What's a Dragon? - Prologue

Disaster

James, 1226

"Traitor!" My new nickname. They shout it even as I come to remove their latest rogue experiment, to destroy the latest beast that has killed many and injured dozens. "Betrayal!" comes the cry in the streets. I hear it while hidden, and all the more when in the open. They already had not liked me, the last Jew in Israel. But this is where I was raised, where I awakened. My duty is to this place so long as it still holds people. Even should they march on my house, I will continue in my task until its completion.

Frederick, 1226

The years since the Plague were chaotic, to be sure, but the report of the First Dragon's death hit the hardest. Surely nobody could have foreseen events such as these, all wrought by a single instance of a poorly made monster. And my own actions, while advised against, surely must have been justified. There is no spell to remove such a plague. Even the Paladin fell!

I saved millions from those horrors. But the people were neither grateful nor pleased. It is as if another Plague began in its stead, and this one against ourselves. I am thankful that retreating to my own home keeps me safe, but what of the others? I cannot bear standing idly by while this slaughter continues.

Dayan, 1233

I had always known there were other tribes: those savages to the south continued to push us ever further into the tundra we called home. But until I awakened, the concept of the mighty dragon had never been given voice in these snowy climes. What reptile could even survive here, let alone be feared? No, it is the silent killer on wings of night, the relentless pursuit of the snarling hounds. It was these that informed my dragon form, the shape named for the mighty behemoths of James's home country which I so little resemble.

So to my people, I have ever been the first and only Dragon. An isolating curse, so I felt, until Europe's Plague and the backlash against Frederick's uncaring yet merciful genocide. "Those ancient lizards reaped their justice," so the people say, yet I am spared only for my vastly different appearance. If I should speak, I risk persecution by association. How can I stay their rash hands?

Miriam, 1240

I cannot stay. No longer. I have tried to reason with my tribes, but they have declared myself and all other Dragons to be violent beasts. Just two decades ago, they were pleading for us to act, terrified while we sought out the mightiest Soul casters to cure the Plague. But it was all for naught, and against James's counsel, he acted. And James, whose wisdom has now proved true, was only among the first to suffer the consequences. Nay, I cannot stay; I alight to England, to rebuild the hope that has been lost. Frederick has said his nation remains safe. Let me put that to the test.

Akiko, 1241

I just don't get it. We set up research sites all over the world, and when one we didn't set up and weren't monitoring messes up, we get the blame? I'm glad the monsters I've rescued over the years aren't running me out of town, but I still get a cold shoulder from the younger ones. And the humans… Okay, I think I sort of get their fear. It was our labs that produced the techniques for creating monsters, even from humans. But that was never a true danger to any but the most foolish. Not until the Plague. And now the monsters think they're simply lucky they live near me and not Frederick.

Frederick, 1251

Between my upbringing and the present politics of my nation, I have learned that a lack of leadership cannot long be tolerated by any group, much less an important one. James was the First and, in effect, our leader, counseling with wisdom until his untimely death one quarter century ago. We still use his writings as guidance to this day. But while no one is willing to take charge, I humbly submit myself to at least take responsibility for the consequences of my previous actions. I am still the youngest and could not presume to take his mantle, but I must submit suggestions for consideration by all.

As we still lack the cause for the Plague, I recommend a severe restriction on monster research. It must not occur again. Anyone pursuing such research must be heavily monitored and kept close to normal practices: we have already accomplished every major historical goal anyway.

Second, and for our own safety, I suggest acting openly only while in dragon form. If the public forgets our faces, we will have no more lynchings like that of James. I know this may interfere with my first recommendation, and I do not propose this with lack of consideration. I regret that this would be the end of the announcements of which we are so fond. But we are few in number and must ensure our strength and wisdom continue to take effect, for the benefit of humankind.