The grand throne room of Bern's castle was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn, allowing only shards of the setting sun to pierce through. King Zephiel sat on his throne, his yellow eyes glistening in the twilight. In his hands was a worn tome, filled with the ancient lore of the dragons, the secrets of their power, and the tales of their once flourishing society.

As he sifted through the parchment, a frown furrowed his brow. The knowledge contained within the book was vast, but the more he read, the more he realized how much he didn't know. It irked him, this limit to his knowledge. His ambition, to replace the flawed world of men with the superior dragons, was stunted by his lack of understanding. He felt as though he was grasping at the edge of a grand tapestry of knowledge, only able to pull at a single thread.

He rose from his throne, pacing back and forth, his mind abuzz with questions. How could he awaken the full potential of the War Dragons? How could he ensure that they would not repeat humanity's mistakes? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. He turned, his gaze falling on a servant, who bowed low in his presence.

"Your Majesty,"

the servant started,

"The council awaits your presence for the evening meeting."

Zephiel sighed, closing the tome in his hands. He felt a surge of frustration, his quest for knowledge temporarily halted. Yet, he realized that his knowledge, while limited, was still growing. Each day, he learned more, and with each revelation, he drew closer to his goal.

"Very well,"

he said, his voice echoing in the grand room.

"Tell them I am on my way."

As he followed the servant out of the room, Zephiel couldn't help but look back at the tome on his throne. His determination hardened. The limit of his knowledge was not a wall, but a challenge. And he would rise to meet it, for the sake of his new world.