You know, second chances are nice and all, and at the very least I was a dragon. Yeah, laugh it up because dragons were freaking classist and racist snobs. And if you happen to deviate even more than standard? It was hard to tell with the vast array of appearances, with the changeable nature of essences and the fact that there were many with mixed essences. But while having some first world, or fey, ties was something that was not only accepted but common enough to be a recognized subspecies, those that belonged to other realms that were 'lesser' in many ways according to the local culture?
Only way it could be worse is if I was an Undragon or part giant somehow. The last one because giants were kill on sight and the first because it was eldritch horror and madness. Thankfully, I just seemed to have some links to Hell. Which was actually worth a good deal of personal mental crisis, even if I will admit that the knowledge of how to forge contracts would likely prove to be useful. Something to consider, even as others my age mocked me. Less about the fact I was 'impure' and more because Linnorm essence translated into primitive brute apparently.
Basically, they expected me to be stupid, to be ignorant and foolish so they could mock me and bully me. It was frustrating, but it sort of just firmed my decision. In a very real sense, I was not yet considered to be fully mature, as I was not yet capable of flight. Still largely able to look after myself, as my guardian... well, they were hoping to wash their claws of me for a few reasons. But I could feel the magic inside of me, the right channels... and went raiding before I even got my first lair.
Sure, it was expected I would eventually return, but I knew I was not welcome and would not burden them with my continued presence. No, better to head into the mortal world, to carve out a lair and make some deals there. Make a life for myself away from the politics and clashes of my kin. Maybe bully one of the static cousins eventually. I had some options come to think of it. Some better than others, but still, as I glided into a landing, my wings not yet able to support true flight... I had a future.
It was a heady thing.
On the one hand, I had ended up in a dark and gloomy forest, but at least it was a forest. No scent or feel of other dragons, which was a good thing, even if I needed to be aware of other predators. I was a small thing yet, and not so able to hold my ground against almost anything that would dare to challenge me. At the same time, I was not going to be so foolish as to hunt down the greater beasts that could prove to be a great threat to myself.
Which of course, is when I ran into some albino elves. Ones that wore iron collars about their necks, and shackles around their wrists, black blood pulsing in their veins... and with a few humans in cages. All of them men, all of them wearing rags and looking to not be the best specimens. Something about them just screamed either down on their luck peasants... or bandits. Which is when some of the elves, on the edges, spoke, whispering to each other. "Rwy'n meddwl bod rhywbeth yn gwylio."
"Ie, dyna bwynt hyn i gyd." Said neighbor sounded a touch... anxious as they looked at one of the caged humans, and then giggled in a distinctly feminine manner. "Gwaed ac eneidiau felly bydd y tywyllwch yn anfon cymorth atom, a pha well i'w fwydo na'r rhain?" There was something cruel in how she said it, as the human winced as she reached out, his own face pale and bloodless.
Now, this could be something I could take advantage of, even as my stealth skills were... poor. Still, a little touch of dread, some approaching with confidence and moving towards the elves, my voice trying to purr and rumble. "Nid wyf yn siŵr ai'r tywyllwch yr ydych yn sôn amdano a'm hanfonodd, ond efallai y gallwn siarad."
Sure, they were spooked at first, as a small green dragon approached, but one rich in infernal power... but that seemed to be good enough for them. All in all, their own backstory was suitably tragic, of elves taken and bound with iron, to wither and die as slaves far from their woodland homes. Until they heard the dark, until they accepted its bargain and drank of its power. And now? Now they were taking their revenge on the realms of men. The men that burned and hewed their forests, that enslaved them and turned them into a dying people, a realm of weeping ghosts waiting to die.
For striking back, for refusing to meekly wait for the end? They have been branded as outcasts, as impure and unworthy, barred from the great forests. Now, if they are deemed to be ghosts, then they will be vengeful spectres, wraiths of reflected cruelty and vengeance on the race of man! Which is why, as I lay in ones lap, as hands stroke me, as they place still warm meat in my jaws, why they had been hoping to call from the dark a protector, a warrior spirit. And a dragon, whose blood sang of the dark fires that would devour the souls of men beyond life itself? How could that be anything other than an omen, a sign from the darkness itself!
Which is to say, that we agreed to a mutual pact, of working together and assisting each other with the goals of the other. All in all, we both desired blood and death (for slightly different reasons), and they were content to let the bulk of the gold and silver fall into my claws and hoard. But, the first thing that would need to be done? Securing the deeper and darker portions of this small forest, before forcing out all others. Something I looked forward too, as 'dark elves' crooned over me.