"When the true Dragon rises… the cult will rise with him. That, I am sure of!" Soron said confidently, and it was that unwavering certainty that finally put Mavern at ease.
It wasn't that Mavern did not believe in the ancient prophecy.
Like every true follower of the cult, he too believed in the eventual rise of the Dragon. But centuries of failure had slowly begun to wear down that faith.
"There's a boy," Mavern said carefully. "He was born on a mana-less planet, but after a series of life-altering events, he's now a prime candidate to become the next Dragon.
The Twelfth Elder is nurturing him currently, though he refuses to bring him into the cult's fold until the boy is truly ready."
"A mana-less planet, you say? Haha… yes, I remember," Soron chuckled, his tone lightening.
"My father— being the shameless womanizer that he was— used to frequent those planets outside the Rainbow Stream, always convinced that true beauty could only be found where mana did not reach."
