It was just a few hours after breakfast when Charles Rayleigh received a message. The face of the second prince appeared in the air just in front of him. His features weren’t so well defined through the projection, but it was good enough. But for a member of royalty to appear like that, and through the Quartz Screen.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Charles asked.

He continued stamping on papers as he greeted the guest. A short glance was all the second prince deserved. Nothing more, nothing less. It was the bare minimum.

“It's an emergency, lord Rayleigh.”

“Oh? And what of it?”

“Your family would be the most suitable to deal with this issue.”

“Hmm. Perhaps so. What kind of emergency.”

“There’s a dragon.”

His short statement was enough to raise eyebrows. Charles turned his head upwards for once, and met the second prince’s eyes. Pushing his documents aside, the duke stood up.

“What do you mean, a ‘dragon’? Their migratory cycle should be over by now.”

“That’s what we thought too. But a party of adventurers found a dragon’s nest in the Revinougt Mountains. And they have reported it to be sleeping, and of a new species.”

“Huh? Most strange. When did they sight it?” Charles said.

“The party spotted it on their travels just a few days ago.”

“And? You want my family to kill it?”

“You’re quick on the uptake.”

“If I refuse?”

“Its orders from the emperor.”

“Shit.”

“Yeap. Good luck, lord Rayleigh.”

“I’ll take my men.”

The screen flickered out of existence, and the face of the second prince disappeared. Charles rang the hung that sat at the corner of his table, and a cacophony of similar ringings joined in past the door. His, was just to pass the message. The guards outside would pass it along through bells of their own, and each had specific timings to their rings. That was how servants knew to differentiate between family members calling. A short while after, a knock came at his door.

“Come in,” the duke said.

“Pardon my intrusion,” said the butler, stepping in as the guards opened the door, “Yes, your grace?”

“Call the rest of the family here.”

“Very well, your grace.”

The butler backed out from the duke’s office. And shortly after, his two daughters were in front of him, and Marianne sat on her own personal seat.

“This is rare. I was training,” said Elise.

“Yeah. I’m trying to study.”

“Now, let your father speak.”

“Thank you Marianne.”

“So? What’s happening?” Elise asked.

“There have been reports of a dragon.”

“And the emperor needs us to kill it?” Estelle provided her own theory.

“Yes, very smart Estelle. Very smart. And you’re coming along with me. Each one of you are worth at least a hundred, maybe over, men.”

“Oh, I’m definitely going. It's not everyday that you get to fight a dragon.”

“So am I. I’m not going to let my children and husband just go off on their own.”

“Then, Estelle. Please stay here,” Charles said.

“I was planning to. Someone needs to take care of this estate while all of you are gone.”

“Then it's settled. How many men should we bring along?”

“You’re asking us? When we’ve never even fought a dragon?”

“Hm. Estelle, do you remember anything from the history books?”

“Uhhhhhh...”

She tapped her temple, tucking her hair behind her ear. Estelle closed her eyes, and tilted her head. True, she did read a lot of books, but would they even be credible? Would the history books even have records of fighting a dragon?

“What species is it? Some types are more aggressive than others.”

“I don’t know. Neither did the adventurers that found it. They say that it's a new species.”

“Let’s talk about strategy then. How do you want to fight it?”

“It's sleeping.”

“Say that first, next time. You can’t give me information when I ask for it. Give me all the information you have at hand. If it’s sleeping, then couldn’t you just go up to it and stab it a few times?”

“But the issue is if it wakes up.”

“To be on the safe side then, I’d suggest you bring at least 50 troops. And at least 5 masters, in case it wakes up. Best case, you’re able to kill it whilst it sleeps and get away scot free.”

“Thank you Estelle. We’ll leave as soon as possible. The early we get there, the better. Get ready.”

After a brief conversation with the butler, he left his study. The good thing about being a Rayleigh was that no one questioned his statements. ‘Tell the troops to muster up. 50 of them. And at least 5 masters too. We’ll need supplies for everyone, enough for at least a week. As soon as possible’, meant just that.

Lines of men in light armour were assembled several hours later. Tired servants loaded packed meals onto wagons. Charles looked over the men, wearing nothing but his military uniform. Armour barely helped. Elise was beside him, and Marianne was too. Only Marianne, the one without the Rayleigh’s blood, had any armour on at all. Estelle waited outside with them, though she wore her military attire as well despite not going.

“Actually, I’m surprised that you’re going along, mother,” Estelle said.

“Oh hahaha. You didn’t see me at my peak then. I used to be an adventurer, you know? I journeyed with your father to faraway lands.”

“Aww, that’s in the past. We were stronger then,” Charles said, not hiding his blushing face.

“Very interesting. I’ll look through the logs then,” said Estelle, rubbing her chin.

Her mother seemed elated at her suggestion. She nodded her head, held Charles’ hand. Their hands intertwined, and they took each other in an embrace.

“Alright, flirting’s over. It's time to go now,” said the scholarly sister.

The couple chuckled, and turned back to face the troops. They stood ready for commands, and packages filled the wagons. They had to go, now. Every second they wasted meant a second closer for the dragon to wake up.

“Everyone!”

The duke’s great voice exploded towards the troops. It really was loud. When he raised his sword high up in the air, the family plugged their ears. The lines of men stamped and saluted, all in one synchronised unit. No matter how many times they’ve seen it, only Charles could believe it.

“We march! To the Revinought Mountains!”

***

Quite a few uneventful days had passed since the Rayleigh family left on their expedition, and an even larger number of days went by since the tiring royal ball. Francis laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling. With the windows open, a small breeze intruded. Summer was the season of sweat, and Francis was particularly sticky that night. But he closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. And somehow he did.

The next time he woke up was when his head knocked against something. His body ached all over, and he looked around. Quite obviously, he was no longer in his bedroom.

He tried to soothe his potential concussion by rubbing the wound with his hands, and when he tried to move it, chains resisted. His hands were restrained behind his back, and he looked out from the back of a carriage.

“The mixed blood is awake, I see,” an old, elderly man said from behind him.

“Where the hell am I.”

“Feisty boy. Fear not, I’m just bringing you somewhere else.”

“Yeah, no fucking shit. Where the hell am I going?”

“Quite rude as well, I see. The mixed blood is interesting. Why not just calm down? You can’t do anything anyway.”

“I could just jump out.”

“You’re chained here. You’ll break your arms, with your weak frail body.”

Francis turned around to meet his captor. Guiding the horses, was an old man. Bald, with a long grey beard. In loose robes, he looked small, especially with that hunched back of his. Next to him, was a young boy. Light red hair, and a pure face.

“Three, entertain the guest.”

“Ha?! ‘Guest’ you say? How am I a guest when I’m chained up?!”

“By Yhanion’s words,” the old man seemed to curse as he whipped around.

Placing his aged, wrinkly hands on Francis’ body, a pale blue light scattered out from his fingertips. Darkness started to plight the mixed blood’s mind, as he squinted to keep glaring at the elderly man. The boy meanwhile, seemed to try to help the captured, but not before an artificial unconsciousness knocked him out.

When he next woke up, he was in a dark room. Except for a lamp with no fuel source in sight, there was nothing else that illuminated the area. He tried to move, but his arms were up in the air. A pair of handcuffs hung from the ceiling, and his hands dangled from the handcuffs.

“So you’re up then.”

The door creaked open. He stepped in, with the boy following in his footsteps. The old man rubbed his beard as he walked closer.

“How did you do it?” Francis asked.

“I used a lot of magic to bring you out. That knight of yours had incredible mental fortitude. It took so much mana to make her fall asleep.”

“What do you plan to do with me? I don’t have any money or power.”

“You have power. My job is to bring it out of you, mixed blood.”

Francis spat at the cold floor in front of him. The boy that stood behind the mage held his head low. Cruel laughter filled the room as the magi watched.

“So, who are you?”

“Rafelgo. Of the Arcane Tower.”

“Is that so.”

There were no windows in the room. Of course, that position was in no way comfortable. And he couldn’t even judge how long it had been from the aches in his muscles due to the journey there.

“How’d you find me?”

“Oh, your blood was useful you see.”

“When the hell did you get my blood?!”

“Oh, Three! You were so successful. Extra food for you tonight.”

That creepy old man patted the boy’s head. He squirmed under his touch. But, the mage didn’t let up. Instead, he pressed down harder.

“What the hell are you planning to do?”

“Alright, stop yapping. I’ll get started.”

Rafelgo pulled a lever hidden within the darkness of the room. A mechanism cranked as he was released from his handcuffs from the ceiling. The mage grabbed onto his strained wrists and pulled.

“You’re way too light to be a human.”

“Unhand me!”

It burned, surprisingly. Enclosed on all sides by walls, it made for a great place for echoes to reverberate. And, though Rafelgo’s hand had long left his cheek, the sounds of an angry old man slapping his specimen echoed.

“Will you shut up?”

“Master!” the boy’s shout echoed.

“Ow, ow.”

He was not used to physical violence. To think of it, ever since the imposter became Francis Rayleigh, that was the first time someone had actually harmed him. The wound seared, as though a red hot plate of metal just touched him.

Rafelgo transferred his captive not too far away. It turned out that a small, old, wooden bed was hidden within the darkness behind him. There were four hollowed out metal cylinders that sat on every corner. The insane mage strapped Francis down, with his limbs all in a corner of their own.

“Don’t do this master...” the small boy whimpered.

The mage’s response was simple. A swift elbow met the boy’s face, just out of the corner of Francis’ eyes. The bed itself wasn’t comfortable at all, and that wasn’t even factoring in his forced shackling.

“What the hell do you even want?” Francis spat out.

“A few years ago, I received a little something, see. It contained the logs of experiments that were conducted on a mixed blood, like you, see. Now, with your kind being so, so rare, the logs are old. Terribly old, in fact. But, the information inside it was truly amazing, With your mana circuitry, there is unlimited power at the fingertips.”

“So you want to become a dragon? Is that it?”

“Gods no. Why would I, a mage of the Arcane Tower, want to become a monster like that? The power of the dragons is passed down through Rayleigh blood. But mix in the blood of a human, oh! Then the possibilities are near endless! You mixed blood! Are you happy to be the pioneer, the sole reason why we can advance?”

“By experimenting on me?!”

“Sacrifices must always be made. Everything has a cost. And it just so happens that the cost is you, dear mixed blood.”

“And what if it fails! Haven’t you thought about that?”

The only response Rafelgo gave was a cruel laughter. He moved closer, to inspect his goods. Looking over the arms, legs, and body of the captive. And finally, the face. In his mind, he seemed to reach a conclusion, as signified by his words.

“If it fails? To the black market you go. There are many people who want a noble as a slave. And furthermore, a Rayleigh? You’ll fetch a hefty price.”

“Not even ransom?”

“Ransom... If I held you for ransom, your family will surely hunt me down when I appear to collect the money. That’s unsafe. And I wish to avoid that fate.”

He clapped his hand to end that conversation there. The look on his face changed to glee. Wheeling out a table from far away, he looked down on his captive.

“Can’t we keep talking?”

Francis didn’t have any intention of speaking to that man for long. But unfortunately, neither did the mage. He ignored the captive’s words, and fiddled around with his tools and apparatus. Still, for his own sake, Francis had to delay it for as long as possible. Every single second counted. If he managed that, surely, surely, Katalina would come. His knight would’ve noticed his disappearance, and even went up against the mage. With only that bit of light within the dark room, he had to cling onto it.