She opened the large doors with that key, and suddenly, they were all blinded by the vivid colored lights that shone from within.

“Holy... By a dragon’s b–”

Darsan coughed a bit, but he couldn’t stop staring at the vision in front of them. Cessilia was just as stunned.

An armory. They were standing at the doorway of a unique and very impressive armory. There were exactly twelve sets of armor, each of a different but vibrant color, presented with twice as many matching weapons around them, and other various pieces of equipment for battle. The most impressive thing about the armor, though, wasn’t the handicraft, how well-maintained they looked, or how effective they seemed. What had blinded them upon entering the room was actually the gorgeous, shining colors of a myriad of little beads covering them. Six sets of the armor were made for women, and the other six for men, all in different sizes. They were obviously bound by metallic or leather structures, but most of the armor, shields, and weapons’ magnificent colored parts were actually made of something unlike anything they had ever seen before.

Darsan screamed like an excited child and ran right into it, immediately going for the largest sword in store, amazed. He hadn’t even blinked once since the doors had been opened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, a wide smile stuck across his face. “Is that a freaking dragon claw? Look at the size of that beauty!”

He grabbed the sword and held it with both hands. The blade was so thick and large that although he held it with his hands in front of his belt, the tip of the sword was higher than his head. He swung the weapon for a test trial, and the simple gush of wind that went their way spoke volumes about the destructive force of that thing, paired with Darsan’s strength.

“Several of them, actually,” said Elder Olea. “That blade was created several decades ago by our ancestors, with the claws of a deceased dragon, like everything else in this room. All of these items are sacred to our people. We have never used them, and instead, we waited for the right people to come and use them.”

“It’s amazing...” muttered Naptunie.

Cessilia thought so too. She and Naptunie had naturally approached the two sets of armor closest to them. The one in front of Cessilia was clearly made for a woman, and what she had thought to be little beads were actually very small scales of a gorgeous gray-blue color. They were obviously polished and covered with some sort of shiny varnish, but it was the perfect alignment of hundreds of small scales that truly made that armor shine like a dragon’s skin under the sun.

“Are these... s-scales from a baby d-dragon?” asked Cessilia, confused.

“Oh, no,” said Elder Olea. “They come from an adult one, but we broke them down and reshaped them so we could create them into such armor. I say we, but I really mean our ancestors, who had found the techniques to use the scales, claws, and fangs of deceased dragons to create this precious armor. Those who still lived with the heirs of the Earth Dragon, before they moved to the west to conquer the present Dragon Empire. It has been centuries since the last piece here was produced. With the dragons gone, we could only treasure and keep them here. Our ancestors believed that there would come a day like this, when the true Dragon Masters would come back and need our help. I doubt they believed it would unfold in such a way, but the day has come indeed.”

“Why didn’t you use them for yourself?” asked Nana.

“Try to carry one,” chuckled Aglithia.

Nana frowned, a bit confused, but she tried to grab a piece that seemed to be an arm guard. Immediately, her expression changed, and she dropped the thing right away.

“It’s so heavy!”

“It is. Only someone as strong as a Dragon Master has the strength to carry such a weapon or piece of armor. Of course, our people could have done it too with a lot of training, but since there are so few of them, we chose to keep them for when the Dragon Masters would truly need it, and not risk damaging the precious, priceless pieces ourselves.”

“So... everything in here are weapons your ancestors m-made?”

“Yes, Princess Cessilia. All of it is here, in this room. It may not be much, but in times of war, this–”

“This is awesome!” suddenly shouted Darsan.

Right as they turned to look, they heard a terrible ruckus. Naptunie even jumped behind Cessilia, protecting her ears and hiding a bit. Cessilia, though, who was more used to this, sighed and looked at the mess.

Darsan was standing there with his eyes open wide, the sword still in his hands, and a pile of collapsed weapons, shattered bricks from the wall, and at least three or four of the precious sets of armor broken apart at his feet. There was a layer of dust still hanging in the air around him, and a round shield spinning, until it collapsed, loudly falling flat. An embarrassed silence followed.

“...I’m... very sorry about that.”

“Darsan...” sighed Cessilia.

She turned to Elder Olea, who looked like she was about to pass out from the shock.

“...Our precious armor!” shouted Aglithia.

“Can it be fixed?” asked Darsan, grimacing. “I promise I’ll find all the, uh... broken pieces...”

Cessilia rubbed her temples, embarrassed as well. Her brother was a walking disaster in confined spaces like this... This was precisely why he was banned from more rooms than he was allowed in at home. He was way too strong and couldn’t handle his strength well at times, especially when his enthusiasm got the better of him.

“I-... It’s fine,” grumbled Elder Olea, clearly still very upset. “Those are precious... They were meant for your family anyway, but please don’t break anymore!”

Nodding with guilt all over his face, Darsan put his sword against the wall. Sadly, though, the large blade slid right down before loudly collapsing onto the pile, making a bigger mess and breaking it even more. He sighed.

“Uh... Sorry about that too, I guess...”

Elder Olea was now sending daggers at him with her eyes. Cessilia hardly repressed a little laugh, despite her brother’s wrongdoings. Darsan was probably not exactly the kind of heroic Dragon Master they had admired and worshiped for decades...

“I-I’ll help you pick it up!”

To everyone’s surprise, Naptunie ran over to start gathering the fallen weapons. She pulled the smaller ones she could carry first, putting them back where they belonged, and gently instructed Darsan to grab this one or that one, so he could do it instead. Cessilia smiled. Not only had Naptunie managed to memorize where each piece belonged before the incident, but she was now managing things so that Darsan was carefully taking one piece at a time under her direction, obeying and following her every word. If she could manage Darsan, maybe Dran would finally get a bit tamer as well...

Cessilia turned to the two Cheshi women, as if the incident was a minor thing. The armor might have been incredibly precious to the Cheshi, but dragon scales were still just a small part left behind by some of her ancestors. The knowledge of how to craft these was probably more precious than the parts themselves.

“Th-thank you for helping us,” she finally said. “It must have b-been hard for your people, after all this t-time.”

“Not that hard,” Elder Olea shook her head, although her eyes were still watching Darsan. “In fact, those only rightfully belong to you, Princess Cessilia. Our real help will be our men, following you into the fight.”

“R-really?”

“We’re assembling them as we speak!” Aglithia nodded. “Father gave the orders already. Two hundred Cheshi assassins will be at your command!”

“...That’s it?”

They turned to Darsan, who immediately grimaced, probably remembering he should watch himself after breaking a third of the room...

“I-I mean, there’s a whole bunch of Yekaras out there,” he said. “They are warriors, and from what we heard, at least three times that!”

“That’s all we can offer,” replied Elder Olea. “Our clan is always prepared to survive, but not for an actual war. We are assassins and spies, not warriors. This won’t be any common war like before, either. As you know, the Yekara have already seized control of the Inner Capital.”

“What d-do you know exactly?” asked Cessilia.

“They corrupted a lot of the Royal Guards,” explained Aglithia. “Not only that, but we suspect they also hid a lot of the Kunu Tribe survivors, so they might have a lot more people on their side than what we first thought. Also, last night, they broke into the Pangoja’s residences and robbed them, claiming they had defied the King, and were arrested. We noticed they took a lot of money in and out of the Capital, though. We suspect they are preparing an army of mercenaries willing to fight for money, just like what happened when King Ashen fought his father.”

“They also threatened to burn down the houses of the people who resisted,” sighed Elder Olea. “They are still searching the houses, not only for you and your allies, my lady, but for people who could defy them, like the Royal Guards who refused to be corrupted, or the leaders of the other tribes.”

“Most tribes already barricaded themselves inside their houses, or had their leaders flee or hide. Sadly, most tribes won’t do a thing if there’s no one to guide them. The people of the Capital are terrified too. Many heard that King Ashen was heavily injured, but a lot are afraid that if he dies, the Yekara will impose their rule.”

“What did they say?” asked Naptunie, who had come back to Cessilia’s side. “What will they do to our people? What about my tribe?”

Aglithia turned to her with a sorry expression. She sighed, and slowly shook her head.

“They will make public executions,” said Aglithia. “They already arrested a lot of people, and from what our spies gathered, the Yekara will start executing them to scare anyone who’d try to oppose them. They want to keep control of the Inner Capital without a fight, and then aim for the Outer Capital and its surroundings.”