Nala begins with an explanation, “When you approached me claiming need of the most basic of information, I had doubts, and assumed it was some manner of small-talk, or other conversation ploy. I offer my apologies, though humble they may not be. I often expect everyone I interact with to be as well-informed as I am. This, ahem, causes occasional friction, as it appears I patronize individuals that prove otherwise.”
I gnaw my lips, trying not to laugh as I nod. I offer up, “You talk down to people that you find stupid or uninformed, got it.”
Nala can’t help her wry smirk as she nods, “Yes, precisely, if a tad crudely worded. I am at least attempting to rectify the idea within myself that all others are, or should be as informed as I. It shall we say, has been a difficult journey, to say the least.”
Biting my lips to keep from smiling at the implied self-deprecation, I nod along. Nala further explains, “Yes, so, to verify, you do not understand what your title entails, or what stating it signifies, amplifies, or activates?”
I shake my head, though I’m starting to get an idea. Nala looses a weary sigh, and I can understand instantly why people might feel that she’s patronizing to those less informed than her. Still, I kind of like her, despite the rude quirk. Nala starts off with, “Firstly, and in your case, likely most importantly, announcing yourself as a void dragon honoris causa will activate the show of your dragonforce, a tactic to ward off attack by inspiring fear through a show of literal force. Yours is among one of our strongers, though I can sense that it wanes within you for some reason. This emission of dragonforce will quell the desires of any whom would otherwise attempt to contest your rights to the dragonforces of those you slay. I imagine in the days to come, that will be of great import, though its import will lessen as the battles become more chaotic, when many will fall in the same battle, and keeping track of honor and rights will fall to the wayside in lieu of snatches for power.”
I fail to refrain from whistling appreciatively. I literally obtained the status of being known as a dragonslaying dragon with the right to consume the dragons I slay, a right, and honor, that I need, for my continued survival. Now I’m wondering if there are other void dragons, or if it’s a type that Kinzul made up for me.
As much as I’d like to ask, I fear interrupting Nala as she continues, “To be appointed a title within the order however, also grants you a fragment of Kinzul’s fractioned dragonforce, and announcing your title will aid in activating your Latent. Do you happen to know what yours is?”
I joke, using the exact same wording that the Sisters Hidden in the Mist told me, “Nothing.”
Nala begins to say, “Nonsense,” when she realizes the truth of the statement. She balks momentarily, before muttering, “Ah, yes, and that would be why our Lady decided on an otherwise mythological dragon. Well, one of the reasons.”
So much for there being others like me. I sigh, in a mix of dismay and relief. I try to inject a modicum of humor, “So what you’re saying is, dragons really do go around announcing themselves and their titles, speaking in third person and so on, because it actually helps them activate their powers?”
Nala nods in agreement of my assessment, “Quite so, though yours is—, I don’t know. Something that will require further research. There is a ban on magic that has held an uneasy truce together, that the title of archmage slightly circumvents. It costs Kinzul dearly to maintain that title for anyone. If you are to use magic, make certain that there are either no witnesses, or that it ends your foe instantly.”
I exhale through my nose in a half laugh as I grouse, “Ah, so that’s why Yisstendahl opened with a friggin’ meteor.”
Nala blinks twice in surprise before her eyes remain wide open, staring unfocused. She virtually vibrates, quivering in seeming fear once again. Did I accidentally hit one of her trauma triggers? I take the trembling claws of Nala’s left hand as I try to maintain the furthest distance I can from Nala while still offering up the proof of my presence as I softly call out, “Nala? Is this a panic episode? Are you okay?”
In a moment, Nala’s eyes focus, and she rattles her skull. When she notices where her hand is, she yanks it back, and coughs for a moment for a reason to avoid eye contact. I join her in faking a cough to avoid eye contact. Nala requests, “Please— don’t do that again. It’s not the comfort you might think it is, and I’m giving you verbal warning that I do not consent, though I appreciate your concern, and thank you for the attempt. Further attempts will not be tolerated.”
I gasp and gulp as my heart catches in my throat as I try to apologize, “I, of course, most definitely. I’m so very sorry. I respect your autonomy and boundaries. I did not mean to violate them. I’m— I didn’t have a chance to ask. I’m very, very terribly sorry.”
Nala nods before waving it off, “Thank you, it’s fine, pay it no mind. I was the first to grab you without prior consent, a rather embarrassing display on my part. May I trust that you consider us even?”
I blush and try to hide my smile as I respond, “I um, consent. In advance. If you need a hug, ever, or have to grab someone in terror, or whatever.”
Nala fiddles with the positioning of her glasses on her scaled snout, managing to look irritated as she does, before responding, “Right,” elongating the word for longer than is comfortable. The implication is driven home plenty well enough.
I believe I am what some would call a cuddleslut. Despite what I enjoy, whatever Nala’s reasoning, I absolutely respect her boundaries. Ugh, I should have realized when she was talking about not copulating or whatever. She was being so obtuse, but it’s my fault, I didn’t think about how her asking about the clarity of her statement could imply its meaning more broadly. I even brought up Dawn, who was averse to my contact.
I’m such a friggin’ dunce sometimes. I am mildly curious as to if there’s any particular reason, but that can stay a curiosity. Whether her reason’s a dislike of physical contact, a dislike of me, germophobia or mysophobia, or she just doesn’t want to, or any other reason, or combination of reasons, her reasons are her own and she doesn’t owe those reasons to me. I feel badly about having taken Nala’s hand during her panic episode, but all I can do to make up for it is to respect her boundaries and act accordingly.
Nala queries, “Yisstendahl opened a fight with the highest tier of magics? With one of the deadliest spells in all the realms? In the time since I aided Lady Kinzul in identifying you? Before you were titled and aliased? Yet, here you are before me.”
I nod to each before explaining, “Oh, I’d have been a little more dinged up if it had actually hit me, but Teuila smashed a big enough hole in it before it impacted. The goober broke her hand doing it. It’s not the first time we’ve been hit with a meteor anyway.”
Nala looks like she’s about to topple over, so I ask, “Would you be okay if I aided you with telekinesis?”
The tentative nod as Nala is crumpling towards the ground seems to be an affirmative, so I catch Nala telekinetically, and right her, immediately removing my telekinetic presence after. Nala asks, “Telekinesis? Draconic resilience, prior to titling? Archmage status? What has Lady Kinzul gotten us into?”
I probably shouldn’t joke about this, but I quip, “If it helps, I’m only almost four months old on this world. Or like two and a half years old overall, or something.”
I bite my lips and try not to snort a laugh as I attempt to breathe deeply through my nose. Unfortunately my joking additional bravado encourages a poor reaction from Nala, as she faints. I cradle her in my telekinesis, carefully propping her up, ready to release her from it the instant she rouses. To her credit, she rouses rather quickly.
Nala grouses, “Ancients work tirelessly for decades to achieve such power, and you’re naught but a precocious child?”
At that, I barely refrain from pouting as a joke. Instead I furrow my brow as I frown. I respond, “No, I was never a child, I never had a childhood. I spawned with memories, and knowledge equivalent to that of any adult. Plus, I’ve got those millions of years trapped in the temple of time, though they don’t really count as training, since they only augmented my time traveling skill.”
Nala flubs, overenunciating, “Your what,” the aych is sounded before the double ewe, and there’s no lilt of a questioning tone in her flummoxed state.
Oh, right, I forgot to list that one for Kinzul, because it’s mostly stuck back on Can’Z’aas. I ammend, “Oh, that one isn’t available right now, probably. Nor is my ability to access my space skill, which is mostly just putting things into, and taking things out of an interdimensional storage at will, with some control over their velocity and trajectory on exit and such.”
Nala’s brow raises as she mutters, “Time, and space.”
At that I blush, because I’ve had similar thoughts myself. Nala looks me over, seemingly attempting to discern if I’ve been having fun at her expense, and apparently concludes that I haven’t. She rests the palm of her left clawed hand upon her scaled brow and shakes her head incredulously.
Nala mutters, “First, Kinzul ‘adopts’ a self-claimed nearly infant aged dragon that has the ferocity of an ancient, and the power of an adult. A son that comes with his strange bard, and stranger hound, and now this?”
Avoiding eye contact I grimace as I joke, “I uh, tend to shake things up wherever I go, unintentionally for the most part, sorta. Well, okay, I meddle a lot, but I try to have good, wholesome reasons, or just reasons, and such.”
Nala frowns as she responds, “And you would like an update on current events, so that you can enact such meddling?”
Blushing and grimacing further, I nod, but quickly add, “Only at the order of Lady Kinzul, or if she orders me to prioritize like she did earlier, only to the benefit of the Order of the Onyx Dawn. I, I mean, I think. That’s why I want to know what the Order stands for, what we’re up against, who we are, why we are, all of that. I want to be a good person. I want to be worthy of the title that people keep putting on me.”
Nala mouths the word hero, and I nod sadly. Nala motions me to follow her, and asserts, “Right, it seems you’ll be needing a history lesson, this will be much simpler if we’re properly seated and situated, and have appropriate visual aids. I do wholeheartedly, honestly believe you’ll find that, of the factions available, you’ve joined the one most just.”
I sigh with relief, and blush at the sentiment being so apparent. My stomach rumbles, and I’m reminded that I haven’t eaten in twenty hours. Nala eyes me suspiciously for the noise, and I shrug my shoulders apologetically. She rolls her eyes and stalks more quickly away towards one end of the library. I notice a large store of hardtack, and other very dry breads. Nala grabs two loaves, and finishes leading me to a grand table, with plenty of space for visual aids, and studying. She motions for me to sit and eat one loaf that she hands me, while she flits her way about, grabbing tomes, maps, and the like, for the upcoming history lesson.
I fight to gnaw through the incredibly stale bread, and thankfully my Can’Z’aasian digital nature kicks in, or, huh, maybe my void dragon nature kicks in, and the mouthful of food I manage to bite off teleports to wherever my stomach is, or whatever takes the place of my stomach, since I don’t have a normal gastric system. That does get me to thinking though. My title supposedly helps me express or utilize my Latent. Possibly at the cost of my, or Kinzul’s dragonforce. I don’t want to experiment if it would put undue strain on Kinzul, or honestly any strain on either of us. Having a term for the innate talent though feels like one step closer to understanding. My Latent is Nothing. I’m given the standing of an honorary dragon of a nonexistent dragon type that sounds like it suits such a Latent too.
I’ve also been warned to not be caught using magic, unless it’s an instant fight-ender. I assume the warning is for specifically when around the other factions. Ah, crap, I hit Yisstendahl with a lightning bolt from a staff, no wonder he went for the meteor, he was one upping me to the maximum. I guess I could have at least announced myself and my desire to fight. Actually, the sneak was baiting me into attacking, by calling out vague threats, and circling me. It worked. I’m such a fool. I’ll have to be more wary next time. I lucked out that I wasn’t a part of any Order yet, so being baited into being dishonorable didn’t really end up mattering.
Still, I can see why Kinzul was impressed with the dual object telekinesis. Invisible magic that has instantaneous spontaneous effect would be hard to prove. I may have to limit my spell use to greatest shadowy evocation at point blank range. I think dragons are going to start catching on to that, and finding ways to try to keep me away, but I don’t really have anything else in my arsenal nearly as powerful. If more and more dragons come to realize I’m darn-near immune to, like, three and a half, maybe four’ish types of breath weapons, they’ll start fighting me with their tails and wings, then I’ll actually be doomed.
So far, it has been to my benefit that dragons picture me as an insect, worthy of only a single breath attack, or something along those lines, more or less. Now that I’m going to have to go around proclaiming myself as a dragon, they might think more strategically. I may be a small target, but they don’t have to be very accurate to send me tumbling from a wing buffet, or to swipe an area with their tails. I also have to keep in mind that Kinzul may be sending me up against dragons with underlings, or simply platoons or armies of Draconiacs or kobolds. Being assailed from several sides, netted, lassoed, restrained, or any number of things, could make it impossible for me to get into position to loose the Balefire.