I yawn as I walk through the castle walls. The walls were adorned with paintings depicting noble riders who lived for many years. All are part of the royal bloodline. Sure, Riders are considered nobles, but royalty is different.

Continuing to walk down on a red silk carpet, I was heading to a meeting.

Goddess, I hate these meetings.

Looking at the cobblestone walls, I felt small shakes and tremors send dust crumbling. Approaching double doors, I pushed one open to reveal the war room.

There sat a massive obsidian table with eight obsidian chairs. Behind the chairs was an enormous opening that allowed dragons to enter. They were just as crucial to the meeting as their rider.

I saw six individuals sitting down, waiting for me, Kevlar, wherever he was.

"We have been waiting for you, Lord Commander." A woman in a dark black dress. The dress reached down to the floor, but the pale skin of her leg was exposed. Her long, silky black hair half covered her face, and her eyes were sharply shaped.

Her dragon was just as massive as mine; it extended its neck so its head was by her side, and its horns protruded down its jaw. Its black scales were riddled with battle scars as a single gash went down one of its eyes, leaving a lifeless pale eye in its socket.

"Lady Talia." I bowed politely, knowing her reputation within the Order. "Arne, Guimar, Evette, Dimmon, Joce. Sorry, it took me so long. Had to make sure the Princess was sent on her mission." I stood back up, approached one of the empty chairs, and sat down.

My dragon, Eldrid, found the hole behind my chair as she climbed inside. Her white scales sparkled from all the light within the war room.

"Now all we need is Lord Kevlar," Guimar thundered and was impatient.

Guimar's right arm was mechanical, as his original was lost in an attack from Asgard a few years ago. He managed to find an Asgard convoy outside one of their strongholds and assaulted it. It was a massacre for our forces.

Guimar's arm, however, was unique. The arm was designed to allow the Dragon Force to flow freely through it. Custom made at Drakelene City.

Guimar's rough complexion gave him an intimidating presence, especially when he was almost seven feet tall. His dark skin matched his fiery passion along with his dragon. He wore an armored robe known as a chlamy. It was red, but the armor plating around his shoulder was burnt silver. His grey beard was messy and unorthodox.

I look up to see Guimar's dragon, Firewing, standing tall as horns protrude from its noise and above its eye, almost like an eyebrow stretching back from its head. A nice little horn spike down from its chin matches its age, as massive spikes trend down its four-limbed body. It was just as big as Eldrid.

"Last time I saw him, he was getting a recruit to take one of the evaluations to join the order." Lady Evette's voice was young and almost that of a child. She is the youngest of us.

Her hair was brown and long, wrapped up in 2 pony-tails. She was incredibly short, as she donned tiny blue scale armor. The armor was almost basic.

Her dragon, Rod, layed jagged behind her. One horn pointed forward toward the table. Its wings were slightly cut in a lightning shape, but its body was smaller due to its age. But Evette's magical abilities and Sigil make up for that.

"Do we know who was the recruit?" I asked, hoping it was William. Despite being older, that brat has the potential to outlast us with proper training. Training that I would be so glad to give.

"Some peasant child he found at the festival below," Lady Talia waved her hand, signaling that it wasn't necessary to dwell on such a topic. "What matters are the issues at hand."

"You can say that right," the blind man Joce, known for his Sigil for being the "6 Sense." His red hair covered his eyes as he wore green leather armor. Scrawny he is, but I know no one will ever find him off guard. "The Blight has been reported to be growing in strength once more."

"The Blight always returns after every invasion. But that's not the issue; the issue is that every new attempt, they are stronger than before and with twice the force." Lord Dimmon is a quiet man but known to be well respected by the common folk. Except for his son, from what I heard.

"Then we increase the number of recruits and enhance the training as we always do before. I don't mind wiping the newbies into fighting shape."

"Look how well we did last time we did that, Guimar. Without a way to progress Dragon Riders to Dragon Knights within days or weeks, the number of new riders does not matter, especially if they are slain and turned into Blight Riders."

"And you expect us to do what!?! Do nothing?"

Talia and Guimar yelled at each other until Evette voiced her own words. "While arguing brings forth nothing, we all know we need more Titan Riders."

"Titan Rider's is the highest level of any rider can achieve. If it weren't for the King himself, none of us would be here in charge." I spoke up. It was the truth, even if they all hated it. None of us can compete against a Titan.

Firewing starts to speak to Guimar. Guimar is then reminded of something as his face furrows in rage.

"And the worst of it all is that we still haven't found a way to make a dent into Asgard's forces!" Guimar yelled out, holding a grudge against Asgard.

Before we know everything, Kevlar opens the door, and it slams into the wall.

"Apologies."

"You can apologize by telling me about the recruit you evaluated," I said.

"William Hunter? Failed"

"Failed?"

"Ha," Talia cracked out, unable to keep her cocky laughter in check. "Fitting for commoners to know their place."

Evette sighs out loud. "Nobility isn't the only source of strength, Talia. If a commoner is born with a Sigil, then it's only right for them to join us."

"Sigils are different, my dear. If you have a sense of... Oh dear."

I stood up and approached Kevlar aggressively. "What do you mean fail? I have seen how he has progressed without being in the Order, and I know that he would make a fine addition to us."

"Ha, Fight, fight, fight!" Guimar sanged out.

Kevlar stood his ground, his face glaring at me with annoyance and disappointment. "It matters not their ability outside the Order; what matters is what is inside the individual. William lacks the spine to do what is needed. We are all here 'cause we know what the stakes are and we know what loss is."

"I do agree somewhat with Lord Commander, Kevlar," Dimmon rebuttal. "you have a bad reputation for having the highest number of failed recruits. Should we question your ability to judge an individual if so many cannot pass you but can pass by Lord Commanders?"

"Lord Kevlar has also recruited the most dedicated riders out of all everyone else. But I do say his recruits are stubborn as hell. Not afraid of anything, and do heartless." Evette's point is correct.

Every rider that Kevlar has found has always been excellent. But they do tend to be exceptionally cruel and heartless. I should question him now, especially what happened back then.

"It matters not what happens to the recruits; what matters is that I have news from the king." Everyone looks at Kevlar; the atmosphere is now tense. No one likes it when he has news. But this is from the King himself. "Titan Rider Narric is arriving here in a few short weeks. Lord Barren, you are requested to return to Drakelene City to ready the troops for another assault mission against Asgard. immediatly."

Crap.

Don't you worry, William. I'm not giving up on you yet. I have seen and felt what you can do.

Literally.

If you don't join the Order, it would be our greatest disgrace.