I started to reread the passage of the last moments leading to the final confrontation against myself, the last things I would read before destroying this scroll.

We knew who the dragon was. My group had traveled halfway across the world in order to find it. The disgusting creature appeared to be weak and have little more than parlor tricks left in its power as it left wards behind itself as it moved across this kingdom. We had gotten a description of its current form. A man of middling height with shaggy brown hair like that of a commoner. He wore a thick cloak meant for travel with a hard case for a lute strapped on his back. The dragon seemed to have a penchant for telling stories and gathering a little coin on its path.

The working theory was that this was the reincarnation of the dragon known as Profitable. It would be unheard of for a dragon to come back from its death, which although has never been confirmed by the kingdom as even the current king wouldn’t deal with the dragon hunting organization. Though we fought to free the world of the influence of these monstrous creatures. Either way its collection must be meager, something that would be able to be transported in the shape of a man with little to no known pack supplies outside of the bare necessities.

The two flirtatious members of our group who dealt with all the social infiltration aspects of this mission heard many things about how this being moved through society. It claimed to be a ‘Dolan Talespinner’ in most cities and made use of the most meager of accommodations while staying in a town. I suspected it was on some sort of path through the kingdom searching for something in particular. I’m unsure of what it could be though. I hoped against hope that it wasn’t searching for other members of its kind as the master thought that this was one of the last. That was if the other reports had been in truth.

I relished in the death we dealt the the Seamstress in the east. That blasted creature has been a quiet tyrant controlling all the trade of cloth in that entire realm. We had freed them from that tyranny so easily, it only took the destruction of the horde that it maintained and its scales grew so weak that our spears could pierce it. The unraveling of its power to try and escape played in my mind. The near explosion of cloth from its body as it shrunk itself by expanding its power in such a way.

I could remember the brave bastard that had charged and thrown the bag of powder into its maw as it went to use the ultimate weapon of the dragon. The breath. We had documented many of the ways the dragons would fight but their trump card always was their breath. A concentration of such thick transmutation magics that it would render all living beings it rolled over as nothing more than what the dragon would like to collect. The beast coughed on it and what little of its power escaped turned that brave soul into a pile of unspun yarn. We burned it along with all that the dragon had turned into just to be sure that it was truly destroyed.

I planned to confront the dragon soon. But before I did I made sure to send my compatriots away. I wanted the kill for myself. The honors I would get would be legendary. If I could keep it in the human form that it had chosen then that would be best. The rampage it could go on even if it was a small dragon would be impressive.

The fight didn’t go as planned though. I was now in its clutches as it stared down at me and began to rant about its struggles. The power of its horde it spoke of brought something to my mind. It gathered power in a way similar to Dreamer. Another dragon we had found that didn’t collect such solid things that most did. Somehow they survived on connections to human kind and siphoned off their souls like some sort of parasite. I closed my eyes as the beast took in a deep breath to wipe my existence away. I pulled what magic I had been taught and sent that information I had gathered to my team. The only spell we had stolen from so long ago was now used to give us the ultimate edge.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

‘The dragon we have faced collects stories, he has done so since the dawn of time. He connects to the people he has spoken to and siphons off of them. One of you head back to the monastery and the rest of you use this information to defeat the creature. I will be dying in a moment. Tell the master of my bravery.’

With this we would be able to defeat this powerful dragon. I didn’t know how they would use this information yet but it would be the most important discovery of my life. I felt the power roll over me and the change came…

I had told them the key to my power. In my foolish gloating I had handed the very worst of my enemies the key to how they could defeat me. I didn’t expect that my attacker had even an inkling of magic after I had thought to have wiped out all the wizards in the world. Yet these blasted Blood Hunt members had a way to magically communicate with others. I started pouring over what I knew of that sending spell.

It wasn’t too long range and had been said that it wouldn’t be too useful in long distance communication. There were talks once of setting and paying wizards to be in a relay across the lands. But the chance of the information being distorted and misinterpreted was plain to see. I cupped my face in my hands. I still had some hope. If his team wasn’t within fifty miles of his place of death I might be safe. However, I couldn’t rely on this. I thought of giving up on this mission to find Profitable and instead leave all these courts behind and immediately destroying this cult.

Rubbing my face and eyes I felt exhaustion sweep over me. I was so tired and now I had given away the one thing that had kept me safe from the cults. I hoped for my own sake that they didn’t tell the other cults that might be still alive through all these years.

A dark thought came to mind, a voice that I had long thought I had ended, ‘Be the calamity. Wipe the world clean of all those that don’t believe anymore. Being the wrath of the gods you should be.’

I thought of all the siblings I had lost, all those that I had raised from being a whelp to something grand enough to help save the world. These ungrateful mortals, it would be easy. Wipe out this city like Brewer had wiped out those armies. Climb to the highest tower and use a massive chunk of magic to roll my breath across the city and snuff out every last life here. In one fell swoop end them all. Maybe I would even catch those that might be hunting me.

If they were right and I gained my power from these connections to others than I would only lose what I had gained from speaking to those children and the young woman here in the study. It would be a pittance compared to everyone else I had spoken with. My ocean of magic must be from those stories handed down throughout time. The lullabies and bedtime stories that lasted through the ages.

How could I capitalize on this though. If he was right, and I think he was, then how could I best expand my power with this knowledge? I could maybe craft a few tavern songs that could be spread if it was catchy. If I didn’t have to directly spread them that would be a good way to grow in strength. Who was this Dreamer as well? I had never heard of a dragon with that name. Why hadn’t I finished reading this scroll sooner?

I began to pace around the room while I rubbed my chin in thought. How can they take my power from me? If I siphon off my power from others that have heard my stories how could that be taken away from me? I lost power while I slept unlike my brothers and sisters. “Because those that I’m attached to die…” I whispered to myself. “If it weren’t for people handing down stories traditionally I would have died long ago. What else could end lives than… war.” My head swam at the thought. Could the Blood Hunt be powerful enough to cause a war to break out? If they thought my power was concentrated in just this one kingdom then wouldn’t it be smart to try to kill as many of them as possible in an attempt to rob me of my strength?

My head swam as the implications rolled in my head. I stared into the distance and tried to keep everything straight in my head. Trying to look at the web of trouble I had caused. My one spilling of words had possibly led to a whole nation going to war all to lessen my strength. I would be responsible for thousands of dying people. Would the loss of this country be consequential enough to my strength that I would be weak enough to be killed? To be safe I would have to find a way for this war to go favorably for this kingdom.

That way the Blood Hunt would be the one that would be weakened. Without the support of a nation behind them they would be more susceptible to a counter attack. It wouldn’t be too hard for me to sway someone to counter attack and gain land from the aggressors. How could I make sure that this country won the battle and pushed further on.

I had to unite them somehow. Stop the backstabbing and make sure that they all countered with the most strength possible. Which means I needed the king to wield his authority to stop the attack from Truose to the Gaelin. If everyone here was truly a hostage then I needed the king’s ear. Pressure everyone else to focus on the war.

I needed an audience with the king. I had a guess on how I could manage that. I just needed to save another life is all, and I had a dinner to attend that would give me the chance.