Similar to humans, there were also drastic differences between children and adult magical beings.
But unlike humans, who took physiological, anatomical, cognitive, social, and emotional aspects into consideration when determining maturity, magical beings were mainly concerned about one thing: core formation.
Fundamentally similar in nature but different in manifestation, a core was what separated humans from magical beings. It allows the gathering, regulation, and transformation of mana.
Humans do not have magical cores; therefore, they cannot harness mana through their bodies alone. Magical beings, on the other hand, are born with a predisposition to form their mana cores.
Still, it was only a predisposition. And just like most organs, the core would still need time to develop.
But the same predisposition was what elevated the dragon kind above all others. For dragons, the magical core was the heart itself. It had beaten with their mana, as natural as a pulse or breath.
Because of this, dragon blood that had passed through the heart was exceptionally potent. But since the heart was still a heart, it had to be strengthened to withstand immense mana flow.
That was the truth behind the dragonling exercise of maintaining their forms—it was training for their dragon heart.
The reason behind the traditional hundred-year measure was simple. It typically took that long for a dragon’s core to fully mature and stabilize.
But Kael, who had forcefully stabilized himself far earlier, knew that time was not the key factor. What truly mattered was the amount of mana that the heart had managed to regulate.
It was one reason the dragons before the First Dimming, or the War of the Shattered Crowns, matured far faster than the younglings of today. Driven by the need to survive, dragonlings who sensed danger and faced peril matured by force.
Those who survived grew far stronger than the rest, while those who couldn’t withstand the initial backlash of forcefully maturing their cores simply didn’t make it.
Forcing it was definitely dangerous and was probably nature’s way of balancing the dragon kind’s advantages.
For dragons, their progressions were jump-started just by hatching. But because of the amount of mana that they could wield, they also took the longest time to mature and were also the most unstable ones, despite being able to wield more power even as dragonlings.
Therefore, during a dragon’s earlier years, it was essential to train through strain and endurance so they wouldn’t accidentally kill themselves or others with mana their cores couldn’t properly contain.
This, however, was the opposite for the other magical beings.
For other races, the process was more gradual. As such, while their young could channel mana through the seed that would become their core, they wouldn’t be able to use magic the same way Orien would, even as a hatchling.
Simple spells would gradually become stronger as their cores formed. That was the way of most other beings.
It was also what King Arlen meant when he said that Finnian still needed to grow his core.
The only disadvantage was that their young were extremely vulnerable. Although it was not for as long as one hundred years, their undeveloped cores were still highly susceptible to external influence. Which was the main reason why such children were often undisclosed.
Different magical races, especially polymorphs and humanoids, were fiercely protective of their young because this stage was the most crucial.
If the core did not develop, or if it was incomplete, then the child would be no better than a human—and in some cases, worse—beings who would experience backlash and phantom pain throughout their much shorter lives.
So, considering King Arlen’s words, what would happen to children sealed before their cores could fully develop?
If mature magical beings were capable of keeping their cores while being sealed but were unable to draw from them, then what of those whose cores had not yet formed?
Is it even possible to seal beings with no cores? In that situation, what would even be sealed?
Kael could not help but think deeply about it as he stared at the ritual unfolding before him.
One by one, the members of House Elowen stepped into the runic circle. Each time the light flared, another thread of power was sealed away.
Their white hair dulled to the color of ash, and their eyes—once bright as gems—dimmed to the muted shades of humans.
Still beside Kael, Riley watched quietly, unsure what to feel. Thankfully, he didn’t feel any misplaced guilt even as he stood close to Prince Finnian.
At times like this, it was easy for the heart to falter, but just thinking about Lily and her story was enough for Riley to keep his stance.
When it was done, Rowan, Elira, Darin, and Lina Elowen approached him together.
Finnian immediately stiffened and moved in front of Riley, small arms spread as if to shield him.
His siblings froze, startled.
Four tall elves with solemn faces and one short elven prince who was dead set on trying to guard a human.
The sight almost looked comical. Almost.
Riley would’ve laughed if not for knowing the reason behind all this. While it looked like a confrontation might break out, the human aide wasn’t as scared because he could at least see remorse in their eyes. Although maybe it was because the dragon lord was just within arm’s reach.
Still unsure of what would happen to him now that the sigil had faded close to nothingness, Riley couldn’t help but be jumpy when he wasn’t close enough to the golden lizard.
Yes, really, that was the reason. Cough.
Especially when he was surrounded by a group of elves who probably had a grudge against him—after all, even with their magic sealed, their physical robustness that came with years of training would still be enough to clock Riley straight into the next day.
"Ah, I guess we are pretty much villains right now." Then Darin gave a rueful grin. "To be fair, we were really wrong."
Rowan stepped forward. His voice was calm, almost gentle. "Lord Dravaryn, Aide Hale, we came to thank both of you," he said, glancing at Kael. "And to apologize."
"But we’re not here to ask for forgiveness, at least, not just yet. We only want to express our apologies for what we’ve done."
He paused, then added, "Maybe someday, when we’ve done enough to prove our remorse, we’ll ask properly. But not today."
Riley blinked, intrigued by his words. He had already decided long ago not to accept apologies from people he hadn’t truly forgiven, so he’d been prepared to deflect whatever they said, but with this, he was not made to carry the burden of having to forgive for the sake of giving face.
And the human aide thought that was rather thoughtful of them.