“You called, Blue Father?” Damianos asked as he strode into his father’s lab in Zone 6.

He found his sire standing before his second lab’s computational wall. It contained readings from the local lupin population, Damianos noted with a glance. But he did not bother to observe more than that.

His father’s mission to assess the spiritual capacity of this population annoyed his flame. As someone tasked with readying the population for the hunt in the event the entire planet wasn’t declared a sanctuary, he cared little for his father’s directive, which conflicted with his own.

“You did not ask permission to enter, Blue Son,” his father noted, without turning from the Drakkon words scrolling down the wall. However, his eyes flicked to the anthro who’d followed Damianos into the lab. “Nor did you ask permission to bring one of your hominids into my abode.”

Damianos’ own eyes flicked down to the accompanying anthro. He’d almost forgotten about the two-legged primate he’d godspoken into making this journey with him. The squat hominid looked about the glacier lab, babbling in his North Traveler language about the wonders of the “ice cave.” Asking if this were the home of all the gods. If—

“Quiet,” Damianos commanded in the North Traveler tongue. The anthro immediately complied as if the command had come from—well, a god.

Then to his father, Damianos replied, “He is but meat, Blue Father. A walking, talking midday snack who cannot understand our tongue. And if you wished me to ask permission, you should not have coded me into the door. Now shall we speak upon the matter so urgent that I was commanded to abandon my post and meet you here, so far from my assigned territory?”

“The Second Prince made the door coding decision. Not I.”

“Is that so?” Damianos asked. “I must give the Prince of Drakkon my thanks if ever he lifts the ban on access to his work zone. At least he seems to have a care for not wasting my time.” He chose to use his cousin’s new title, as opposed to the one he’d held when they departed for their journey to this water and ice planet

His father’s flame colored a vexed orange and red, though in truth, it was Damianos who had the most right to be vexed.

But instead of chastising his son for his impudent attitude, the older drakkon let out a long-steamed breath. “I find myself in need of your counsel,” he admitted. “I’ve been secretly tasked with what is proving to be a very difficult mission. My first attempt completely failed.”

What followed was quite a story. Shortly after arrival, the newly crowned King of Drakkon sent his uncle an encrypted message with a predictable, but by no means simple, mission. His uncle was to ensure the Second Prince never returned from this planet.

Apparently, much had happened on Drakkon since the new king’s inauguration. Though he had received the best mate the matching device could provide, their first attempt at a child had ended in the deaths of both the egg and its drakki mother. Which meant the Blue King’s line would end, unless the Prince of Drakkon produced an heir. The same prince who had been all but exiled to not just another part of their planet, but another planet altogether. Still, it should have been a simple matter of calling his brother back to Drakkon to take a mate, and hopefully ensure an heir to the throne.

However, instead of doing that, the King, in a rather public fit of petulance, declared that the fating portals should be recoded so royal drakkon, and those in the upper echelons of Drakkon society, could take two wives to mate—thereby increasing their odds of breeding. In the King’s opinion, this announcement should have been met with much fanfare, since drakki now had that much more chance of marrying above their status.

It was not.

In fact, there had been so much protest among the poorer classes (not to mention those who truly believed in the sacred rites of Reverence), that a small but powerful “Second Prince” following had arisen.

According to the new king, these drakkon, without having much knowledge of the Second Prince, had cast him in the role of the most ideal ruler imaginable—a title which technically belonged only to the King of Drakkon. And the King feared the Second Prince’s popularity would only grow during his absence over the next nine-hundred-plus years. Therefore, the King had asked his beloved uncle to deal with the oblivious usurper. Quietly, speedily, and discreetly.

The Royal Overlord, being a loyal subject, had immediately set about godspeaking an anthro band of hunters with the task. Had even provided a shuttle so they could set up camp as close as possible to the Zone 7 Experiment Group without giving any cause for suspicion. He’d spoken to them about the evils of the Group 7 wolves and had told them to not only attack the village of evil skin-shedders, but that they also should take the red eye of the blue “serpent demon.” He’d told them this eye had much power, and the warrior who captured it would possess immortality.

Complete smoke, but Damianos could easily see how a species whose lifespan lasted barely as long as a drakkon hibernation could be compelled to such an act.

As soon as the Second Prince announced his unexpected arrival outside the glacier station, the Royal Overlord had godspoken his anthros to the Zone 7 Glacier Lab to lie in wait.

But the hunters never reported back. And though the Royal Overlord had some hope of using another set of godspoken hunters to attempt another assassination, the Zone 7 observation camera had quite suddenly shut down. A few days later, the Prince of Drakkon sent him a message stating that the female anomaly he’d been meant to deliver had gone into heat. He had given her to the Group 7 lupins, per protocol, and unfortunately, she had not survived the mating.

This was even more unfortunate for the Royal Overlord because it meant he wouldn’t have another opportunity to use his godspoken hunters to kill the Prince—especially without a functioning camera to track his movements beyond the glacier.

“He made no mention of the attack?” Damianos asked, his flame consternating with black.

“He did not. The offline camera also went without mention. When I sent him another message about no longer having eyes in his zone, he said he was aware of the problem and would fix it anon. But anon has yet to come.”

The camera was of little surprise to Damianos. Things went here as they went upon his home planet. Those who did not understand the technology remained at the mercy of those who did. And if they attuned their powerful antennae to their fire planet at this very moment, they would most likely pick up the static of many an irked drakkon complaining likewise about the universally slow technical drakkon’s failure to fix their technical problems.

“Your first mistake was using food to do a drakkon’s job, Blue Father. I care not for the new king myself, but I am also not so deluded by his brother. I will pay him a visit, and finish the job your godspoken meat could not.”

“But this you cannot do, Blue Son.”

Damianos’ flame chilled at his father’s words. Little did he like being told what he could or could not do, and as one of the largest drakkon in living history, few drakkon dared do so. “And what would stop me?” he demanded of his father, the one drakkon in the position to question his decisions.

“The King asked us for discretion. If the Prince is found killed by another drakkon’s roar, on a mission led by the King’s most trusted advisor, there will be questions. It could come back to you. To us!”

Damianos’ passed his father’s argument over his cooled flame and found it to be fireproof. He was right, blast him. Never mind Damianos could easily best the princeling. They’d be put on a trial they could not be sure of winning if they returned to Drakkon without him. But if they didn’t complete this secret mission, the King’s retribution would be severe, but not swift.

This was another reason the lower classes roared for The Second Prince, even before he left the planet. His flame burned ever dark blue and neutral. Partly, it was said because he’d been raised away from his father and brother. On the other side of the planet. While his brother, the current King still had the doctor who attended his dead mother’s birth locked away in a dungeon over two-thousand years later, many drakkon believed The Second Prince incapable of such torture.

Damianos, however, was not of the lower class. And moreover, he didn’t necessarily believe his cousin fit to lead simply because he didn’t share his brother’s penchant for torture. And perhaps most importantly, he’d rather not have his father in the position of either murdering or be murdered. The old drakkon vexed him so, yet he was still family. But how could they complete this mission without being found out?

“Why should the Royals have this power over us? I am the strongest drakkon our planet has ever known, yet here I sit, subject to the whims of a spoiled king. And unable to protect my own father’s life.”

In a sudden blaze of rage, Damianos took the human at his side by the hair and flung him across the room. There came the sickening rip of skin as the male’s hair and scalp detached from his skull. But the anthro’s pitiful screams lasted less than a wing beat. His neck snapped as soon as he hit the lab wall.

However, the action brought no relief to Damianos’ flame. Yes, he would feast upon a human before he returned to Zone 2, but the meal would be flavored with the bitter spice of subjugation.

Most drakkon would have found a way to excuse themselves from the large, flaming drakkon’s presence just then. But his father’s eyes only flicked down to the broken meat before returning to his son. He then stepped forward with no fear whatsoever in his flame.

In fact, he lowered his head and opened his glottis, so his voice carried an extra hiss as he said, “What you see as giving myself over to the spoiled king’s command, I see as an opportunity, Blue Son. Because while the temporary King of Drakkon trusts me above all others to carry this mission out, he should not trust my silence. I am fairly certain a spoiled king who has never had to work a day in his life for anything—including rule of our planet—will be unable to outwit the younger brother of a former king, one who is many times craftier than either his brother or his nephew. In fact, I’m fairly certain when we return it will somehow come out that the King was behind his brother’s death. And I am fairly certain he will be deposed. I am also fairly certain, in his permanent absence, the country will happily accept the next drakkon in line to the throne. Not myself, as I’ve aged out of the crown. But my son. A great hunter. A cousin, and loyal ally to the Second Prince. Someone who can say without shift of flame that he had absolutely no hand in the Prince’s death. I am fairly certain you, my Blue Son, will be the greatest king Drakkon has ever known. As you can see, there are many things I am fairly certain of. But there is only one thing I am fully certain of: if you wish to assume your rightful place as King of Drakkon, you must learn to control that temper of yours. And you must come up with a solution that will make what I am fairly certain of an absolute certainty.”

Damianos gave his father a sharp look. King of Drakkon. He would never have guessed his father had such plans within him. But yes, it made sense. Their family was strong. Well connected. They could guide the planet forward in ways neither a spoiled prince nor his more even-tempered brother ever could.

Many emotions sparked his fire as Damianos considered his father’s words: anger, surprise, pride, contempt. But in the end, his fire settled, burning a steady blue-tinted orange.

Resolve. Determination. Both flames burned inside Damianos as he announced, “I see your point, Blue Father. And I have a plan. It will take but two solar cycles to complete, and at the end of it, I will be in position to become King of Drakkon.

With that, Damianos relayed the plan to his father, who flamed with approval upon hearing it unfold.

As it would turn out, Damianos was right about his plan rendering him King of Drakkon. But little did the Royal Huntmaster know how imperfectly his plan would unfold.