Waking up from his nap without Callum near all but sent Sol Regem into a panic.

He woke up slow, idly stretching his senses outwards to check the room around him sleepily. It took him a long moment to realize that something was wrong, that he couldn't hear Callum;s heart or breath and that his scent was stale in the air that shoved all sleepiness from his head and he was instantly alert.

His head shot up, his smallest set of horns banging on the side of the wall in his haste causing him to snarl in irritation before swinging his head to and fro, searching without sight for the small boy. An alarmed warble leaving his chest, calling out with a high pitched chirping noise. No answer.

Hauling himself to his feet, Sol Regem limped to the entrance of the room and scented the ground. His brow narrowed at the stench of moon primal magic, Callum must have snuck off with that elf hatchling again.

He tried his best to swallow his irritation and worry. It wasn't necessarily that Sol Regem disliked Callum making friends, he didn't really care to be honest, but the fact that he continued to sneak off without at least telling the archdragon where he was going. That Sol Regem was not aware of exactly where he had gone or when he had come back.

The boy seemed far too young to be wandering off by himself, accompanied by a friend or no. Rayla, he only knows her name because Callum won't shut up about her, is only a year older than Callum and his understanding of human and elves development is sorely lacking but neither child seems old enough to be alone without supervision.

With Callum's luck he might just trip and fall straight off the Spire.

The thought sends an intense stab of anxiety through his chest and he has to fight against the urge to roar for Callum to come back to him this instant. But he refrains… just barely. He imagines if Zubeia were next to him right now she would be proud of his restraint.

Nonetheless, it is almost time for Zubeia's time with Callum and the sun drake needs to find the boy before then. He is annoyed that they did not get to finish their lesson on solar flares and eclipses but it can wait for tomorrow, he will just have to work the boy twice as hard to make up for the lost time today.

With a sigh, he sets off to find Callum. Following the scent trail that leads further down the spire and towards the 'guard dorms.

A patrol of elves pass him and Sol Regem calls out to them, "Dragonguard, have you seen Callum?" he asks.

The elves share glances before a sunfire elf speaks up. "Last I heard him and Rayla was near the royal quarters playing, my lord." he explains

Sol Regem nods and turns around to travel back up the Spire, pausing after a moment and calling out a soft "Thank you," behind him to the patrol. On his spiraling ascension back up the tower he wonders what in the world took over him to thank the elf guard. It was their job to serve the dragons, after all. During his reign he would have never even thought of thanking his guard, so why…

Before he can think on it any more he hears the sound of Callum laughing and follows the sound to find him and that elf girl chasing each other around the hall outside of the royal chambers. Just as the patrol had said.

A clicking noise ricochets around the cage of his ribs, announcing his presence to the two children.

"Sol!" Callum calls out happily, "You're up! Hey, you'll never guess what I found! I found an elf in a m-"

"Come, Callum. We must continue your lessons," Sol Regem calls out to the boy, interrupting him. Too annoyed to truly care what the human was about to say. Turning away and expecting him to follow. And he does, but the elf girl next to him reaches out and grabs his wrist, keeping him in place.

"You are working him too hard!" the little elfling shouts, surprising Sol Regem enough for him to pause in his stride.

"Rayla!" Callum hisses but the girl plows on despite the dragon's ward's warnings.

"He's really tired all the time and - and look at his hands! He's hurting and is exhausted, why can't you see that!?" Her accent overlays each of her words strongly and the archdragon is thrown. "Don't you care about him? All he does every day is practice magic! He isn't a dragon, you're - you are expecting too much from him! We aren't grownups!"

"Enough." he growls and Rayla immediately closes her mouth. "Callum, is this true?" he turns his attention to the human boy, who hunches in on himself and scuffs his boots on the polished stone floor.

"Callum." he barks when the boy stays quiet and cowers.

"I dunno, maybe?" he sounds almost strangled in his answer.

"Are we… am I working you too hard?" he questions.

Callum swallows, "I mean… I am really tired lately. But it's okay!"

"No, it isn't." Rayla grumbles.

Sol Regem sighs. "Why did you not tell me?"

Something heavy and slimy twists his stomach, guilt he realizes. He is guilty. It was hard to remember that Callum was not a dragon sometimes, he sounded and smelled like a dragon hatchling afterall and without sight Sol Regem that fact often slipped his mind. Humans were fragile, delicate. They could not withstand what dragon hatchlings could and the archdragon cursed himself for taking advantage of Callum's timid nature and forcing him to go beyond his limits.

They knew nothing about Callum's magic. Did not know where the power came from, since he was not connected to a primal source. It could be taking from something far more fragile, like his life source, and if… if Sol Regem pushed him too far who knows what could happen.

"I don't… know. I didn't want to bother you," Callum whispered.

Sol Regem let out a harsh breath of flame, "Callum, you have to tell me when it is too much. I don't…" I don't know how to tell when it's too much.

The boy lets out a draconic whimpering noise that all but breaks his heart and shuffles closer to Sol Regem. The gold drake bows his head down and he feels Callum rest his forehead against the soft scales of his snout. A comforting rumble vibrates through the archdragon and Callum responds with his own rumble, though much smaller and higher pitch.

"How would you like to go down to the ground to play?" Sol Regem asks Callum gently.

"How would we get down?" Callum wonders, tugging at the old drake's beard.

"Flying,"

The human looks up at him, "You're still hurt though!"

"I am healing well, besides," he tells Callum with a smile, "it would be good to stretch my wings."

"Can Rayla come?" the boy asks hopefully.

Sol Regem hesitates, "We will have to ask her parents next time we go, okay?" Callum is slightly disappointed, but says goodbye to Rayla who doesn't seem to mind the early departure and the two step out onto the landing balcony.

It is here that Callum hesitates before climbing onto Sol Regem, and steps back with a draconic whimper.

"Hey," the gold dragon soothes, turning his head to nuzzle at the boy, "I will never let you fall again, I promise." he whispers to the boy. Callum takes a few deep breaths before nodding his head using Sol Regem's smallest horn as a handhold to haul himself on top of the drake's head.

"Okay… I'm ready," Callum whispers, burying his face into the prime's scales.

As gently as he can, Sol Regem takes off into a gentle glide. Spiraling wide down near the base of the spire, it takes longer than what is necessary but the archdragon is willing to spend the time for Callum's comfort. Before long his talons touch on soft grass and he hunches down close to the ground so that his burden can climb off easily.

"Let's play a game!" Callum suggested when he slid off the side of his neck and lands on the soft green grass. Sol Regem lifted his head to turn towards the human, with a frown. Play was a very important part of a young drake's development, he knew this well, but the old dragon was… reluctant.

It had been hundreds of years since he had - played. And even then that play had consisted of brawling with Avizandum, and Sol Regem very much doubted he could initiate that sort of game to Callum.

"What do you want to play?" Sol Regem sighed.

Callum thought about it for a moment, "Tag!" he finally decided. Sol Regem thought about it, tag did help condition oneself towards predator and prey mentality and the drake supposed it would be a good exercise nonetheless and hauled himself to his feet.

"Alright," Sol Regem growled and bowed down in a play crouch with a rumble, making Callum squeal and turn tail and run. The old dragon grinned and gingerly chased after the boy, constantly aware of just how much bigger he was then Callum and just how easily an accident could happen.

His movements were deliberately slow (despite running at a full sprint Sol Regem could catch up to Callum in less then a stride if he wanted to) but that wasn't part of the game and the drake did not mind the relatively slow pace of the chase.

"You're it," Sol Regem growled lowly as he nudged Callum in the back, causing him to stumble a few steps.

Callum panted and began to chase after the dragon who danced away from the boy with ease, thanks to his panting and growling Sol Regem could easily pinpoint where Callum was and cheekily avoided him. Feeling particularly mischievous, he gathered his limbs underneath him and leaped straight over Callum without even spreading his wings, the ground trembling underneath him when he landed. Turning with a grin, tail waving behind him as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"No fair!" Callum whined, panting heavily.

Sol Regem crouched and began to paw at the boy, "Life isn't fair," he said, "If you ever have an advantage over an opponent, always take it. There is no honor if you're dead."

"It's against the rules!" Callum whined, apparently not caring about his words, trying to grab onto the dragon's talon that hovered above his head.

"We did not assign any rules to this game," Sol Regem told him with a smirk, gently pushing the boy to the ground with a deadly sharp talon. He did not expect him to fall down so hard and jerked back in alarm as Callum made a small hissing sound followed by a whimper.

Alarmed, Sol Regem bowed his head down to sniff at him in hopes to scent if he had accidentally injured him. His worry was quickly replaced by amused annoyance when Callum shot to life once he had hovered close enough and leaped onto the top of his snout with a cry of "Got you!"

He raised his head slightly, Callum still clinging to the soft skin of his nose and giggling madly, and shook his head gently in a playful attempt to get him off. "You little brat," he couldn't help the smile from pulling at his mouth though.

"You just said that there are no rules!" Callum was still laughing, apparently ever so proud of himself for tricking the dragon.

"That I did," Sol Regem said with a smile, lowering himself back down so Callum's feet touched the ground and he could let go of his snout safely.

As soon as Callum's feet touched the ground he shot off like an arrow. Sighing fondly, the archdragon followed.

Later that day after the grueling flight back up to the top of the spire, Sol Regem had allowed Callum to go and play with Rayla calling that lessons for tomorrow and until the human's hands had healed would be stopped. Guilt still tugged at his gut but he hoped this made up for his oversight in some way.

He lays out at the very top of the spire, sunbathing in the evening light. His gold scales soak in the rays greedily and Sol Regem sighs at the warmth.

Suddenly, he smells someone familiar approaching and lifts his head. "I would have thought you would have sought me out sooner," he tells the dragon king who practically shuffles awkwardly closer.

"Apologies, my friend. You always seemed so busy with… the human," the sky archdragon admits nearly sheepishly. Sol Regem lets out a puff of smoke and lifts his tattered wings closer to himself in invitation for the other drake to settle next to him.

"It is… good to see you again," Avizandum says softly as he lays down on the smooth stone, his soft fur brushing against Sol Regem's scales, he can feel his icey eyes burn into his scales.

"I would say the same but…" Sol Regem can't help the grin that pulls at his mouth, feeling particularly cheeky.

Next to him, Avizandum snorts, "You are well then?"

Sol Regem hums, "Relatively," is all he says on the matter.

"I'm relieved," the storm king admits, "Hopefully Lunyx will stop pestering me about you now," he tells Sol Regem with a smile in his words.

Now it is the gold dragon's turn to snort, "Oh?"

"Yes," Avizandum laments, "Told me you chased him off when he tried checking on you the first dozen times and thought for sure that I knew what the hell you were doing near the Moonstones."

"I was guarding them, the moonstones are the easiest way into Xadia down south." Sol Regem grumps. "Any word on Aecoragrim?" he wonders.

Avizandum lets out a humming growl, after a moment he speaks "Tidebound elves have last seen him to the southeast, near the Mokutan Islands. He only travels out of the ocean to visit Lunyx these days. Does he still have it out for you?"

"I haven't seen him in five hundred years, but you know how Aecoragrim is, he is not one to forget a grudge." Sol Regem says, lifting his face to feel the warmth of the sun on his scars.

"Still, I would tread carefully, my friend." Avizandum cautions and Sol Regem nods his head. In his prime he could barely overpower the ocean archdragon; blinded and weak he stands no chance if Aecoragrim decides to hunt him down.

They sit in companionable silence for a long time after that. The storm king hesitantly lays his head down next to Sol Regem and the archdragon stiffens ever so slightly before gingerly resting his head on the dragon king's neck, burying his nose into the soft fur there and practically going limp with something like relief warm in his chest.

It is… nice. To share the same space with his closest friend once again. The two archdragons lay curled together like nestmates, lazing under the afternoon sun and Sol Regem feels content.

He didn't realize how much he had craved physical contact until that moment and soaks up the sky drake's warmth greedily and cannot stop the purr that rumbles deep in his chest. Avizandum answers with his own grumbling purr that sounds more like rolling thunder than anything else. It is a relief like nothing else to lazily drift into another nap with the smell of rain and lightning filling his senses.

Together they lay until the final rays of sun dipped below the horizon and they did not move until a very amused Zubeia came across them and said that it was time for them to go inside.

Viren closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. In front of him is a desk stacked high with dusty old tomes falling apart at the seams and half-rotted scrolls dug out from the farthest depths of the capitol's libraries.

Tireless weeks of scouring through every ancient text the kingdom had available and finally he has found something that just might work.

The spell itself is simple enough, Viren even has everything the dark magic needs to activate in his secret study, it is the process leading up to the spell itself that gives him pause. Creating a relative plain on a map so that the readings were accurate, however… took a great deal of math and patience on his part. But after three days of careful equations and triple checking all of his work he was optimistic.

Now, all he needed was something of Callum's, a lock of hair preferably. Easier said than done. Apparently, the half prince's sheets had been changed the day before he left and no locks of hair could be found, especially after almost three weeks having passed since his disappearance.

Personally, Viren believed the boy was probably already dead. Whatever… creature the good general claimed to have found tracks of had probably long since eaten the boy. He wonders if that would have any effect on the tracking spell he planned on casting.

Nonetheless, he promised Harrow he would do everything in his power to find the King's stepchild and Viren did not make it a habit of breaking promises, especially to Harrow. He was a man of his word, if nothing else.

Before now, Viren did not have much of an opinion on Callum. He was a shy, timid boy who Viren barely took notice of beyond concern for young Ezran's claim to the throne. He was only doing this for Harrow. Always for Harrow.

The king's mood had rapidly deteriorated in the past weeks and he had continuously been pushing away his duties to watch over Ezran instead of ruling the kingdom. As a father himself, Viren could somewhat understand the mindset. If something ever happened to Soren or… or Claudia he does not know what he would do. He supposes Harrow is taking the loss of both wife and stepchild as well as can be expected, but Viren is starting to become concerned for both his dear friend's wellbeing and for the wellbeing of Katolis.

With a sigh, he gathers all of the supplies he will need and steps out of his dungeon to go prepare.

He finds Harrow in his chambers a couple of hours later, looking out the window and at the sunset. Pip perched on his forearm, running the back of his fingers along his songbird's flank. The bird's head turns completely around to study Viren with sharp yellow eyes. He idly notices the bald patches on its chest from the bird plucking its own feathers out, dumb thing.

"My king," Viren bows his head in greeting, hearing Ezran coo in his crib in the corner.

"Have you found anything?" Harrow doesn't take his eyes off the sunset.

"... Yes. I have discovered a spell I believe might work," Viren says, "I have everything ready, I just need a lock of - Callum's hair."

Harrow turns his head slightly in thought, transferring Pip to one of the songbird's many perches and walks over to the nightstand, pulling out a familiar red piece of fabric. Viren idly remembers it was a gift from Harrow himself the first time he had met Callum, the boy had hardly ever taken it off after that.

The king gingerly handles the scarf, unfolding it as if it were made of glass, his sharp blue eyes searching. He pauses as he finds a strand of brown hair caught in between the stitching of the soft fabric and pulls it out with a thumb and forefinger.

"Will this work?" His voice is hoarse and deep as he presents the hair to Viren.

The advisor takes the offered hair with great care and nods.

The two men travel to Viren's more… public office, where he has already set everything up. A highly detailed map of the continent is splayed across his entire desk, smooth rocks weigh down the map on either corner. Underneath the paper, Viren has already carved intricate symbols into the wood and various bowls and canisters are crowded along the edges of the desk.

"I was able to find two tracking spells in my research, I believe this one will have more… accurate results." Viren says, closing the door behind Harrow. "If all goes correctly, the spell should show us exactly where Callum is on this map." he gestures to the desk.

Despite everything, Viren can see the curiosity peak in Harrow's eyes. The man was always so fascinated with magic, despite his foolish hesitancy towards dark magic. Viren hoped one day he could make Harrow understand that dark magic wasn't something to be disgusted by, it was power. And power was everything.

"Get started then," Harrow nods, stepping back against the far wall with his arms crossed. Viren thinks this is the first time he has looked like a king since Sarai's passing.

Viren nods, turning his attention to his desk and begins to pick up the various supplies, mixing them into a wooden bowl with a dark symbol carved into the bottom. The main ingredient in this spell is selkie bone dust and moonstrider eye, both very rare. It would be a great loss if the spell did not work. He begins to chant the incantation, his eyes bleeding black as the candles in the room dim. In the corner, he is vaguely aware of Harrow's icy stare but keeps his focus on the dark magic that pumps through his veins like black sludge. The exhilarating feeling of power threatens to pull a smile on his face and he relishes in the feeling for a moment before continuing with the spell.

With dark stained hands, he picks up the strand of hair and drops it into the bowl, a dark violet cloud plooms up from the bowl before fading out. Still chanting he takes a handful of the powder within the bowl, taking a deep breath he blows the dust out onto the map splayed before him. The purple powder hovers over the paper a moment and then sinks into the map a moment later, leaving a strange sheen over the map.

Then… nothing.

The candles brighten as the spell is complete, leaving stark silence. Harrow frowns, "Was that it?"

"I… yes," Viren flounders.

The king pushes himself off of the wall and towards the map, "There's nothing there," he points out, something dangerous and scared in his voice.

"Yes, well there is a possibility that it didn't work -"

"Why wouldn't it have worked?" Harrow demands.

"I-I don't know. I may have performed the spell wrong or… or it didn't work because Callum is-"

"Don't." Harrow hisses and Viren steps back at the downright dangerous gleam in Harrow's blue eyes that seem to glow with anger and pain the likes of which Viren has never seen.

Viren swallows, "My… my king, maybe it is best if you try to accept the fact that your… ward maybe isn't coming back…"

"I said DON'T!" Harrow suddenly shouts, making Viren flinch and watch helplessly as his friend punches the wall with a loud slam. The king flexes his bleeding hand with a snarl, "You talk about him as if he isn't my son. He is. He is mine. My boy, my son, and he is missing! Don't - don't talk about him as if he is gone, because he isn't! I know he isn't..." Harrow grit his teeth, eyes shining and Viren felt helpless.

Then, something caught his eye and he turned to look at the map. A light shines on the middle northeast of the map, far in Xadia territory. "Harrow," he called and the king's head snapped up. Viren and Harrow lean in to look closer, as he processes where the marker is Viren closes his eyes and lets out a harsh sigh.

"He is at the Storm Spire," he says, almost hesitantly. He looks from the map and across at Harrow, who hasn't said a word and is staring down at the map, his face unreadable. A long silent moment passes before Viren can gather the words to speak once again, it has been a long time since the king of Katolis has been so frightening.

Abruptly, Harrow pushes off from the desk and stalks towards the door.

"My king..?" Viren calls hesitantly.

Harrow turns, his eyes icey cold, "Rally the banners, call the Pentarchy to order.

We are getting my son back."

The plot finally truly begins! It only took me like... forty thousand words lol A lot of you guys saw this coming and ahh I am so excited but also nervous! I have so many cool ideas planned and hopefully, you guys will like where this is going!

I never personally thought of Viren as a... like pure evil villain. Sure he is a manipulator and a gaslighter and all that but I do think he genuinely cared for Harrow. Just like how I don't think Avizandum and Sol Regem are really villains either and I just had to add a cuddle session between two giant lizards because I am soft okay don't judge meeeee

Sorry for the long wait and such a short chapter as well I just couldn't find the motivation and I always ended up distracted whenever I would sit down to write... don't worry I still love this story and am not quitting it I'm just being bleh right now lol

I hope you guys liked it and please tell me what you think! Reviews really do help with my motivation and I would love to hear what you guys think of the story and characters so far! Please stay healthy and safe! :)