Hearing the words dragon hero made my blood run cold and my eyes grow narrow. The air around us dipped, swept by a frost of unbearable shiver. Torches around us flickered out, and I could see the mane of this insolent lion stiffen. There were no other words to describe what I felt at that moment, other than I was livid.
Livid at the fact that a dragonkind was called a hero.
The dragonkind were no heroes. They were beyond the boastful pride of the elves, the stout stubbornness of the dwarves, and the surprising perseverance of man. They fashioned themselves the pinnacle of all life. Yet they were but mere lesser copies of the mighty, noble dragons who ruled the peaks and the skies during that age.
They led the world astray in consort with the very gods I once swore fealty to, helping them warp the world into their own personal plaything. I saw it all with my own eyes, how they led the beastkin to torment, how they misled the Ancient Trees to lose their wisdom, how they tricked humanity to surrender itself to their will.
I reckoned them forgotten, devolved into even lesser races. Without the royal blood to maintain their empire, they were sure to collapse and fall into ruin. I sealed their fate when I tore the heart of the last dragonprince and vanquished the Great Alliance.
And yet here I was, confronted by an ugly rewrite of history. There were no dragon heros. Only tyrants.
"There are no dragon heros." I said. The coldness of my voice permeated the trembling beastkin before me. He sunk back as I loomed, his feet forced to kneel on the ground as I overwhelmed him with my simmering wrath.
His eyes looked around, frantically looking for a savior that would not be there. I had cast a dome of invisibility around us, ensuring that nobody from the village could see or hear what was happening. Not unless one of them got close enough and stepped through the dome.
I could have ended him right then and there with just the flick of my fingertips. A simple spell would have turned this village and all its people to dust. They would have deserved it.
But then, what would I be proving? In fact, was it really this lion's fault to begin with? Would it soothe me if I added more to my crimes against the beastkin?
My shoulders slumped as my anger retreated. This was not the way, for now. The dome of invisibility melted away, allowing both I and the chief to be perceived by the world once more. A warm breeze blew, expelling the frosty air. The chief remained on his knees, trembling.
"Stand up, or else you invite suspicion." I said in a commanding tone. The chief did so quickly, standing from his knees before dusting himself.
"Tell me about this dragon hero," I said, "And do so honestly and completely. I am done with whatever pleasantries we were maintaining."
The beastkin cleared his throat, "So you are not him then?"
I shook my head. If what I was assuming was true, then I was the one who killed that hero.
"I… apologize…" He paused, "For offending you. I did not mean to insult or-"
"Who is this dragon hero you speak of," I cut him off. My patience was running thin. "And why did you assume I was them?"
I could be wrong. Maybe he wasn't referring to the dragonprince, but another dragonkind, a lady perhaps? But that was a bit of a stretch. Surely he wasn't talking about an actual dragon?
"When our people first settled these lands, they brought with them tales. Stories of an older, scarier world." He started. I noticed a few chairs leaning on a nearby hut and decided to borrow them for a while. The old chief had a story to tell, and I was more than keen to listen.
Even if it annoyed me to no end.
"My father told me that the dragon hero was a great king in olden days, an emissary of the gods when they still roamed the world in their ethereal forms."
I rolled my eyes, though I don't think the chief noticed.
"It was said that he led the ancient beastkin against a mighty devil, a powerful warlord who enslaved our kind for generations until then."
My lips curled.
"He said that there was a great war against this devil when he finally defied the gods. He destroyed countless kingdoms and cities, burning away entire continents before the gods themselves did him battle."
I raised a brow.
"But the gods and their holy armies were somehow forced back. The devil grew in strength and threatened the very fabric of the world," The beastkin sighed, "My father was skeptical about this part but, it was said that a great alliance of races banded together and drove this devil to the eastern mountains."
He pointed east, past the forest, and towards the eastern mountains I called home. I was reminded that those mountains were supposed to be barriers, impregnable and impassable walls to keep the world from myself, and myself from the world. It had been that way for thousands of years, only for it to be upended when I decided to save an adventurer party from monstrous creatures I did not know. To think that would lead to a greater, more sinister threat that even I couldn't ignore.
Would things have been different if I had just left the adventurers to die? But if those abominations had always existed long before the breach, then that would mean it would only have been a matter of time before they came.
To be aware, or not to be aware? To know, or not to know?
Once again my mind was addled by stupid questions. What was done was done! I couldn't change the past even if I spent millenniums wishing I could!
"Mr. Viduri?" The chief's voice snapped me from my thoughts, returning me to reality. Sweat dripped from my forehead. The world felt hot. I looked down to see my fists clenched to such a degree that my protection barrier was actively trying to prevent me from piercing my own skin.
My mind was far from well. My emotions were no better tempered.