A dragon's roar shook the mountain range of Kierrafeth, with the Evil Dragon's castle at its center. All the denizens in the surrounding area cowered under the rage of the Evil Dragon. Some started to pray for their lives, wondering if this was the day they would die. Others quickly hid under the table, thinking that this was simply an earthquake.
Amid the tense atmosphere, there was one particularly discordant voice.
"Your majesty, calm down!" shouted the dark elf, Breiroc, watching as the magical shield he hid behind slowly cracked.
Breiroc was currently regretting his decision to apply as a magical attendant for his practicum instead of following the less dangerous paths his classmates took at the Elven Academy.
Elves, as creatures closest to nature, were the top choice among dragons when choosing magical attendants. And elves also loved working for dragons, for dragons were known to be rich, generous, and sleeping for years on end. It was less work for more pay. However, there were way more elves than dragons, so every cycle the competition was always fierce.
Breiroc had known that he didn't stand a chance as a dark elf, so he came up with a bold idea: To apply where there was no competition at all—as a magical attendant for the Evil Dragon, Cilestras the Black Dragon.
His advisor called for him when he saw his application and said, "No one has applied to work under the Cilestras for, well, ever. Are you certain you must go?"
Young and naive, Breiroc had patted his chest and assured his worried advisor that he would be more than okay. His reasoning was simple: He was the best among the dark elves, so of course he had to follow the darkest among dragons. Who else could it be if not the Black Dragon?
Listen to that arrogance; didn't he deserve a beating?
Breiroc wished he could travel back in time and slap his younger self.
Yes, the pay was great; yes, there was little work. In his five years of practicum, he had only been called once so far to handle a task, but that task was now costing his life.
Breiroc was only 358 years old. He was practically a baby. He still had so much life to live.
As more cracks appeared on his magical shield, Breiroc really felt like crying without tears. Two years of pay were gone just like that.
"Your majesty," he shouted again when he saw that the Evil Dragon was preparing another roar, "the Queen is still alive. We must find a healer quickly!"
Cilestras looked at him then, his aura whipping around the throne room. "I have poured my powers into him, yet he still slumbers. Do you take me for a fool?"
"The Queen is a human. Perhaps a human healer is needed?"
Cilestras paused, thinking. He quickly recalled his powers back to his body, but the cracks on the walls and floors could attest to his anger. He stood up, saying, "Make haste," before leaving for where his Queen was situated.
Breiroc deactivated his shield, breathing a sigh of relief. He couldn't wait to graduate in 45 years.
–
On this day, a weird rumor spread among the villagers. Some of them claimed to have personally seen a wyvern carrying a dark elf and a human holy priest on its back, heading towards the mountain range of Kierrafeth.
"No", another human said, "not carrying—dragging. The dark elf tied up the human and brought it to fly."
"Why do you think the dark elf did that?"
"I don't know," one human said. "Are we about to go to war?"
"I hope not," another said. "Life is already tough. We do not need another war."
"Maybe the dark elf was bored and wanted a human to play with it?" asked someone out of the blue.
The villagers looked at him as if he had grown two heads. Seeing that it was him again, they ignored him and carried on the conversation like nothing had happened.
A man called his fellow villagers closer to whisper, "I heard something, but you must promise to keep it a secret. The holy priest was shouting something while tied up and flying."
They quickly urged him to reveal this secret: "What was it?"
The man paused, enjoying the way he was holding everyone's attention. When everyone was getting impatient, he finally said, "The priest was shouting that he would not heal the Evil Dragon's wife!"
The villagers gasped. This news was even more surprising than news of war.
"Is it true?"
"Are you lying?"
"Aye," the man said, "My wife's mother's sister's friend's son's from another village said so. Would he lie? Would I lie?"
The villagers thought about it; they knew everything about each other, from their parents' parents to the dinner their neighbor had. If the man had lied, he would have been quickly exposed.
And so on that day, a rumor resounded far and wide:
Behold, the Evil Dragon had finally come to possess a wife.
–
The dark elf and the holy priest, the source of this rumor, were now in the Queen's chambers, with the former standing by the door and the latter muttering a healing prayer with his eyes closed by the bed.
Breiroc watched as holy light enveloped the slumbering man. He looked peaceful, with his short, silver hair and world-destroying, beautiful face. Breiroc could understand why the Evil Dragon was so upset that his wife came to him injured and unconscious. The dark elf would've appreciated his beauty more if his survival did not hinge on this man's awakening.
"Pray faster!" Breiroc urged once again with a hiss.
It was not easy to convince the Evil Dragon to leave so they could heal the Queen. Breiroc had used all the negotiation skills he learned in the Academy before he managed to do as the finicky priest requested, and even then, the Evil Dragon would only be away for a short while. Cilestras would return any time now.
"I am doing my best," the holy priest, Serizain, hissed back without opening his eyes.
Serizain kept his hands clasped in a prayer, sweat oozing from his forehead. He, too, did not know why the man wasn't awake yet. The man's head injury had long been healed, and even the blood on the bed had been cleaned. So why, for the love of the Holy Saintess, was the prayer not working?
The Holy Saintess seemed to hear his question because not long after, Breiroc saw the man's eyes flutter.
The dark elf was almost jumping with joy. He was finally saved!
But then cold water was poured on him as he heard the man's successive questions:
"Where am I?"
"Who are you?"
"Who am I?"