Epilogue
In a conference room elsewhere in the city, another meeting was taking place simultaneously. Aisling sat in her chair, overwhelmed by her region's sudden, shocking developments. A century of effort had culminated in her finally silencing her competitors, forcing the few who refused to bend their knees to vacate the continent with their tails between their legs. And now, out of the blue, a godforsaken lizard had fallen into her lap, seemingly gliding under her radar for nearly 20 years, and no one could tell her how or why. The boy seemed adequately pliable when she had spoken to him, which would be bearable if he was an ordinary citizen asking for residence, but as a dragon, it meant that other people could get in his ears, too. Other people she didn't necessarily have sufficiently cowed, who might end up suggesting it was time for her retirement to this newfound power.
She had tried to fill that void with her longest-tenured advisor, Antonin. Having him teach the boy meant that she had control over his development and the information he was introduced to. Encouraging Antonin to drag his feet gave her time to handle the other fires that had sprung up and evaluate this walking catastrophe further, keeping him in relative ignorance.
"So, you asked for another week before you told me anything," the Banshee said, her eyes still trying to make sense of the information presented on the main display in the room. "I assume you have more for me, given all this. What's your conclusion, old man? Is he a threat?"
Antonin ran his hand through his thinning hair. He owed Aisling a great deal professionally, and some personally, but he wasn't fond of how she had treated the boy. In his mind, the scared, shadowy, manipulative, controlling actions were a contributing factor in dragons being put down in the past. It wasn't the boy's fault he had a nuclear reactor running at 120% inside of him, and treating him like he was out of control would only alienate him and push him away. Pushing all of his kind into positions where they felt they couldn't trust anyone made them not trust anyone, and then many would point at the cynical actions and use them to justify atrocities.
"At present, not to you or I, or the realm as a whole," the old elf responded diplomatically.
"At present?" Aisling questioned, tapping her pen against the desk.
"He is a dragon, Ash. He's even-tempered, and too forgiving and hesitant to take power for himself. But he, nonetheless, is a dragon. He has the capabilities for immense destruction, and we would have little recourse. On a whim during our most recent active training, he conjured a hurricane. In a span of ten seconds, properly motivated, he could flatten our city and crush all of our wardings with impunity."
Antonin stood up and walked slowly to the display, pointing at locations on a graph as he said, "Wind speed averaged 55 meters per second, including torrential rain, hail, and lightning strikes. Now, a team of wizards could accomplish something like that themselves, if they wanted to waste all of that energy for some reason. He and the younger O'Brien did this in my grotto with no planning because it pleased them.
"I cannot stress this enough -- this was nowhere near their limits. This was an endeavor of speculative, indulgent self-gratification. This was them working together to make something meaningful for themselves alone. And if you'll look at this chart, you can see that the ambient energy level radiating from him increased after they embraced, post-completion of my challenge. He did that," Antonin emphasized, jabbing a grey finger at a still image of the raging hurricane, "and became more capable."
"What are you saying, my friend?" Emmanuel Mengue interrupted Antonin's explanation. "This boy recharged himself by summoning the storm?"
"Precisely. The dragon doesn't work how we thought it did. He hasn't built a hoard or begun collecting art and statues like the others. His Fae Book account is nearly entirely inactive; the offers we tagged were declined all in one batch, so he hasn't been collecting ownership shares of companies through the internet, either. He simply isn't acquiring wealth or valuables and yet continues growing in power every day."
Antonin tapped a remote in his hand, and the display changed.
"And, it doesn't apply to only him. The younger O'Brien was basically non-existent on our charts during the first session with her. She had no power and was incredibly unskilled with anything beyond hobbyist empathy. She was employed by one of our regional offices in the north as a convenience for her Mother, though she never would have qualified independently. Now, she is a conjurer of all sorts, capable of matching James. She still lacks the absolute capacity that he has, but the bursts she is capable of now would place her in the top ten percent of D tier.
