Ep 102. Confessions of the Historian: Problem Child
A problem child is defined not by themselves, but by the world around them.
When the child fails to meet the expectations of those around them, they are thereby regarded to be a defect, possessing a problem in one or more aspects. From birth, children are predicted of their future; the closeness they share to their predicted selves is what dictates how they are viewed.
An expectation to look a certain way; an expectation to learn certain things; an expectation to behave in certain ways. The areas are endless, and reasons likewise endless to regard a child as problematic.
…You were expected to fall, drowning in misery of your hopeless future. You were to become the lowest of your kind, forever to remain alone and behind.
Alas, you failed to meet this expectation.
And that was reason enough for others to regard you as a problem.
✧ ✧ ✧
“Xar. You took longer than I’d expected.”
“…My apologies.”
“Nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t too difficult here, anyhow.”
“…”
Xar emptily stared into the barren landscape stretching before them. The flourishing valleys had turned barren over a single night, the only saving grace the lack of discoloring on the soil they stood on.
And standing beside the Akeian commander was the empire’s only emperor, triumphantly holding up the prize he’d come for between his fingers. A small, golden jewel of the wooden ring reflected the dawning sunlight.
“…I take it you didn’t use true magic.”
“Why? So you could learn it?”
“…”
After a momentary pause, the emperor burst into laughter. Even though he couldn’t read Xar’s expression, it was easy enough to guess at what he was thinking at times.
“I kid. There was simply no need; the dragons weren’t as big an obstacle as I thought they’d be. Many were busy running away instead of fighting. And it wouldn’t do to destroy their invaluable remains.”
“…But then, the reason behind experimenting the dragonkin’s weakness was…”
“Amusing, wasn’t it?”
“…?”
After fitting the ring around his finger, the emperor turned to his commander, shrugging.
“I’m not very fond of them, Xar – dragons, elves, what have you. I could never get used to their undeserved, mighty attitude. Blindly believing themselves to be the superior race…and look where that got them.”
“…”
Amadeus Lavnore. An individual said to be the greatest mage to ever walk the star, but also to be the worst mage to ever be born.
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After the birth of his empire, Lavnore became the first ruler to be of a mage background. However, the man possessed neither prudence nor grace: qualities that were thought to be a given amongst all wielders of magic. Due to the emperor’s unquestioned rule and incomparable strength, it didn’t take long until he was called a dictator, not just of his own empire, but of the continent itself.
Even though he was barely of age, and certainly not at an age to be regarded as king.
“Speaking of…Xar, what of the keepers’ remains?”
“…I left them be?”
“That won’t do. Look, can’t you see all those soldiers working away to fit those sliced dragons into their inventories?”
“…”
“I realize they won’t be as valuable given they died in their reduced forms, but you never know when we’ll need such specimen. Go retrieve them both.”
“…Their daughter should still be with them.”
“So? Kill her then.”
“…As I recall, you promised that the hatchling would be spared.”
“I did. You did not.”
“…?”
“Kill the offspring and retrieve the bodies, Xar. Apparently, those three were the last of the steel dragons – it wouldn’t be bad to end their legacy here altogether.”
Though Xar intended to respond against the idea, the emperor’s cold gaze clearly stated that the matter was not for discussion.
And finally, the commander let out a surrendering sigh. The choice wasn’t his to begin with.
“…As you wish, your majesty.”
✧ ✧ ✧
When Xar lowered his gaze, the two steel dragons were lying on the ground, just as they had when he’d left them. Their hatchling was also above her mother just as he’d left her, asleep after exhausting herself from crying.
“…Hm.”
No ravens had come to peck away the dead; no wolves had come to feast on the bodies; no dragon had come to save the remaining child. Not a single life had come prior to the commander’s return.
‘They already take you for dead, don’t they.’
When the commander stretched out his hand towards the small dragon, she held tighter onto her mother’s body, feeling the approaching threat even in her unconscious.
Xar frowned at the sight of her little hands desperately clinging to the lifeless body.
“…”
There was no reason to keep this hatchling alive, especially if her own kin had given up on her. Especially when considering how problematic steel dragons could be when fully grown.
But instead of coming here himself, the emperor had elected to send Xar. Alone, at that.
Reversely, that meant the man cared little for what the commander actually did here.
“…I suppose we’ll be enemies when we meet again.”
When Xar loosened his arm to carefully wrap it around the hatchling, Raizel’s body eased noticeably as she was lifted off from her mother’s corpse. The sight of hatchling’s ease viciously gnawed at the commander’s conscience.
He turned his head, scanning the valleys stretching behind them.
‘If they’d run away, then they’d be at…’
✧ ✧ ✧
“Is that everyone? I’d better hurry ba-“
“Hold, Bruton.”
The black dragon turned his head when he felt his friend grabbing his shoulder. They were shaking their head, pulling him back from taking off into the air.
“…It’s too late. You know it just as well as I do.”
“…”
Fresh blood spilt from Bruton’s bitten lips. Even though it’d been for the sake of protecting the fleeing children, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling he’d just abandoned his comrades to save his own life.
“But…”
“It’s useless, my friend. Think how sad Aether will be when you’re not there to raise your newborn.”
“…Right…”
The black dragon let out a long sigh, turning around to return and join the others. But just as he did so, a cold, freezing breeze brushed past his wings from behind.
The black dragon immediately tensed, swinging his arm coated in flames. But where he’d expected an enemy to be, nothing was behind him.
Or, to be more specific…something was behind him. It was just too small for him to see immediately.
“…What was that? The wind just now, that was-”
“Bruton, beneath you…”
When the two elders lowered their gaze, a sleeping hatchling came to sight, her little tail coiled around her snout. She seemed to be whimpering, but neither could make out what she was saying in her sleep.
“Raizel? How is she still…?”
“L, let us make haste! We can’t afford to keep a child out here.”
“…R, right.”
Bruton held the steel dragon in his arms, taking flight to return to where the remaining kin were. Though he didn’t know how she’d been able to appear behind him so suddenly, keeping the remaining children safe was their first and foremost concern.
And when he held her close, the old dragon could finally make out the hatchling’s words.
“…I’m sorry. I won’t go out alone again…”
“…”
“…Don’t leave…”
✧ ✧ ✧
Perhaps it was the very sympathy that bound you to the dead. Despite your iron will to move forward, others bound you to your loss, wishing you would sink beneath their feet.
…
A small recognition. A token of kindness. That was all that was needed to relieve you of your pains.
So turn away, and never look back.
Nothing lasts but my own will. And so, you must leave them behind.
You cannot take them with you.