The first generation did not understand the words. But the second, those who grew up with them, began to make connections and see patterns in their lines of incomprehensible characters.
It was the second generation who translated them, the second generation who taught themselves the true nature of the calamities.
It was the second generation who led the uprising.
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Chapter Four
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“What does ejrana look like?”
“Like water but made of fire.” The kobold shook his head. “No, that is wrong too. It’s not wet or hot.”
“Where does it come from?”
“Everything that lives can learn to channel it with enough enteta. It doesn’t come from or go to anywhere, it only changes.”
“How is it used?”
“This servant does not know. If Lord Goldenflame commands, this servant can begin to unlock the use of ejrana, but it will be fifteen more levels before that will be possible.”
“What are levels, how many do you have, where do they come from?”
“Levels are how power is ranked and improved. This servant has seven levels. They come from acting, living, and using stats.”
“What is the System? Why is it in my mind?”
“It is in everyone, Lord Goldenflame. Since the Calamities, no one has been born without it.”
“But what is it?”
“A measure of reality and potential. This servant is not a very ho’wareb kobold, but has put several levels into alphit and batyu.” He appeared very proud of this nonsensical statement.
“What are alphit and batyu?”
“Alphit is … alphit. This servant does not know how to describe it.” He thumped himself on the chest. “This servant is more alphit than most. Batyu is how much can be moved, and to better damage enemies.” He made a few punches into the air in demonstration.
Valthurian’s alphit, batyu, and ho’wareb were all zero.
The kobold finished his clumsy combat dance, and bowed apologetically toward Valthurian’s dragon-head statue. “This servant cannot think of the words, Lord Goldenflame.”
Valthurian mentally sighed, but didn’t put in the effort to convey that in sound. It was becoming easier to shape his ‘voice’ but it was still a complicated process that required attention. He would not waste it on something so meaningless as a sigh.
“What about the other things on the stat sheet? Azripo’ah? Sevaho? What are they.”
“This servant is not very azripo’ah, Lord Goldenflame, if you desire something stolen you should find a different servant.”
All this talk of nonsense words was making Valthurian’s gemstone-self twitch with irritation. The kobold clearly didn’t know much about it anyway, or he would have been able to use synonyms that Valthurian could understand.
“Forget the nonsense words. Tell me what has happened in my absence. How is it that so few dragons remain? I refuse to believe that these ‘calamities’ could have been enough to bring low so mighty a race as ours.”
“This servant does not know much of history, Lord Goldenflame, only what is commonly taught. If there were ever more dragons than the Eight - Nine now that you have awakened - this servant has never heard the story.”
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This time Valthurian did take the effort of voicing his displeasure, a rumbling stony growl that shook the room. “Then tell me what history you do know.”
The kobold bowed deeply, and began to speak.
The history he knew, it turned out, was very dull and incredibly localized. He told of his tribe, scions of the Molten Rifts, some underground volcanic area which Valthurian had no knowledge of or interest in. But though if he’d had his body he would surely have devoured this ignorant messenger by now, to do so now would require more effort than the creature was worth.
The kobold described the terrain around the Molten Rifts, described the mighty diamond lair belonging to Regal Jade Mystery, Alasarnim Glimmerscale, went on at great length about how perfect in every way this dragon was, but eventually got around to something of more interest.
The orkin hid in their forests as they always had. They had grown more numerous in the years Valthurian had been sleeping, but still remained a scattered collection of small communities.
The human city was another story. It lay a bit to the north of Valthurian’s mountain, a ten-minute flight or so, but two day’s hard run to the kobold. The humans had grown so numerous they sprawled their cities across the grasslands, tearing up earth to make ever-taller mounds to live in.
Valthurian scoffed inwardly as the kobold spoke in awe of the ‘towers reaching the heavens’. Humans never had gotten over the fact that they weren’t dragons and never could be. Stupid humans.
“How is it Alasarnim Glimmerscale tolerates this invasive human presence?” Valthurian demanded. Without enough dragons around to keep their population down, it seemed they’d become a blight upon the land.
The kobold appeared confused. “Tolerate, Lord Goldenflame?”
“Even if this Regal Jade Mystery can’t eat her way through them fast enough, surely she could just burn their nest to the ground?”
The kobold’s face twisted in what Valthurian could only interpret as… horror? “Lord Goldenflame,” he choked out, “this servant is sorry, but did you suggest that the Regal Jade Mystery, Alasarnim Glimmerscale, would ever betray the Pact and…” he shuddered and his voice dropped uneasily, “eat a fellow person?”
Valthurian’s voice wheel ground to an abrupt halt, sending an echoing shriek out into the halls. The kobold dove to the ground, prostrating itself. “Apologies, Lord Goldenflame,” it said in a rush, “this servant did not mean to imply that you would ever speak so ill of another dragon, this servant accepts whatever punishment you may—“
“SHUT UP.” Valthurian’s control of his voice-wheel contraption was shaky, the roar more snarl than words, but the kobold clearly caught the intention because it fell still and quiet, trembling face down on the stone floor.
Valthurian’s gem-soul flared with crimson light, fury heating the stone around him and melting his gem a little deeper into the mountain stone.
‘Fellow person’? A dragon, giving humans the same consideration as they would each other or the ascended aelfir?
Weakness. If this was the kind of creature that dragons had become, then it was no wonder only eight of them survived. No, more, it was a wonder even eight had survived.
Humans were no threat individually, could be reasoned with, tricked, or consumed depending on the situation. But get a big enough pack of them together and they would nip at your heels with their accursed spells, some of which lesser dragons actually succumbed to. If the dragons had let humans grow this numerous? No wonder they were on the brink of extinction.
But though Valthurian’s wrath was quickly kindled, so too it faded in turn. He was old, strong, and above all else, patient. The humans would be dealt with in time. Right now, ensuring his own survival was more important.
When he spun his voice-wheel into motion, his manufactured voice carried no indication of his recent wrath. “You say the dragons rule the world yet? Despite this pact of equality?”
“Yes, mighty Lord Goldenflame," the kobold said, sounding proud of the fact. "Dragons have always ruled, since the day we were first formed from the Molten Rifts."
Valthurian refused to get bogged down in a discussion of kobold religion.
Silence filled the chamber. He tried to think what he could ask that the ignorant creature would be able to answer, but before he could decide he sensed a flicker of movement on the slopes of the mountain.
“Go and see who is coming,” Valthurian commanded. “Don’t be seen.”
The kobold squeaked in confirmation, jumping to his feet and racing down the maze toward the entrance.
Valthurian’s vision was entirely restricted to the mountain in a sphere around his soulstone. He could feel the faint tremors within the earth, but until whoever it was climbed higher they would remain outside of his range.
He waited patiently, tracking the progress of the approaching creatures. Three of them, if his read on the vibrations was correct.
And… he sensed something. Faintly. Familiar. He couldn’t quite discern it, but they grew ever nearer.
Then the kobold came rushing back, beginning to speak even as he bowed to Valthurian’s stone similitude.
“Three humans, Lord Goldenflame. They appear to be adventurers.” The kobold swallowed uneasily, voice dropping. “One of them has a sword with dragonbone.”
Valthurian felt a growing sense of anticipation and satisfaction. Finally! His wishing-dragon ploy was beginning to come to fruition.
As much as he may prefer to eat the humans for their arrogance, right now he’d take anything that could expand his ability to obtain the precious gold he now required to survive.
“Find a safe cavern to hide in. Don’t come out until I call.”
The kobold bowed and scampered away.
Valthurian’s gem gleamed a smug amber, as three well-equipped - and wealthy - adventurers stepped into his range.
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