gloves with a practiced arrogance, his white and black suit immaculate. And then there was Radiant, the youngest, perched to Byron’s left in a dress of shimmering gold that complemented her cascading curls. Her lips curved in a smug smile, as if she already knew her place as the family’s favorite.

Byron gestured to the pedestals, and attendants stepped forward to open the boxes. Inside, the scales gleamed with an otherworldly light—the Quartz Scale for Rady the Crimson Scale for Rey, and the Obsidian Scale for Ryn.

Rady let out a delighted gasp as she reached for her scale. “It’s perfect! Look at the way it glows. Father, you shouldn’t have.”

Rey snorted. “Oh, please, Rady. We all know you’re getting the easiest dragon.” He grabbed the Crimson Scale, holding it up to the light. “This one’s meant for battle. The perfect match for me.”

Ryn hesitated, her gaze fixed on the Obsidian Scale. Its dark surface seemed to drink in the light, faint veins of gold pulsing rhythmically. She reached out, her fingers brushing against it, and felt a chilling shiver run through her. "I don't think this one likes me." 

“Wait,” Radiant said, her tone sharp. “Why does Ryn get that one? It’s so mysterious. Shouldn’t she have the Quartz dragon? It’s more… her speed.”

"No, this one is mine,” Ryn said, her voice firm. “I won't give it up.”

Rey’s eyes narrowed. “Actually, the Obsidian Scale would suit me better. You can take the Crimson Scale instead.”

“You already picked yours,” Ryn shot back. “Why do you care what I have?”

“Because it’s wasted on you!” Rey snapped, stepping closer. “Give it to me, Ryn.”

Rady giggled, took her scale and examined it, "I might just warm up to this one.”

“Enough!” Ryn said, clutching the Obsidian Scale tightly. The edges bit into her palm, sharp and unyielding. She felt a sudden sting, followed by a warmth spreading through her hand, soaking into the thin lace of her glove. She gasped, glancing down to see blood trickling onto the scale’s dark surface.

The room seemed to freeze. The Obsidian Scale pulsed violently, a low hum emanating from it as shadows began to gather around Ryn’s feet.

“What… what’s happening?” Rey said, stepping back.

"Saints, what is that?" Rady scurried further back. 

A gust of wind erupted from the scale, swirling with shadow and charged Æssence. The hum grew louder, resonating through the throne room as the shadows coalesced into a towering figure. When the shadows faded, he stood there.

Long inky hair cascaded down his back, his golden eyes sharp and unyielding. Draconian armor covered his tall, lean frame, dark as the scale that summoned him, with faint gold veins that mirrored its design. He stood motionless for a moment, his gaze sweeping the room before locking onto Ryn.

"Your very own Draconic warrior," King Byron announced with pride. "Osiris."

The dragon now a man—Osiris—turned his aloof gaze toward her, his expression unreadable. After a beat, he dipped his head in a slow, measured bow, his golden eyes flickering with faint recognition.

“My Principle,” he said, his voice deep and measured. “I am Osiris, and I am bound to you.”

Rey’s jaw dropped. “No. No way. That’s supposed to be my dragon!”

“The dragon chooses their Principle,” Byron said, his tone as calm as ever. “Ryn’s blood summoned him. That bond cannot be undone.”

Rey clenched his fists. “But he's strong, I deserve the strongest dragon, I'm the oldest!”

Ryn barely heard him. Her gaze was locked on Osiris, her heart pounding as she tried to process what had just happened. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Rey lunged forward, his hand outstretched toward her.

In an instant, Osiris moved. His dark blade appeared as if from nowhere, the tip hovering just a breath away from Rey’s throat.

“Touch her,” Osiris said, his tone deadly calm, “and you die.”

The room fell silent, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Rey froze, his eyes wide with shock and fury.

“Rey,” King Byron said, his voice cutting through the silence. “You have your own scale. Summon your Fire Dragon, Typhon.”

Rey’s jaw tightened, but he stepped back, his gaze burning with resentment. He turned to the Crimson Scale, gripping it tightly as he slashed it across his palm. The scale flared with brilliant light, and another figure emerged. Typhon.

Clad in crimson armor, Typhon was the opposite of his brother in every way. His red hair shone like fire, his ruby eyes calm and steady. He turned to Rey and bowed gracefully.

“My liege,” Typhon said, his voice low and rough, “an honor to serve ya.”

Rey smirked, his confidence returning. “That’s more like it.”

Ryn glanced at Osiris, who stood unmoving at her side. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his posture betrayed his unease. She touched the chain of the Obsidian Scale, the scale felt cold in her hand, the chill seeping into her palm like a warning. She instinctively pushed a warm pulse of Æssence into it, her energy meeting the scale’s resistance and coaxing it to respond.

Osiris inhaled sharply, his chest rising as if the warmth reignited something dormant within him. He shook his head, his long, inky hair catching the light.

“My turn!” Rady announced as she raised her quartz scale up.

"It's Orion, my little brother." Osiris’s tone held no sympathy, no emotion—just a statement of fact.

Rady stepped back, smirking. She tugged off her white laced glove then pricked the edge of the scale along her finger. The scale absorbed her blood eagerly, glowing as it soaked it in. The moment it did, the scale shuddered, Æssence and brilliant light exploding from it.

Before them stood another figure, draped in white Draconian armor, his presence just as commanding as Osiris’s—yet different. Long, silvery hair cascaded down his back, shimmering in the light, and his slender form gave him an ethereal grace. In his hand, a long sword gleamed with deadly intent.

Orion’s blue-opal eyes turned to Rady, and he bowed his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Dear Princess Radiant, tis' a pleasure."

Rady’s smirk deepened. "Aw, he looks like a prince!" 

Ryn stole a glance at Osiris. Uncertainty flickered in her gaze. She saw the way his expression remained unreadable, but the subtle tremor in his scale revealed the frustration gnawing at him. Being bound to anyone was one thing—but to bratty teens? That was asking for trouble.

King Byron nodded, satisfied with how his children had handled the situation. "Now that you three have received your gifts, I shall explain the importance of their scales." His voice took on a gravitas as he continued.

"These scales are their hearts. They are bound to them, so keep them close. Your blood may have summoned them, but if their scales fall into the wrong hands, it could be troublesome."

"Wait, are you saying it’s their weakness?" Rey asked, clutching the palm-sized crimson scale like it was worth more than gold.

"Their hearts. What do you think, son?" King Byron’s tone was sharp, as if the answer were obvious.

"Oh, we need to be careful then." Ryn spoke quietly, holding the scale gentler this time.

King Byron smirked. "They are bound to you. They shall obey your every command."

The scale pulsed gently against Ryn’s skin, and she lifted her gaze to meet Osiris’s. His expression remained severe, unreadable—though she could feel the tension in the air between them.

"What? Really?" Rey’s smirk was knife-sharp as he turned a gleaming eye toward Typhon. "Kneel before me, dragon!" His voice rang with a command that brooked no disobedience.

Typhon’s movements were smooth but slightly stiff as he lowered himself in a controlled bow, a reluctant grace hidden beneath the surface.

"Ah, ha. Look at that!" Rey crowed, his triumph thick in his voice.

Osiris tensed, a low growl vibrating in his chest. “Tsk, brat.”

Ryn’s fingers brushed his arm, a subtle gesture of reassurance as she stepped closer.

Osiris’s golden eyes flicked toward her, the quiet storm of anger within him barely contained. "Your orders are absolute, Your Highness," he said, his voice low, warning. "So be wary of your epithets."

Ryn nodded, her fingers tightening around her scale. "Of course."

“Orion, kiss my hand.” Rady commanded as she held her hand out toward the white dragon.
With a grace only dragons could have, he did as commanded, smiled even as he did so, “Yes, Your Highness.”

Rady squealed in delight. 

Both turned to Ryn expectantly. 

"What?" She asked, oh, they wanted her to command Osiris? She shook her head, "I don't need to order him... actually..." She glanced at Osiris, "I shouldn't order him." She then held out the scale to him. 

Osiris stared, a little stunned. 

"You cannot give away your gift, Ryn!" King Byron shot, "if you do, that weapon will lose control."

"Are you stupid, or do you love pissing off father?" Rey sniped. 

"If it's my gift, then I can do what I wish with it." She said as she held out the scale to its rightful owner. 

"I'm grateful, Your Highness." Osiris accepted the scale and looped the chain around his neck and bowed in reverence. 

The entire room fell silent. 

"You're meant to hold on it, Ryn!" King Byron seethed, "why would you-"

"Dragons aren't meant to be bound to us, father." Ryn said, "and the moment I took his scale, he hated it, entirely." 

Orion glanced at Rady. 

And Typhon regarded Rey with a knowing quirk of his brow. 

"Don't expect me to free you, you're mine." Rey said, tucking his scale away. 

Rady gripped her scale closer to her chest, "Yeah, I don't want to give you up." 

Both dragons sighed. 

"So you'd rather imprison a dragon than give them the choice of loyalty," Osiris spoke up, his tone measured but edged with irritation, "how typical of you royal pigs."

"Silence! Ryn control your dragon or I will have his tongue." King Bryon declared. 

"Osiris, please." Ryn gripped at his hand, clad in cold armor. 

Osiris scoffed, "Tsk. I want to see you try." 

"Asteryn, your dragon is out of line."

"So are you, gifting away my brethren as if they're prizes, token dragons to be tamed." Osiris snapped, dark Æssence swirled around him, "by children no less, what a joke." 

"Asteryn!" King Byron bellowed, glaring directly at her. 

Ryn tugged at Osiris' hand, "please, it's my birthday, can we not do this?" 

"Where's your back bone, Princess?" He hissed, golden eyes blazing, "your birthday is more important than the forced slavery of ancient dragons?" 

"Can we discuss this matter another time?"

"Why not now?"

"The Knights, is why." She cocked her head toward the other end of the room, after they'd filed in, father's Æssent Knights had stationed themselves at the entrance and exit of the throne room. Ready to intercede at any moment. 

Pick your battles. 

Osiris noted the look in her eye and conceded with a nod, "apologies, I may have lost my temper at the injustice." 

King Byron nodded, "Now, now that’s out of the way, we can commence our festivities!" He  declared, his voice ringing with authority. Eager to move on. 

With that, the ceremony ended, and the siblings, along with their dragons, moved toward the main event—the party.

Ornate stone archways loomed over the room, their edges lined with dynamic LED strips that pulsed with Æssence-like hues, casting a soft glow onto the intricate carvings of gargoyles and ancient figures. Stained glass windows had been augmented with holographic projections, the shifting patterns of light creating an ever-changing tapestry of vibrant colors.

Massive chandeliers hung from the high, vaulted ceilings, their traditional wrought-iron frames juxtaposed with suspended orbs of neon light, which shimmered in rhythmic patterns to the beat of ambient music. The long banquet tables, made of dark mahogany, were set with crystalline plates that emitted a faint bioluminescent glow, and at their center ran holographic table runners, displaying flowing rivers of data interspersed with blooming digital roses. Among that were opulent foods and desserts, the main center table with a set of three large cakes one for each sibling.

The floor, a polished checkerboard of black and white marble, reflected the interplay of old and new as guests walked past, their figures bathed in a mixture of soft candlelight from candelabras and the sharper illumination of projected displays. In the corners of the room, gargantuan stone statues of dragons, intricately carved down to the smallest scale, had been fitted with concealed fiber optics, their eyes glowing with an eerie yet captivating light.

Behind the throne dais, a massive gothic cathedral-like wall served as a backdrop. Its central point featured a rose window crafted not from glass but from layers of transparent nano-screens, each one displaying images of Neo City's skyline, overlaid with faint, almost imperceptible codes and symbols. Beneath the window, the twin thrones stood on an elevated platform, flanked by sleek digital screens embedded into the stone pillars. These screens displayed shifting visuals of family crests, historical battles, and other symbolic imagery that connected the Aristide lineage to both past and future.

Ryn stood out in a red, white, and black dress, her long pale hair intricately styled. She matched Rey in his own ensemble—his suit predominantly white, with red and black accents scattered throughout. Their coordinated looks made it clear they were a unit, despite the growing tension between them.

"Don't think you’ve gotten away with this, dear sister." Rey’s voice was a low, threatening murmur as he stepped beside her, his eyes narrowing. "I will have what's mine, one way or another."

"Step back." Osiris’s voice was a quiet threat, the kind that made the air around them feel heavier.

Rey flinched a little, he called out. "Typhon!"

The Crimson Dragon appeared almost instantly, his ruby blade gleaming as he moved to stand protectively beside Rey. He gave Osiris a reluctant glance, the tension between the two dragons palpable. His stance was defensive, though there was a softness in his eyes that betrayed his internal conflict.

Osiris’s jaw clenched. "Tsk. What a fucking pain."

Ryn didn’t acknowledge the confrontation. With a sharp motion, she turned and walked toward the gardens, purpose in her steps. She knew the drama would only escalate, and she had no intention of staying to watch it unfold. "Come on, Osiris," she muttered, as she ignored Rey’s attempts to draw her back into the chaos.

Ryn stepped out into the garden, the weight of the ceremony still lingering in the air. She felt the need to escape for a moment, and the cool air of the garden helped ground her thoughts. Osiris was waiting by one of the blooming trees, his presence as unyielding as ever.

The silence between them stretched on, Osiris’s gaze unwavering, as though he could see through her thoughts.

"What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice cutting through the stillness.

Osiris remained silent, only the faintest flicker of golden eyes meeting hers. After a long pause, he spoke, his tone low but filled with meaning.

"Look around you."

Ryn glanced around, taking in the beauty of the gardens—the shimmering trees, the glowing lights, the scent of fresh flowers. The place was majestic, just as her father wanted.

"It’s beautiful," she said, unsure of where he was going with this. "What’s the problem?"

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes moved over the surroundings, as if assessing every detail with the precision of someone who had seen too much. Finally, he spoke, his voice like a warning. "Beauty is ever deceitful, try looking past the illusion."

Ryn frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Osiris let out a quiet breath, as though deciding how much to say. "Your father… he has kept you safe, but at what cost?"

Her heart skipped. "Father would never—"

"Would he not?" His golden eyes locked onto hers. "How much do you really know about this world, Ryn?"

She flinched at the weight of his words, but before she could respond, Osiris had turned away, his gaze distant again.

"You may have your dragon, your weapon, but you don’t see the game you’re in. Not yet."

Ryn’s frustration mounted, her gaze narrowing as she turned toward Osiris. "What game? What are you talking about?" she demanded, her voice sharp with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

Osiris golden eyes unwavering as he stepped toward her, calm in the face of her anger. His hand moved toward a nearby bush, and with deliberate slowness, he plucked a rose from its stem. Ryn watched as he gently opened the flower, revealing a small microphone hidden in its core.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed the birds draw no breath, the roses cast no petals," Osiris murmured, tossing the rose aside as he crushed the mic in his fist. His fingers glowed faintly with Æssence, and he shot a stream of black energy toward the bird perched in the tree above. The bird dropped, lifeless, at their feet, the delicate feathers now dull and static, its once-vibrant eyes glassy and unblinking.

Ryn’s breath caught in her throat, the realization slowly creeping in. Her mind raced for an explanation, any justification she could hold onto. "He’s set up surveillance to protect us," she countered, but even her voice faltered.

"Did he?" Osiris’s voice was steady, almost colder than before, as though he was peeling away the layers of her understanding with each word. His gaze held hers, intense and knowing, as if waiting for her to see what he already could.

Ryn shook her head, disbelief clawing at her. "What’s your point? Father’s kept us safe—" She trailed off, suddenly unsure, the familiar certainty of her world crumbling.

Osiris didn’t offer any reassurance. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "Safe from what, Ryn? You think this world is as it seems? That everything’s as perfect as it looks from here?"

She opened her mouth to argue but found herself silent, the weight of his words pressing against her chest. The gardens, the city—everything that had seemed so perfect—now felt strangely foreign, almost hollow.

Osiris’s eyes softened, but only slightly. "You’ve been living in a fantasy," he said, his voice low, his tone almost pitying. "And you’re so afraid to see it for what it truly is."

The words lingered between them, thick with the promise of something darker, something hidden beneath the surface. Ryn swallowed, unsure of what to say next, her mind reeling from the fragments of doubt Osiris had planted in her.

"Do you even know what he’s really protecting you from?" Osiris added, his voice still a low murmur, but there was a sharpness to it now. "Or is it just another way for him to keep you in the dark?"

Ryn couldn’t answer. She didn’t know.  But for years, her family has been the pinnacle for advanced technology through the harvest of Æssence. Ever since it's discovery during the Industrial Evolution. It reshaped the world as they knew it. Her family built the castle over it's extraction point and recently, father had devised a way to access the earth's otherworldly energy as safely and efficiently as possible. 

At least, it's what he's always claimed to have done. 

"Osiris, what do you know?" 

Osiris turned to her expression resolute, "about time you ask, Princess."