Devin was tired. He truly didn't mind fulfilling his duties everyday, but it was a different story with the festival. While he was off looking pretty to a crowd that didn't care, representing a family that also did not care, he could have been feasting upon some rather unhealthy snacks or competing in games with the townsfolk. If they were brave enough, that is.

So, Devin was not exactly the sleepy kind of tired, but rather tired of being someone he was not. Waking up early was also a problem. He valued his rest, as any good prince should. Devin carefully nestled his crown into his hair. It was a silly thing, all silver, because Devin had never liked gold, with jewels embedded into the sides. Royal blue, like the flags and rooves around the City of Trunswick. He felt almost embarrassingly rich wearing it.

But he was yelled at if he didn't.

So he made sure it wasn't crooked, then set off.

The day was just the same as any other. Devin had fallen into the rhythm. Walk, snicker to his siblings, stop to talk to a wealthy man or woman and politely introduce himself. Continue walking. Sometimes they'd stand and observe the festival. He saw no point in it, really. It was all just a show, and he was one of the main actors.

Then came the true twist of events. The show's intro was finally over, and now its plot was unfolding. A guard had approached them, his partner dragging on behind, requesting Devin to follow them, stating there was someone specifically asking to see him.

He had no idea who would ever ask to see him, as he'd been told that he wasn't pleasant company for long periods of time. That came from Dawson, though, and sometimes Dawson lied just to get back at his brother. Devin allowed it. He also allowed the guards to accompany him across Trunswick and into the courtyard just in front of the Trunswick Castle.

There stood a boy, his age, looking quite exhausted and fed up with the two other guards gripping him tightly. As he approached, the other guards perked up, one clearing his throat. "Your Highness," he said, bowing his head. Devin watched the boy roll his eyes. "We caught this one sneaking about the courtyard. When we apprehended him, he asked for you before we questioned him ourselves."

Devin blinked, a curious smile tugging at his lips. "I see," he replied calmly after a moment. Then, he turned to the boy. "Conor. You've changed quite a bit since the last time I saw you."

Conor looked back at him, unimpressed. "You haven't."

Devin pretended he wasn't insulted. "Why are you here?" he questioned, raising a brow. The question was not very clear, but then again, nor were Devin's own thoughts.

"In your courtyard or in Trunswick? I have an answer for both," Conor responded. He tugged forward, but the guards held him in an iron grip. It was one last defiant attempt to escape. Devin pitied him.

"Then both," Devin said simply.

"Courtyard because I had no idea where else I would look for you, and this worked out well in my favour. Trunswick because I need you."

Devin's expression remained unchanged, but uncertainty clouded his mind. "You've always been a little slippery, Conor," he said, distrust seeping through his voice, "how do I know you're not here to get yourself in trouble?"

Conor gritted his teeth. Those guards seemed to have an awfully painful grip on his arms. "I'm not looking for trouble," he said finally, "I'm just here to ask for your help."

Devin stared at him blankly for a moment, dumbfounded. Then, he let out a booming laugh, the kind that fills a room. "Help? From me?" he mused. "Don't be daft, Conor."

"It concerns Trunswick. If someone doesn't stop it then the whole city might be destroyed. That's why I need your help."

The guards around them tried to make it look like they weren't listening, but Devin knew they were just as interested as he was. He was quiet for a moment, considering. If Conor was telling the truth, then he didn't want to turn him away and watch Trunswick get destroyed a month, or even a week later.

"Don't lock him up," Devin said quietly. His head was tilted curiously at the boy across from him. "I'd like to talk to him."

"It's surprisingly hard to capture your interest," Conor murmured with a tired sigh. Devin had guided them to a secluded spot in the castle, a place where servants didn't often pass through. The empty ballroom made their voices echo softly, but he didn't think it would be a problem.

"Try my father," Devin snorted

Conor shook his head immediately. "I would never try approaching the King," he replied. Devin made a "hmph" noise.

"And yet you'd seek out the King's son?"

"I know you."

"Do you?"

The two shared a glance. The truth was, neither of them truly knew each other as well anymore. It had been so long since they had last spoken. Conor seemed to recognize this. He shook his head.

"I had a dream. The same dream six times," Conor began suddenly.

Devin leaned back against the wall, abandoning every rule regarding posture for a moment. There was no audience anymore, just Conor, who always preferred to see him as the human he was.

"I saw a dragon. Forester type. Your second favourite, right? Anyways, they're supposed to be calm dragons, not very destructive, but in my dream, I was hiding behind this pillar in what looked like a temple. The dragon was in the center, and it was out for blood. It was looking for me, and then it roared. Suddenly it was directly behind me. The dream always ends right when it shatters the pillar. I don't know what happens past that point, but I'm almost certain it's a vision from the future." Conor took a breath when he'd finished, glancing over at the nearby prince.

Devin contemplated his words for a moment. This was certainly a topic of interest, and Conor had his undivided attention. "A forester dragon," he mumbled. A forester dragon certainly was one of his favourites, right beside the pyradragon, with scales as hot as lava, and the whirldragon, who could cause devastating windstorms. Foresters were generally gentle souls, curious more than anything else. They could manipulate the nature around them. Legend had it that over half of the forests in Eura were planted by forester dragons.

"Are there any dragons still alive, Devin?" Conor asked. Their voices were already hushed, and Conor's only got quieter.

Devin was stunned by how casually Conor had said his name. It was not a usual occurrence that someone that wasn't his family didn't add the formality. He finally remembered to respond after a long moment. "Not that I know of," he answered truthfully, "but I'm not saying there isn't a single dragon out there."

Conor was silent, and Devin didn't bother him. Neither of them had spoken much since before Conor had left Trunswick, leaving Devin feeling quite alone. Quite empty. It had been a sad day for both of them.

"I want you to help me find it."

Devin let out a sputtering laugh. "You're joking, right?" He stood up straight again, getting into a more defensive position. Conor crossed his arms.

"You're the only person I know who's practically an expert on dragons," Conor explained. "You know I don't know the first thing about mythical lizards."

"They're not mythical."

Conor waved a hand in the air dismissively. Devin was aware he could easily get Conor in trouble for that, but he chose not to. That was his act of kindness for today.

"Tell me the real reason." Devin narrowed his eyes at him, pacing a few feet away. Conor was quiet for a while, and Devin was getting suspicious that he wasn't even going to reply.

"My dream," Conor responded softly, "I saw through your eyes."