"Continue, please." I said, friendlier this time. I could feel a slight headache rising from the back of my head.
The chief coughed, "Yes, well," He paused. He was still nervous. "After being driven to the eastern mountains, the great alliance of all the races mustered all their heroes for a final battle. From the mightiest wizards to the strongest warriors, they confronted the devil and cornered him within the mountains."
They managed to twist the events so much in their favor. If this was the version of events this isolated beastkin village knew of, I didn't want to imagine what the rest of the civilized races believed in. It was already disappointing that they still worshiped the gods in the first place. Shards or not.
"And then?" I asked, noticing his hesitation to finish.
"A cataclysmic battle. One that made the very mountains tremble and the forest to be set aflame. It was said that the mountains were shattered," He said, doubt in his tone, "And at long last, the great devil was defeated and sealed away within the stone. None of the heroes ever returned."
We were silent for a long while. During this time, the feast was about to start in earnest. The smell of roasted meats and prepared meals wafted from the gathered tables. The laughter of both the old and the young filled the air. Tov was already drunk judging by his loud laughter that drowned out everything else.
"You seem skeptical." It wasn't so much of a question as it was a statement.
"My father didn't believe that the races banded together," The beastkin explained, "He said if they did, then why did we need to go here? Near where the great devil was said to have been sealed away?"
"And you?" I asked, "Do you believe in this? In any of this for that matter."
He paused, then sighed.
"When I saw you for the first time, I did. And when I heard that you defeated a Queen Boar, I was certain." He sounded disappointed.
"But… you're not him," He admitted in defeat, "Now that I gaze upon your features. I see now that you are no dragon. Yet…"
He trailed off. His eyes widened and his mouth went agape as horror painted itself over his face. This was unlike the fear he felt when I showed anger. No. This was an instinctual reaction to a harrowing realization, an ancient fear that preceded his own life many generations over.
"You are…" The fact that it took him this long to realize amused me.
But I didn't need to have my true nature revealed.
"I am not a devil," I said. It was both a truth and a lie, a half-truth, "And I am not here to cause you any harm."
I was very close though.
The chief, however, didn't seem comforted. He took a step back, breathing rapidly as his heartbeat quickened.
"If I wanted to kill you," I said, "I would have done so already. Now cease."
Telling a frightened beastkin to not be afraid of the same 'devil' that allowed their race to suffer was like telling a baby gazelle to not be afraid of the lion that had just mauled its mother. But I had to keep my identity a secret somehow.
My conscience wouldn't allow me to kill him. At least not without just cause. Protecting my true nature was not a just cause, but a selfish one. Maybe it was a necessesity, but still I couldn't. Not even in my anger did I follow through.
There was always something stopping me from destroying this world.
Suddenly, the memory of Wheatley flashed in my mind. Those little beady eyes, his small rustly arms. I remembered how I created him and his brother Barleyon. They were my first successful creations not attuned to conflict.
But care.
I sighed. This world had taken everything from me. And even now it wasn't done. But I had to honor the memories of those lost, somehow. The death of Wheatley reminded me of that.
"You're not here to enslave us?" The chief suddenly asked.
"If I was here to turn you into my slaves then I would have already done so." I said.
He was still terrified, but it seemed like my assurances were finally breaking through.
"Then let me ask you this," He said, somehow mustering confidence, "What do you intend to do now?"
I was worried there for a second. I thought he was going to add to the growing list of people who kept on asking about who I really was.
"I intend to prepare for a coming disaster," I said, "This world is ill-equipped to face it. I'm just trying to even the odds."
The real reasons weren't something I wished to share, especially not to strangers.
"That lance of magic…"
"It was mine." I said, confirming his assumptions.
This seemed to comfort the old beastkin.
"I can rest easy then," He smiled, "If the stories were even half-true, then I'd be dead, or worse, a slave. Your magic is a far cry from the vile influences that invade these forests."
He then looked at the sky, gazing at the dim, twinkling stars.
"My father said the mountains still stand. Is it true?" He asked. I nodded.
Of course the mountains still stood. I fought the Great Alliiance around the slopes, over the peaks, and underneath the stone. They were stubborn, fanatical, and reckless. It was only because of me that the caves themselves didn't collapse and bury everything when that bastard of a dragonprince thought he had me cornered. That would have been a very unpleasant experience. Even for me.
As I gazed up the pale, dark sky, I couldn't help but dwell upon my hopes and fears. The world moved on, as I had hoped, and at the same time, feared. My memory among the many races of this world were muddled, even outright untrue. But that didn't matter, not too much.
The chief seemed conflicted with my answer.
"The night grows old," He said. Faint dismay marred his voice. "I do not completely understand this 'great disaster' you speak of, but I hope your intentions are indeed pure."
The lion turned around and faced the direction of the gathered villagers.
"It is time for the feast." He walked away. Our discussion would continue another time.
The night indeed grew old. The night sky above was pale no more, set upon by a carpet of diamonds that shimmered against the darkness. A bright moon shone between the sea of stars, blessing the lands with its elegant light.