The wind rustled through the walls of the Palace of the King of Nairo, in the great city of Paracoli. Two young Nairo, both near the age of 20 revolutions (about 70 earth years) lay beneath a large Draet tree in the courtyard. One was snacking on a Draet fruit, the other was staring thoughtfully into the sky.
"Whath're you thooing?" Asked the Nairo with his mouth full of fruit. He had blond hair, and spiky bangs. He was clad in golden pauldrons and a purple cape, along with traditional Nairoid leggings. The other Nairo, who had brown hair and wore a brown cloak, stared into the sky in thought for a moment before answering.
"I'm just... thinking." He replied.
"Can't you think when you're not in disguise?"
"What?"
"I mean, I want to do something!"
"Yes, but who's in charge here, Dracon?" The cloaked man asked with relish. Dracon replied almost in monotone.
"You are, Your Highness."
"Shhhh! Don't go letting the opad out of the bag!" the man hissed.
"Forgive me... but... Ferren..."
"What?" Ferren replied in annoyance.
"I thought the point of you going out in disguise was so you could get in touch with your subjects!" Dracon whined. Ferren said nothing for a second.
"Yes... I know." He said finally. "But forget it. I grow tired. Come... let's get something to eat." Ferren announced, now on his feet. Dracon looked at the half-eaten fruit in his hand, thought for a moment, then tossed it over his shoulder.
"Alright."

The pair made their way into the entrance hall of the palace. When the two reached the large doors leading to the Banquet Hall, Ferren removed his cloak and hood, revealing a dazzling gold crown emblazoned with the symbols of the Nairo. At this, every soul in the hall knelt and bowed in the King Ferren's presence. Ferren merely chuckled.
"So, Dracon, what sounds good?" Ferren asked, examining a large table laden with food. "should we have some Mavake steak? Or..." Ferren perused the table and grabbed a plate. Dracon followed suit, and grabbed a Mavake steak, a tankard of the finest wine from Balegon, and a Guth Tree Root. They then sat down at the head of the table, and set their plates down. Dracon took a huge chunk of Mavake steak into his mouth and chewed ravenously. Ferren sighed in disdain. Dracon stopped chewing for a moment, and looked at Ferren.
"Whu-?" He said, small chunks dribbling out from his mouth.
"Must you eat like a savage?" Ferren asked. "The least you can do is use your utensils..." Dracon swallowed, and picked up his fork and knife, and cut his steak into little bite-sized pieces, all the while glaring at Ferren. "Well, just because you can turn into a Wyvern, doesn't mean that you must eat like one!" Dracon did have the ability to transform into a Wyvern, as it was his god-given trait. Many Nairo are given special powers from birth by the gods, and Dracon was one of them. A Wyvern was a dragon-like creature with a humanoid body, wings, a tail, and reptilian head.
"Forgive me, your highness." Dracon said through gritted teeth. "Oh, what was it Angor wanted us for?" He changed the subject.
"Oh, yes, he wouldn't tell me what it was about, but he sounded excited. We are to meet him in the throne room at dusk." said Ferren with a slight wink. Dracon said nothing for a moment, then asked, "Which dusk?"
"Reku." Ferren replied. The planets in the Jungan system, such as Geon, Hydron, revolved around two suns, Nekai and Reku.
"Who all's going to be there?" Dracon asked.

Ferren named them while counting on his fingers. “Angor, of course, Cindron, the general of the In'Fernon army, Flora--”

“Flora?” Dracon grinned. He might actually have a chance to talk to her. Flora was a general for the army stationed on Hydron. She was about Dracon's age, and a little shorter than he. She had blondish hair, and was an excellent fighter. Aside from all that, she had almost complete control over the liquid element, water
“Yes,” Ferren replied, obviously unaware of Dracon's grin.
“Anyone else?”
Ferren thought for a moment. “Well, the entire Nairoid Council is to be there, as will Slyph Detarus-”

“Slyph! Great… Slyph! Perfect!” Dracon complained sarcastically. Ferren sighed heavily.

“I know you and Slyph have had your… differences… but that doesn’t mean this council can’t be civilized. He warned.

A few revolutions ago, a quarrel between Dracon and Slyph hadn’t ended well. Since that day, Dracon and Slyph were constantly at each other’s throats.

“Now, I expect you to be there. If you aren’t, I can’t be certain what the consequences will be.” Ferren said curtly before turning on his heel and striding off to his chambers. Dracon stood stewing in his own anger for a while, before retreating in the opposite direction. The behemoth stone gates of the palace courtyard ground open before Dracon, and he walked out into the early afternoon sun. The city of Paracoli was laid before him down the slopes of a decent-sized cliff. Dracon closed his eyes, and felt his appearance change as the gift Lord Nekai had bestowed upon him had come forward. His head had become reptilian with two hair-like horns curving from his brow. His massive wings stretched from his shoulder blades, and his skin became a shade of green and grey.

Dracon jumped upward, his wings catching the wind. He flew over the stone buildings and streets, admiring the craftsmanship of the city. It was a majestic thing, with limestone houses risen from the ground and placed in symmetrical rows. Watchtowers peeked from the sea of housing every now and then, and the Market Plaza was alive with shouts of bargains and business.