I awoke the next morning to the chirping of birds and the sight of the sun cresting over the hilltops, dying the sky a brilliant orange. I began to stretch my neck, only to cause a few feathered friends that I hadn't noticed to fly off of me. They had likely decided to make themselves at home on my spines to enjoy the warmth I radiated.
"Good morning, my little alarm clocks," I said quietly as they landed on a nearby pine.
Since learning that I'd be safe sleeping outdoors, I had come to really enjoy doing so. The natural beauty of the world was a lot more obvious when you no longer felt threatened by anything hidden within it. Though, something inside me still preferred a spacious cave. A dragon's need for a den, I guessed.
I deeply inhaled the smell of unpolluted air and hummed in satisfaction. I reminded myself to enjoy the little things in life, as they soothed my homesickness more than anything else,. I took a final, feline stretch and went through my morning meditation.
Afterward, I decided to kill some time with cardio and began to sprint alongside the fissure. I was already a faster runner than I was as a human, and I looked forward to getting even faster with age. I cheerfully greeted each kobold on morning watch duty as I passed them, chuckling at every zealous response I got. Two hours and many laps later, a familiar winged kobold flew out to greet me.
"Good morning, Prince Amartho. I see you are up early today." Greeted my old teacher, Rahga.
"Blame the birds. Now come, I've been waiting for you!" I replied with a laugh and joined him in the air.
As I flapped my wings I savored the ever-wondrous sight of the world getting smaller and smaller beneath me. Rahga joined in my ascent, flying by my side as we climbed over 1000ft in altitude.
"I'll never tire of this," I said with a smile.
"I've got two centuries under my scales, and I still haven't!" He cheerfully responded.
I let some time pass in silence so we could enjoy a moment together before looking over and asking, "So, when are you going to tell me why you wanted to hide the spirits in your magic?"
Rahga staggered in the air, plummeting a few hundred feet before urgently flapping his wings to come back up, pleading, "Please, Prince Amartho, I beg of you, mention this to no one else! My reputation is at stake!"
"Rahga, you're still not telling me what's going on," I replied, giving him a funny look for effect.
"Yes, well, I... I... I cheated! I'm a fraud, young prince, a fraud! Don't you see? I'm not really a pure sorcerer!" Rahga cried out.
"Woah, slow down there sensei. Not a pure sorcerer? I'm going to need a few more details before I can understand what's eating at you."
"As you wish." Rahga sighed. "It all began with my venturing toward Dragon's Mortal Sanctuary. That part was true; I was looking for a way to grow as a sorcerer..."
And so, my old teacher revealed that despite his best efforts and the knowledge provided by the village's powerful residents, he had still hit a wall in progress. Half of the issue was that he was already pretty advanced in his craft, but the other was that no sorcerers were residing among the humans.
This made perfect sense, as sorcerers were perhaps the rarest type of caster to emerge from the intelligent races, excluded those that descended from dragons. Sorcerers almost always resulted from some kind of exotic bloodline, and even then, generations could pass before a child was born with the gift.
Desperate to progress, Rahga compromised and branched out in his approach. One of the village's powerful individuals was a half-orc shaman who went by the name, Marlog, and he agreed to take Rahga as his understudy. With Marlog's help, Rahga was able to make a pact with the primordial spirit of fire, achieving new heights in his magic and cementing his status on Dragon's Head. All of this had occurred about a century ago, and he had lived with his secret ever since.
"...and so you see, if the head sorcerers of the other tribes found out, I'd be ruined." Concluded Rahga.
"All because you dual-classed into shaman? But, that's so cool! Er- cool is a compliment. It means amazing, but in a way that is especially fashionable and admirable. Anyway, I bet not just anyone could form a pact with a primordial spirit. Doesn't it just prove how gifted with fire you are? I really don't understand why you have to hide anything; what you've done should be considered a big accomplishment!" I encouraged.
Rahga shook his head.
"Your words deeply move me, but the others won't see it that way." He said with a frown. "Our sorcery comes from our draconic blood; it is a source of pride for kobolds. With every tribe's head sorcerer vying for my position at the top, they would see my diverging from the path as cheating in our mostly-friendly competition."
"Well that's a bit stupid, or at least, annoyingly narrow-minded." I scowled. "I don't mean to be impolite, but that kind of thinking only serves to hold kobolds back in the world. Teacher, your secret is safe with me, but when I'm stronger and have more cultural sway, I'm going to help kobolds broaden their views."
"Thank you, Prince Amartho. I believe you." Said Rahga with a gentle smile.
"Good. Now let's go get breakfast, I'm starving!"
----------------------------------------
Another week later, I had accomplished the feat of shaving a whopping two seconds off my sixty-second proto-firebolt. The projectile I could create was still total crap and It seemed that practice wasn't making perfect. However, through tinkering and experimentation with my approach, I discovered a strange breakthrough: When casting the spell while my aura was activated, the time it took to form my firesplinter went down by half. The attack was still functionally useless, but the finding led me to believe that it wasn't my age holding me back, but something else. It was as though my spell was missing an ingredient, or I was doing something fundamentally wrong.
Rahga and the others weren't able to help either, as my sorcery functioned differently from theirs. I kept practicing anyway because making fire appeared out of thin air was rad, and because I was eager to reach proficiency in cantrips so I could move on to tier-one magic. Even if my dragonfire was already equivalent to about a tier-three spell, despite my being a wyrmling, it was the versatility of magic that I craved. Access to other elements and special effects would help me deal with a wider assortment of enemies and make it easier to avoid melee combat. Even the firebolt spell, when cast correctly, had its uses as it would reach four times the range of my breath attack.
On the bright side, Rahga opening up to me about his little secret led to him teaching me about shamanism in private. He taught me that shamans acted as a guide for their people, and as a means of helping others connect with their ancestors, other planes of existence, various spirits, and even Angnora itself. They were guardians of balance and harmony.
While I enjoyed learning anything and everything about the various classes and systems on Angnora, I had no inclination towards pursuing shamanism. Though, the ability to commune with primordial spirits and better connect with the world were tempting. Mom had told me I was meant to become the judge of this world, so why not learn to communicate with it?
Thinking twice, I realized that with an immeasurable lifespan I shouldn't be crossing anything off just yet. There were no convenient game systems for me to cheat, but that also meant no system to hold me back from dabbling in everything. With enough time, I would likely be able to practice a plethora of abilities to the level of mastery, and with centuries ahead of me, I might even be able to surpass the supposed limits of the mana-using classes.
I realized that the reason dragons hadn't already done so was likely due to their nature. Both their tendency to hyper-focus on a single passion, as well as their immense patience which mortals often mistook for laziness. My kind knew they had all the time in the world and would become far more powerful just by aging. This meant there was a reasonable lack of pressure to perform. That being said, Cénësarin'yesanya, the Great Wyrm of Magic, was a prime example of just how dangerous a diligent dragon with a combat-related passion could become. The only reason she wasn't ranked higher among The Five Great Wyrms was due to our species' natural spell resistance, which diminished her effectiveness against her elders.
"She's a genuine genius, according to mom, so I won't likely be able to catch up to her in magic. But, does that even matter?" I reasoned to myself. "My divine spark is likely to one day grant me abilities and power unlike that of any dragon before me, and even if ol' Cenny will stay at the top in magic, it doesn't make it any less important for me to learn. Maybe I'll fuse casting with other combat systems! I bet there's never been a dragon monk before! That might make melee combat a lot more tolerable. Mmm, I guess I should learn some kind of martial art so I can kick ass up close when forced to. Plus, after reading all those wuxia novels online, I practically owe it to my 'fellow cultivators.'"
My dreams of beating down armies with an endless stream of attacks would have to wait, as a kobold messenger declared that Chieftain Sjigg and his warband had finally returned.
"Rahga, you old bastard!" Shouted the grizzled chieftain, He rushed to give my teacher a warm embrace. "So you really were telling the truth! A dragon as a pupil! What an honor! Truly, what an honor!"
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
His entire group was decked out in leather armor and crude iron weaponry, a rarity among kobolds. He had many old scars littering his arms and face, but none across his sharp eyes. Some of the soldiers behind him were wounded, evidence of the hard battles they must have been returning from.
"Ah, where are my manners?!" Sjigg exclaimed. He jogged over and knelt before me and his men followed suit. "Sjigg of the Firescale Tribe greets the mighty Amartho'Manadhmedion! After we received word of your arrival from our runners, we rushed back to meet you. We will be eternally grateful for your assistance in battle!"
Seeing how genial he was, I decided to let the matter of him mentioning Rem with a rude title wait until a better time.
"But of course, chieftain." I nodded. "How could I idle about when I heard that my teacher's people were locked in an endless struggle? I imagine you and your comrades are weary from your journey home, so please, rest up. We can discuss the war tomorrow."
"I thank you for your thoughtfulness, Great One, but if you're willing, I'd rather begin discussions immediately! My men can rest, but my bones are full of excitement at the chance to make a real dent in those damn trolls." Sjigg replied.
Seeing how eager he was, I gave my assent and we moved to their war room. We created the odd image of a dragon and several kobolds sitting around a misshapen stone table. It felt a bit cramped, but I kept that to myself.
Sjigg, his generals, his advisor, and Rahga, argued over how to best add me to their fights. They always asked me for my opinion, but since I had zero experience, I agreed with whatever they proposed.
After a few hours of debating and logistical matters that went over my head, four troll gangs were chosen as my targets. It was decided that we'd face them in an order based on their theoretical risk levels. That way we could avoid biting off more than we could chew. If things got too hairy, the kobolds were willing to retreat and wait for me to get older to return and finish the job.
The first target was an abnormally large gang of trolls and ogres that had banded together. An ogre was usually considered to be a lesser opponent than a troll, due to their lack of freakish regeneration, but their superior size, strength, and lack of extreme vulnerability to fire made them a nightmare for the Firescale tribe. An ogre could rip a tree out from the roots and flatten multiple kobolds with a single throw and was powerful enough to stomp right through their ranks.
Since this gang acted as nomadic marauders, the plan was to have multiple platoons of kobolds flank them from all sides and use guerilla warfare to keep them pinned while I and a group of winged kobolds attack from above. But first, I'd attempt to ambush them the night before the battle, under the cover of darkness, and see if I could reduce their numbers while they were unprepared. They reportedly had nets that they used to capture and torment prey, so I'd have to avoid getting snared mid-flight or I might be screwed. The dragonwrought warriors and sorcerers would hang back, out of range, ready to burn a net off of me in the worst-case scenario.
The reason they hadn't already applied these tactics was that the calculated losses would've been too severe. Without dragonfire pressuring them, the kobold ground troops would've had to fight more aggressively to keep the gang pinned. But with my terrifying presence and large size combined, it was likely that our opponents would focus on throwing their rocks and stone-tipped javelins at me, sparing kobold lives and letting our ground troops have a more manageable time.
The second gang was only a third of the size of the first but was led by a two-headed troll mutant who seemed to be relatively more intelligent than his brethren and possessed a much stronger regenerative trait. He was named Grag-Grug because at every encounter they had with him, one head would shout, "Grag!" and the other, "Grug!"
The problem with this group was that they had taken residence in a cave to the northeast, and would fight defensively when outnumbered due to Grag-Grug's leadership. That and he had his gang wear animal pelts that they coated with the goop of slimes they killed, helping to stave off some incoming fire damage. As a result, when they retreated into their cave it became a kobold-meatgrinder.
The plan was simple, use only kobold forces to trick them into bunkering up, then use me as at the vanguard to kill them with superior firepower. Again, they hadn't tried this with Rahga, who could conjure fire that was currently superior to my breath attack, because they couldn't risk losing him. He was their only sorcerer that had enough firepower to reliably take down Grag-Grug, but while funneled into a cave it was more likely that some of Graggy's subordinates would take Rahga out with projectiles.
It was at this point in the discussion that I understood I was partially being used as a giant meatshield, but with my draconic vitality and thick hide, I could see the wisdom in it. However, that didn't stop me from dreading how badly the trolls' cave would likely smell.
The third gang was where the difficulty would ramp up, to the point that it was agreed that we would enlist help from another neighboring tribe, The Stoneclaws. This was because the target would be a group of mountain trolls. Twice as large as their cousins, and with thick stony material in the place of skin, fire magic wasn't going to be that effective against them.
The Stoneclaw Tribe specialized in earth sorcery and were going to help by using their magic to defend against the huge boulders the mountain trolls would surely be tossing. The Stoneclaw's sorcerers would primarily use geomancy to conjure defensive walls and try to divert the enemy's projectiles mid-flight.
As for actually killing them? The devised method was for small groups of kobolds to risk their lives on foot, using crude iron chains to bind the mountain trolls' legs. Then, with overwhelming amounts of attacks and an aerial dive bomb from me, we would knock the bound trolls over and send them tumbling down the mountainside. Their own weight would ensure they were battered and broken to death by the fall.
Finally, there was a gang of lava trolls. Saved for last due to their resistance to fire, obviously. They inhabited a volcanic cave system in the north that used to be occupied by kobolds. Said kobolds had mined a little too deeply, and lo' and behold, lava trolls were released. It was another location rich with minerals and ores, so the kobolds really wanted this territory back.
For that fight, the Firescale sorcerers and I would actually be taking a supportive role, and enlist help from yet another tribe, The Sapphirefangs, as our offensive force. You guessed it, they specialized in water sorcery.
Even so, the lava trolls' regenerative capabilities were only slightly inferior to that of their forest brethren, so it was going to be an extraordinarily dangerous battle. At least it would be for the kobolds, but not me. Our strategists believed that there was going to be little I could do to harm the lava trolls, and little they could do to me. Really, this final gang target was more of an afterthought than a full-on campaign. If having me in the fight went well, terrific, if not, we'd all retreat and hightail it out of there.
The best part in all this for me was that I had a mentor to reunite within both the Stoneclaw and the Sapphirefang tribes. I couldn't wait for all this to be over so we could spend some time sharing in friendly company, in peace.
"I believe that about wraps things up. Anything else, Sjigg?" Asked Rahga.
"No, I think you're right, old friend. Now we're finally going to make those damn trolls pay all the kobold blood they've spilled over the years!" Sjigg clenched his fist, Rahga put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Do you have anything you'd like to add, Great One?"
"Not really." I lightly shook my head. "As I said, your people know the way that trolls fight better than I do, so I trust in your strategies. I'm sure Rahga already informed you that I didn't exactly love my first encounter with those monsters. But I want you to know that I feel a great affection and debt toward kobolds, so I'll do my best to fight as brutally as possible and minimize casualties on our side."
"Thank you, Great One." Sjigg bowed.
"Thank you, Great One!" Repeated everyone else present.
I felt the mounting pressure of living up to their expectations and accepted it. The meeting was drawn to a close and the entire tribe was set into motion, completing tasks to prepare for the war.
----------------------------------------
A week later, Sjigg's warband had healed up with the help of the tribe's healers, and we received word that both the Stoneclaw's and the Sapphirefangs had agreed to join us in the final two battles. It was a given since I was involved.
I also realized that I'd been able to maintain a much better mood ever since I put my previous battle behind me. It was as if the dragon in me was trying to say, "So you killed some trolls, so what? They had it coming! Learn from the past, make choices, and keep moving forward!"
And if so, it was right. It was a way of thinking I had learned to adapt on Earth, but being reborn here must have made my mindset regress. Having your life taken from you is no small pill to swallow, after all. Regardless, I was re-determined to see my choices through and live in the moment.
I had decided to hold in my heart the principle that killing was always supposed to be a grave matter and to push back against the barbaric predator instinct in me that enjoyed it. Perhaps one day soon I'd be able to find delight in the heat of combat, but I would never celebrate the deaths of my foes. This I vowed. Nevertheless, I was excited about the upcoming fights. I'd perform better this time, I had to.
Sjigg and I were standing at the front of an army of two hundred kobolds, each awaiting the words of their chieftain.
"Firescale Warriors, today marks the turning point in the war to defend our land!" Shouted Sjigg, as he paced across the frontlines. "My brothers, for far too long, we have endured a bloody stalemate. For far too long have our fellow kobolds bled and died just to maintain the status quo! For far too long, the trolls have slaughtered our people!"
I could feel the anger of the army increase with every line out of Sjigg's mouth. The grips on their weapons tightened, and many started to growl under their breath.
"In the Battle of Dragon's Glade, seventy of our brothers gave up their lives! At the Skirmish of Dragon's Spine, another eighty! In the Invasion of Dragon's Ravine, our very home, two hundred! And in the great battles led by my father, and his father before him, countless more kobold lives have been lost. I ask you, were their deaths in vain?!"
"No!" The entire army screamed back, as loud as they could, stomping their feet and smacking the butt of their spears against the ground.
Sjigg grinned with approval. "Correct! They were not! Those kobolds fought and died to protect the future of our tribe. They fought and died for all of you, who carry their spirits! They fought and died so that one day, all of our kind may prosper in peace! And now, we find ourselves called upon to honor their sacrifice yet again. We shall not fail our ancestors!"
As the army cheered, I spotted Aark in a nearby platoon, clutching the dragonclaw spear I gave him and looking eager for battle. I no longer felt the same, as the speech only made it sink in that not all of these kobolds were going to make it home alive and that I was in way over my head.
"Warriors of The Firescale Tribe, I said today is the turning point of the war, and I meant it. I believe it with every drop of blood in my veins. For today, the great dragon, Amartho'Manadhmedion, firstborn of The Worldscar, graces us with his aid! Today, we are finally chosen! Let our new lord hear the dragon blood in your hearts! Firescale Tribe, let me hear you roar!"
Sjigg joined in their thundering warcry. When they finished, he looked in my direction, and soon the whole army was facing me and shouting. I could see the hope, reverence, and faith in their eyes.
"What have I done?" I questioned, only to immediately correct myself. "No, none of that. It's too late to indulge in that kind of thinking. All that matters is what lies ahead. Four victories, and a better path for these kobolds."
Sjigg walked up to me and said quietly, "Not bad, ey Great One? Would you like to say a few words to the troops? It'd be great for morale."
Seeing all that they had placed upon my shoulders, I could only say, "Alright."
I walked front and center and faced the masses. Beyond the brave faces they put on, I knew their fear of death. I had no idea how to top Sjigg's speech, so I decided to say only that which I felt would matter to them.
"We shall be victorious!" I shouted as loud as I could.
I roared at all of them, sweeping my head from facing one side of the army to the other, looking out at them with wild eyes. I punctuated my promise with a long breath of dragonfire toward the sky.
I could only pray that my display would light a fire in their hearts for the long road ahead.