Authors note:

So I wrote this in about a month. I loved Season 3, and that love produced this story. It's got a bit of everything. Adventure. Romance. Sadness. A messed up bad guy.

I've never written a TDP fic before. I've been almost exclusively writing Transformers fics lately. So this has been a bit outside of my comfort zone, but at the end of the day, these are very fun characters to write so it wasn't difficult.

There is death in this story. A fair amount of it. Just a warning right off the rip. It gets dark.

And there is Rayllum. Obviously.

There will also be little musical suggestions put into some scenes. Just to set the mood for a scene. Obviously completely optional.

This story takes place after Season 3, and it is my great hope that it will soon be made AU by the arrival of Season 4. Fingers crossed. But in the meantime, here's Dragon Prince: The Dark Orb

The Dark Orb

Chapter 1: The Orb and the Mask

The massive wooden ship cut through the smooth waters effortlessly, gliding across the strait, as it made its long journey toward Katolis.

The fog had enshrouded the vessel, but with few rocks along this deepwater path, it mattered little.

The red and gold flag of Katolis fluttered from the mainmast, as behind the wheel, a red robes captain gazed across the deck.

A handful of armored soldiers, bearing the silver and gold of the military. The most that could be spared.

Katolis had once had the largest army in the five kingdoms. A military powerhouse, supervised by King Harrow, his father before him, and trained by General Amaya.

But they had lost thousands during Lord Viren's uprising, and even the survivors had been corrupted by sun fire magic. They were a fraction of what they had once been.

So now, it was patchwork. This ship, once one of the proudest of Katolis's fleet, was massively undermanned.

"It's incredible." The captain stated.

"What is, Captain Virgil?" The helmsman asked.

"How vulnerable we would have been." The Captain continued. "How easily Xadia could have crushed us, with our forces as weak as they are."

He gazed down at the deck below.

Huddled along the deck, a mass of cloaked, weary looking figures.

"And now we transport elven refugees to safety." He said, looking down at the weary faces. "What a world."

"Do you...object, sir?" The helmsmen asked carefully.

"No." Virgil replied. "But it is...an odd thing to see." He said, turning his attention back to the surrounding fog. "Open up some more sail. We must get them to Katolis as quick as possible. The sickness...has claimed so many of them, it will only spread."

The elves who were massed along the deck, as well as below it, were a mixed group. Earthblood elves, sun fire elves, and even a couple of startouch elves.

They had lived together on a remote island, far from Xadia. A plague, raining down from the sky had ravaged them, and forced them to evacuate their home.

As a show of goodwill, the flagship of Katolis's once mighty fleet had volunteered to transport the survivors to safety.

"It is a bit unnerving." The helmsman noted. "I was in active combat near the breach not long ago. To see former enemies strewn across our own deck..."

"It is the future." Captain Virgil replied, with a smile of understanding. "We all must adapt. Less soldiers sent to their deaths...it can only be seen as a positive."

Some shouting was heard from the bow, and a bell began to ring overhead, from the main mast.

"Oy! Captain! Vessel off the port bow! Approaching fast!" The watchman shouted from above.

Virgil's eyes snapped up, and he reached for his spyglass.

The fog was thick. At first glance, nothing could be seen, even through the spyglass. But he could make out a shadow.

And his eyes widened as a massive silhouette appeared out of the fog.

A moment later, he didn't need the spyglass.

Distant war drums erupted as the ragged looking, but large ship appeared, turning hard to starboard, to bring itself parallel to the Katolian vessel.

"It's brigands sir!" The watchmen shouted from the main mast. "They fly an unrecognized flag!"

"Full sail!" Virgil shouted, grabbing the wheel. "Soldiers, prepare for..."

The other vessel swung around, turning it's bow to face the katolian warship head on.

And to reveal the massive ram, built into its prow.

"She intends to ram us sir!" The helmsman shouted, as it cut toward them.

No sooner had the words left his mouth, than the entire ship shook violently, as the other vessel crashed through its hull.

Virgil was thrown off his feet, as the deck shook, and tilted hard, wood splintering all around the railing.

"Battle stations!" He shouted, struggling to his feet, as he reached for his sword. "They're..."

Arrows came flying across, striking down soldiers all across the deck.

As Virgil looked up, he could make them out. They looked like pirates. Wearing patched together armor, and firing modified bows.

A pair of burning arrows hit the deck, and fires began to spread.

Virgil pulled out his sword, and stepped forward.

In time to see a figure, hooded, his armor black with red accents, leap across, skidding to a stop on the deck.

Two jagged blades in his grip.

"Take him out!" One of the soldiers shouted.

The hooded figure turned, dodging a swing, before driving his sword through the soldier's stomach.

Virgil's eyes widened.

He watched, helplessly, as the figure moved from soldier to soldier, cutting them down with precision that only a trained assassin could have.

He was human. And he appeared to be young. His skin pale, red war paint across his face.

He made quick work of the soldiers, and turned, eyes traveling to the captain.

"Captain, get down!" The helmsmen shouted, jumping in front of him with his own sword.

The hooded attacker smirked.

Then with lightning speed, he drew a knife from his belt, and hurled it into the helms man's chest.

The sailor let out a choking noise, turning to face his captain, eyes wide with fear, before collapsing to the deck.

Virgil backed away in shock. Looking down at the fallen sailor, and then glaring back up at the assassin, rage in his eyes.

"How dare you attack a vessel on a mission of peace!" He snarled.

"Peace? Never heard of it." The assassin replied with a shrug. "You look like the captain. Which means I can't kill you yet."

The captain gritted his teeth, and swung his sword.

The assassin ducked, then drove his sword through the captain's shoulder.

Right where the armor separated.

Virgil let out a cry of pain, and the assassin pushed him forward, pinning him painfully against the deck with the blade.

"Clear!" He shouted.

Planks were dropped down onto the deck, and the barbarians crossed over, stepping toward the refugees, who now looked around in fear, and shock at the sudden change in circumstances.

Soldiers lay dead all across the deck. The ship was listing hard to port.

The barbarians spread out across the deck, smiling sinister, toothy grins at the panicked elves.

"When do we get started?" One of them asked, his voice like nails, as he swung his blade around menacingly.

"Enough! Maintain discipline!" A voice shouted.

A heavily armored barbarian crossed the plank. "The king approaches." He announced.

The barbarians went immediately silent, and turned to witness his arrival.

The whimpering of the injured captain, and the small sounds of fear from the elves were the only sound audible now.

As a cloaked figure stepped across the plank, and onto the deck of the ship. The cloak was black, ragged, torn in places.

"Excellent work, Talon." He said, his voice muffled as he nodded to the assassin.

"A pleasure, my king." The assassin replied. "Only the refugees and the captain live, per your instructions. Will Borvir be here soon?"

"Ah who's to say?" The cloaked man replied dismissively. "Dragons. So unreliable." He turned, the moonlight illuminating his face.

Or rather, his mask.

Wooden. Elaborately carved. Covered in red war paint that matched his hooded assassin's.

His blue eyes glared out at the elves, through the carved eyeholes.

"Refugees." He said, a taunt in his tone. "Elven refugees. On a human warship?" He turned his attention to the captain. "What say you, captain? Why does this filth spill across your decks?"

The captain was trying to pull the sword out of his shoulder, but he paused to look up at the masked figure.

"The war is over." He said breathlessly. "They needed help, this is a mission of mercy! They're sick!"

The cloaked figure looked back at the refugees.

"Mercy." He whispered. "Tell me...have we all forgotten the days when our people suffered under the boots of the elves? What they took from us? And now...you transport them to safety?" He asked in disbelief.

"We all know the history..." Virgil began. "But these are civilians, and this is not a war! These are innocent people!"

"So were mine." The masked figure interrupted.

He held out a hand, and carved a rune into the cold, foggy air. But instead of pushing it outward, he pulled it towards him.

The wind blew past the captain, grabbing, and yanking the sword out of his shoulder. He collapsed to the deck, the pain sudden and overwhelming.

Blood gushed onto the wood below.

"How...how did you..." he began.

"We learned long ago that magic was not just for the elves." The masked man continued. "They consider my brand of magic such an atrocity...that they commit atrocities in order to stamp it out." He looked across the deck, at the terrified faces.

"Tell me...do I disgust you?" He asked, turning away from the captain, and removing his mask.

The refugees gasped at the sight before them. They exchanged looks of terror, as the mask was slid back on, and he turned back to the captain.

"You hammered humanity to the ends of the earth, left us with no alternative other than to embrace the very thing you banished us for. Did you not expect humanity would push back? Did you expect forgiveness?!" He demanded.

The refugees remained silent.

"No. The war is not over, my dear captain. Not yet."

Behind him, a single refugee stood up.

And tossed away their robe.

To reveal a young sunfire elf. Glaring at him defiantly.

"You speak of what we have done in the past. That does not excuse what you've turned yourself into. Or the lives you've taken today." The elf said, as she began to glow orange, rage and flame radiating within her.

The masked man turned to face her, seeing the energy build up.

Before he could reply, she let out a yell, and shot a plume of flame at the cloaked figure.

It hit him and exploded, sending fire spreading all across the deck.

She stood, panting, at the release of all of her energy, and sank to one knee.

She didn't see right away, as the flames began to curl, and dissipate.

Nor did she immediately see as the masked man stepped forward, unharmed, pulling the flame into his hand.

It danced there, in his palm, and she gasped as she saw him step towards her. But he cast it aside dismissively.

And instead, reached into his cloak, and pulled out a pitch black orb.

Her eyes traveled down to look at it. And they went wide as dinner plates.

The masked man tilted his head to the side, with amused curiosity.

"You know what this is, don't you?" He asked.

Her eyes darted from the orb to him, but she quickly nodded.

"It is a relic of peace." She said weakly.

"Is it? Hm. Well it makes a fine weapon." He said, looking into its swirling, cloudy interior. "It is an emotional weapon. Capable of bringing the most powerful men and women of this world to their knees." He said, looking back at the elf. "I've brought down whole kingdoms with this...little glass ball."

"Take care, mage. You dabble in the darkest of forces, you will pay the blood price eventually!" She warned.

There was a light, muffled chuckle from underneath the mask.

"See, that's what they always tell me. But then..." his expression darkened. "I already paid mine." He turned to the refugees. "Any idea what it contains? What swirls within this little glass ball?"

"Pain." The sunfire elf spat. "You've used it to harvest pain." Her expression hardened. "You're a monster."

He turned to look back at her, then leaned down.

"How right you are my dear. On both counts. Tell me...how much pain do you think you can take?" He asked, holding the orb out.

Fear flashed across her eyes, and she turned to look at the railing quickly.

"Let's find out." The masked mage hissed. He stepped towards her, his eyes going pitch black, as dark magic flowed through him.

His veins darkened as well, traveling down his arm, and making the orb swirl violently.

Then, the dark clouds erupted outward.

The sunfire elf backed away desperately, but it was too late.

The clouds surrounded her. Up her nostrils, down her throat. She began to cough violently.

"Breathe it in." The masked man sneered. "Let it fill you. Your body. Your soul. Your very being. Let us see how strong you really are."

She stood up, her eyes wide, as it burned through her.

Tears began to collect under her eyes, and her lava veins began to glow, as her temperature rose.

She began spasming.

"Get back!" The masked man commanded of his barbarians. "With sunfire elves, the results can sometimes be...explosive."

He too backed away, as she opened her mouth and let out a bone chilling scream, her body burning bright enough to blind any who looked directly at it.

Then, she shook, her eyes staring up the heavens.

And exploded. A fireball, exploding outward, tearing apart the deck, sending burning wood embers flying.

The masked man turned back to his hooded assassin.

"She held on longer than I expected." He commented coldly.

"What of the rest?" Talon asked.

The masked man turned to look at the refugees.

Hatred filling his heart, as he gripped the orb tightly.

"Dispose of them. Then cast them overboard. And burn the vessel to the waterline." He commanded.

The barbarians drew their swords at his command, and the masked man turned his attention back to the captain, as the deck was filled with the screams of the refugees.

The masked man held up his orb, and from the source of the slaughter, more dark clouds gathered, floating over and surging into the ball.

His eyes went pitch black again, and he let out a satisfied sigh, as he felt the dark magic course through his veins.

With every last bit of pain he consumed, he became stronger.

He let out a breath, having had his fill, then turned his attention to Virgil.

"Captain...you serve a rather specific purpose to me. I've been away for quite some time. Clearly some sort of misguided truce has arisen in my absence. But tell me...what has happened to your good King Harrow?"

Virgil tried not to watch the slaughter that went on behind him.

"He's...he's dead. He's been dead. For months. Assassinated by moonshadow elves."

The masked man's shoulders slumped noticeably. He tilted his head downward. The wind had been metaphorically removed from his sails.

"How...unfortunate." He hissed. "That I am robbed of vengeance before I even begin." He looked down at the deck, and closed his eyes.

Then they snapped back open, and he looked back up at the captain.

"Tell me then, Captain...what of his dear children?"

The Dragon Prince: Main Title-Freddie Weidmann

"Rise and shine!"

The sun erupted into the King's chambers, temporarily blinding him. He held up a hand to protect his sleepy eyes.

"Whyyyy?" Ezran asked, as the silhouette of his brother appeared before him. "Why are you doing this to meee..." he whined.

"Because. You slept in. And there's king stuff to do." Callum said, pulling back the blankets.

"Isn't my bodyguard supposed to stop anyone from coming into my room?" Ezran asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"Your bodyguard was...busy. With other things." Callum said with a wry grin.

Ezran closed his eyes and waved his hands.

"Stop, I don't wanna know...you guys are weird." He stammered.

"What? She's on patrol!" Callum exclaimed. "What did you think I...? Never mind. Don't answer that, come on, get up Ez, we've got people who want to talk to you." He said, helping his brother out of bed.

"Why do they always wanna talk to me?" Ezran asked, waving his arms in the air.

"I dunno. Something about you being the King of the realm or something..." Callum replied snarkily.

She was late. Ezran surely had risen by now. He was the king and it was almost 10 o clock.

The trees, the freedom of the patrol had allowed Rayla to get a little carried away.

She probably could've avoided spending a half hour trying to reunite a crying fawn with its mother. She had found herself eager for distractions lately.

But now, Rayla was ripping across the branches, jumping from tree to tree, as Katolis Castle got bigger and bigger in front of her.

"Please still be in bed please still be in bed please still be in bed..." the Moonshadow elf repeated, as the King's balcony became visible in front of her.

Ezran sheepishly donned his king garb, as Callum fidgeted with lightning in the corner.

"So you've got some generals. Some politicians. The baker's mad cuz another bakery opened up across the street from him..."

"Do they make jelly tarts?" Ezran asked, as he donned the crown, his attention grabbed.

"Um...you know what, I knew that would be your first question, I probably should've found that out already. I dunno." Callum admitted.

"It's okay, we'll just ask the baker." Ezran said, as he turned toward the door.

"What? No, why would you...the baker's going to be upset if you ask. Just don't mention anything about the other bakery, tell him you'll figure something out, I'll go visit them later, okay?"

The door to the balcony burst open, and Rayla exploded into the room.

"Good mornin King Ezran!" She exclaimed, waving her four fingered hands cheerily, before collapsing onto the floor from exhaustion.

Ezran and Callum both leaned over the heaving elf.

"Hey. How was...patrol?" Callum asked, arching an eyebrow.

"It was great...just great, time of mah life." Rayla replied, her voice muffled by the floor. She looked up at them.

"Just give me a moment my king, and I'll be ready for the whole...bodyguard thing. Just needa catch mah breath."

Bait waddled over to the fallen elf, and licked her white hair. She glared at the glow toad, then let out an exhausted groan and put her head down again.

"You know what?" Ezran said, looking up at Callum, boundless optimism in his eyes. "I think it's gonna be a good day!"

Enchantress-Thomas Bergersen (Ezran/Callum/Rayla theme)