Cursed To Conquer

The return of Basil's mother to the Eryndor estate was nothing short of monumental. Word spread like wildfire among the household staff and family members. Servants rushed to prepare the grand hall, dusting off ancient tapestries and lighting every chandelier in sight. The air buzzed with excitement, curiosity, and a hint of reverence.

Basil stood by the east wing entrance, watching as his mother stepped into the sunlight for the first time in years. The golden rays reflected off her silver hair and the faint scales on her skin, giving her an otherworldly glow. She was no longer a queen bound by chains—she was the Dragon Queen, a title earned through centuries of unmatched strength and wisdom.

As they entered the grand hall, Basil caught glimpses of his siblings gathered in clusters, their whispers filling the air. His father, the head of the Eryndor family, stood at the far end of the room, his expression unreadable.

His mother walked with the grace of a ruler who had faced countless battles and emerged victorious. Her golden eyes scanned the room, and even the youngest of the Eryndor children, who barely knew her, couldn't help but feel awed.

The family head, a man renowned for his strength and achievements, stepped forward. For the first time in Basil's memory, his father seemed uncertain.

"Eryndora," he said, addressing her by her dragon name. "It has been a long time."

"It has," she replied, her tone calm but firm.

There was a moment of silence, heavy with unspoken words. Then, to Basil's astonishment, his father inclined his head slightly—a gesture of respect.

"Welcome home," the family head said.

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Basil's father, a man who bowed to no one, had acknowledged her superiority.

"I see you've kept things… lively in my absence," Eryndora said with a faint smile, her eyes landing on her children.

The tension broke as the younger children, led by Illyria, rushed forward.

"Mother!" Illyria cried, her small horns gleaming as she wrapped her arms around Eryndora's waist.

Eryndora laughed, a rich, melodic sound that filled the hall. "You've grown, little one."

As the family gathered around her, Eryndora began to tell stories of her reign over the dragon lands. She spoke of the Skyfire Cliffs, where she defeated three rival dragon clans in a single battle, and the Emerald Depths, where she forged alliances that lasted centuries.

Her siblings listened, enraptured, but it was the revelation of her strength that truly stunned them.

"Your father is strong," Eryndora said, her gaze falling on the family head, who nodded in agreement. "But dragons value strength above all, and I earned my crown through countless victories. Even your father could not best me in combat."

The room fell silent. To hear that their mother, elegant and composed, was stronger than their formidable father was both shocking and awe-inspiring.

"I stepped away from the dragon lands," Eryndora continued, "to ensure my children would have a future where they could live without the constant struggle for dominance. It was not an easy choice, but it was the right one."

Basil's throat tightened. He had never considered the sacrifices his mother had made.

The evening turned into a joyous celebration. The family dined together for the first time in years, the tension that had once plagued them replaced with laughter and warmth.

Basil found himself sitting beside his mother and Illyria, who chattered excitedly about her painting.

"And this," Illyria said, pointing to the tiny figure of their mother in the painting, "is you! I missed you so much, so I wanted you to be in it with us."

Eryndora's eyes softened as she placed a hand on Illyria's head. "It's beautiful, little one. You've captured our family perfectly."

Basil watched the interaction, a strange warmth spreading through his chest. For so long, he had been the outlier in this family, the black sheep. But now, sitting here with his mother's approval and his sister's unwavering trust, he felt a glimmer of hope.

From across the table, his father caught his eye. There was no hostility in his gaze, only a flicker of something Basil couldn't quite place. Was it respect?

The thought was interrupted when Eryndora raised her glass.

"To family," she said, her voice steady and commanding.

"To family," the others echoed.

As the night wore on, Basil couldn't help but marvel at how much had changed in such a short time. The path ahead was still uncertain, but for now, he allowed himself to savor this rare moment of peace and unity.