Master Archmage Corwin allowed the guard to knock in his stead. As the crowned Prince and heir to the kingdom of Daanlin, he was well accustomed to such formalities in the palace. In fact, it had taken almost his entire first year as an apprentice to break the habit of waiting for others to take care of such menial tasks. Since then, he often complained, though privately, at such pointless ceremony, listing it as one of many reasons he had no desire to inherit the throne.
Today, he didn't complain. Today he was too distracted. By theories, fears, and frantically woven justifications for both.
A servant opened the door from the other side and bowed low to the Prince, who swept past without acknowledging the man. Instead, he began to bow to the king, only to pause at the monarch's grin. King Connar fingered the steel crown hanging from his belt, and with a long-suffering sigh, Corwin dropped all formality and addressed his brother plainly, "These are it? Every volume?"
Standing before an ornate bookshelf encased in glass, Connar nodded, though his smile faltered as he said, "Every library the kingdom over should have exact copies, Corwin. What do you expect to find here? Something the magic was unable to replicate?"
Corwin took his place at his brother's side, eyeing the shelf with its magically preserved journals on display. They were thousands of years old. Over five thousand to be exact... he thought, then answered the question with a shake of his head, "I don't expect to find anything, which is exactly what I'm looking for."
"So you're looking for... nothing?" Connar asked with a chuckle.
Corwin forced his lips to tilt up in a grin, reciting, "You know there are gaps in the histories, missing volumes to Saint Giorgos' personal journals? I merely wish to confirm, with the original specimens, which dates are missing."
He squinted at the plaques below the books and tried to mentally will his brother to leave the questions at that. But though he was the greatest Mage on the material plane, Corwin could no more will his brother to curb his curiosity than he could will the man to stop breathing...
The king hummed, observing, "Such ancient history has never been of particular interest to you before. Why now? What missing volume are you interested in?"
And for the first time in his entire life, Corwin lied to his brother. His king. His hero... Weaving as much truth as he could into his explanation, Corwin shrugged, "With Wyrms raging across the countryside once more, I merely wish to gather everything I can from the man who slew them the first time."
As expected, Connar scowled at the explanation and even fingered his crown once more. Not since they were children did the royal brothers argue as much as they did now over the five dragons living somewhere, unchecked, in their kingdom.
Connar's wife and one true love, Queen Delia, thought the dragons should be allowed full citizenship and all the rights that honor would bestow. While his brother, his greatest advisor and the youngest Master Archmage in history, would prefer them slain. To prevent the inevitable destruction they would cause to people and property.
Corwin's argument was that the dragons had been enough of a threat that their god and ancestor, Saint Giorgos, had sought not only their extinction but the death of their gods. He'd swayed virtually all the lesser council of nobles and had most of the greater council holding their tongues on the subject. But the king himself, more influenced by his wife's misplaced compassion than he would ever admit, was undecided on the issue.
In the beginning, Connar had agreed to a compromise. They would capture the dragons, and hold them in the Mages Guild to determine how dangerous the abominations really were. But even that concession was stretched to uselessness with the defeat of the Warlock leaders.
Ever true to his word, the King had made a declaration that, though the dragons were still to be captured and held, they would have all past crimes forgiven once they surrendered themselves, and would only be held for five years, at most, before being released once more.
It didn't matter that all Warlocks -men and women who'd sold their souls and sanities to a primordial being of the outer planes- were destined to be executed under their oldest laws. Laws that predated the kingdom in most provinces. Nor did it matter that two of the dragons now lead what was left of the Warlock organization. The king had made a proclamation, and that was law.
The entire ordeal surrounding the Warlocks, dragons, and now even the magical storms popping up all over the kingdom, had been a major point of contention between the king and prince for the last four years. And it was only becoming more heated, as the team assembled to handle the issues seemed to be siding more and more with the dragons. One in particular...
Corwin sighed, whispering, "I don't wish to argue with you, brother. Not today." he tapped the glass between two books, and the missing dates between the two plaques, changing the subject, "At least one volume is missing here. I'll check with the Bank of Saint Tzibus, the Colosseum of Saint Bjarki, the Colleges of Saint Domhnall, and even my own Guild library for Saint Bede's records of the time..."
"And what-" but Connar cut himself off without finishing the question. "Nevermind, I don't wish to argue either." he waved a dismissive hand and turned his back on his brother.
Corwin thought a prayer of thanks to Saint Giorgos and left the study. He would check the organizations of Giorgos's companions, but it was all as pointlessly formal as the guard knocking for him.
Corwin already had what he needed... Found in possession of the Warlock leaders...
"It only further proves the danger of the dragons..." Prince Corwin recited to himself once more, "... that he would resort to such..."
***
