Erendil sat in his room, immersed in a book as was usual for him. He had set up a separate room for himself closer to the VKs so that he could keep his subtle guardian role active. Officially, he hadn't been assigned to room with the new villains; he just wanted to be near them. The dragon within him whispered that one, or perhaps all, of these newcomers might be key to his destined path. It can't be possible, Erendil thought to himself, but the dragon inside him knew better. It always did.

His instincts, shaped by the mystical dragon heritage, often nudged him towards fates and decisions that weren't always clear at first. Now, nestled in his makeshift observatory, Erendil kept an eye on the unfolding dynamics of the VKs, ever vigilant, ever calculating, driven by a deeper understanding that what might seem inconsequential could very well be pivotal.

Someone knocked on Erendil's door, pulling him away from his book. "Come in," he called out, flicking his finger casually, and the door swung open wide. There stood Carlos and Jay. Erendil tilted his head inquisitively. "What are you two doing here?" he asked, marking his place in the book with a finger.

Jay and Carlos exchanged a look before Jay exhaled a heavy sigh. "We need you," he said, his tone urgent. He gestured emphatically towards Erendil. "Come on, hurry!"

Erendil stood up and placed his bookmark inside the tome, closing it with a soft thud. He followed Carlos and Jay, his mind racing with dark thoughts. This is it, he thought grimly, this is when they turn on me. Despite the looming threat, he wasn't truly frightened of these new "villains"; it was the villains within—like his own mother—who had taught him to guard his thoughts and secrets from mind readers and any magic that could betray him.

Jay and Carlos led him to a room directly across from his own, where Mal and Evie were waiting. Both girls looked up as he entered; Mal greeted him with a smile. "There you are! You said we could come to you if we needed help, right? Well, we do," she said, her fingers snapping softly for emphasis.

Suddenly, Jay pounced, tackling Erendil to the floor and pinning his hands behind his back. Erendil grunted from the impact, but he made no other sound; he neither screamed nor struggled to free himself. Evie furrowed her brow in confusion. "Uh, aren't you scared?" she asked, puzzled by his calm demeanor under such unexpected aggression.

Recovering from the sudden tackle, Erendil coughed and twisted his head to face Evie. Long strands of his dark hair had fallen across his eyes. With a deft flick of his index finger, he magically gathered his hair back into a short ponytail. His green eyes sparkled in the dim light filtering through the curtains, a hint of resolve shining in them despite his precarious situation.

"I'm not afraid... grunt... of youngsters," he stated firmly, his voice steady even as Jay's weight pressed down on him. This calm declaration, delivered in the midst of physical restraint, highlighted his resilience and the depth of his training—traits that set him apart from the typical inhabitants of Auradon Prep.

"Well, you should be," Mal said coldly, squatting down to meet Erendil's level. "We could just leave you here, you know, bound and forgotten. Maybe Ben would come looking, but he'll never know. You're coming back with us to the Isle of the Lost." Her tone was icy, each word a calculated threat designed to unsettle him.

Erendil snorted in defiance, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth despite his precarious position. "Do your worst, little fairy," he retorted with a challenging glint in his eyes, undeterred by Mal's threats and fully aware of his own capabilities. His response was laden with the kind of fearless sarcasm that hinted at his readiness for whatever Mal and her crew might throw at him.

"Just let him go," Carlos said, rubbing his forehead. "Look, Jay, you're hardly able to keep him down." He pointed out the obvious, noting that Erendil could easily slip his shadow form right into Jay's face and escape, yet for some reason, he hadn't.

"You're playing with us, aren't you? Is this the real you?" Jay hissed into Erendil's ear, his grip tightening momentarily in frustration.

Erendil exhaled heavily and laid his forehead down on the mat, resigning himself to the moment. "What do you think, little sorcerer's son. I am the true Erendil. I am the son of Tairn, the fiercest war dragon ever to fly the clouds, and Emberlyn, the first shapeshifter who has ever bonded with a dragon and is a dragon herself. She would tear you to pieces if she finds out about this," he said, a hint of a smile curling his lips. "But no need to worry, because this stays between us. I'm not afraid of Ben coming to look for me, I don't need a little king's help."His words carried a mix of defiance and assurance, a reminder of his powerful lineage and his own formidable capabilities, suggesting that his current restraint was more a choice than a compulsion.

Then, in a swift, calculated move, Erendil sprang up, catching Jay off guard. Jay grunted as Erendil's shadow shot straight up into his face, just as Carlos had predicted. Carlos yelped as a wisp of darkness brushed against his throat, and Mal gasped as dark magic swirled around her, the eerie tendrils licking the air.

Green eyes, bright and unyielding, locked onto Mal's. "Do your worst, sweethearts," Erendil challenged, his voice low and confident, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. His stance was relaxed yet poised, ready to counter any move they might make. The room charged with a tense energy, Erendil's display of power a clear warning that he was not to be underestimated.

Jay's gaze intensified, sensing an opportunity. "Let's take him with us; he can help us get the Fairy Godmother's wand," he suggested eagerly, and Erendil narrowed his eyes, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"So," he began, his shadows receding as he stepped into the light, "you're after the Fairy Godmother's wand." He scoffed, "Good luck, but maybe you won't need it. I'll join you."

Carlos hesitated, puzzled. "Why are you doing this? We haven't done anything good for you."

Erendil tilted his head and locked eyes with Mal, his expression serious. "I'm tired of these crowns' guardians. Magic needs to be free," he declared. "I can help Auradon be free again." He then turned to Evie, "You might not have the wildest mother, but dragons aren't tame and nice; they are fierce and strong."

He rolled up a sleeve of his red shirt to reveal three long, scarlet lines of scarred skin against his normally pale complexion—claw marks. "My father gave me this when I mistook a dagger for a toy."

Mal exhaled, absorbing the depth of Erendil's resolve and the physical marks of his heritage. "Alright, you're in," she conceded.

Erendil's smile widened.

  This is going to be fun.