Same place.
Merinelteratsin, also known as Merlin.
Breathing heavily, I surveyed the blazing forest below me, where I had created a local branch of fiery hell.
And I had put in a serious effort — I had exhaled every bit of flame I could produce without completely losing my strength and falling to the ground.
The forest was big, of course…
But I didn’t think the witcher had survived.
After all, there was so much fire that I couldn’t see anything but it and the charring trees.
It’s unlikely even a man in a fireproof suit would survive in such a place, because the fire greedily consumes all the oxygen, and if not from the fire, the witcher would surely suffocate.
They don’t live without air, as far as I know.
“Haaah…” I opened my mouth with my tongue hanging out, which was now very hot.
Such an amount of flame had even slightly affected my own mouth, and that’s saying something!
Shaking my head, I flapped my wings once more and began to turn away, heading towards the elven palace, called Shaerrawedd.
First, it was closer; second, over the last two years, I had become frankly accustomed to soft elven beds and pillows.
After that, returning to sleeping on the grass in dragon form was something I didn’t want to do at all, so soon a large shadow appeared over the elven dwelling, which also served as their last major palace on the Continent.
…Landing on a parade ground specially prepared for me (yes, the locals were already aware that their Elder was training a couple of dragons), I transformed into an elf in a golden radiance.
And immediately ran my hand over my sweaty forehead — a peculiarity of dragon metamorphism was that, besides wounds, all fatigue was also transferred to the new form.
It didn’t matter if you were tired in humanoid form or as a huge reptile, the fatigue would be the same either way.
Nonsense, but tons of weight also disappear and appear somewhere during transformation…
The law of conservation of energy is crying bitterly in the corner.
However…
After the appearance of the real Cirilla, who couldn’t care less about time and space, the peculiarities of dragon metamorphism aren’t surprising.
Entering the palace and heading towards the chambers assigned to me, I almost immediately came face to face with Francesca.
The elf pressed her lips together and looked at me with clear displeasure — after all, I had taken her father’s side on the issue of the conflict with humans, not hers.
“Merlin,” she nodded dryly, but didn’t overstep.
First, she had seen Nimue’s and my magical duels; second…
I’m a multi-ton armored machine of death, not just anyone.
“Enid,” I replied a little more friendly, not wanting to get into an argument right now.
I was too tired from trying to guarantee the witcher’s burning without exposing myself.
“…I haven’t seen you this tired in a long time,” my appearance was, of course, very noticeable.
“Did something happen?” the elf spoke with genuine concern, who, despite her views and our disagreements, was smart.
And she understood that something capable of exhausting a dragon could pose a huge threat to the elves.
“A witcher,” I grimaced, at that moment regretting that I didn’t have a staff.
It would be nice to lean on it…
“Humans altered by human sorcerers, who are faster and stronger than their kin.
Plus professional monster hunters…
Well, that’s what humans call them.
You don’t get along with them very well…”
“Are they that dangerous, even for dragons?” the elf tensed instantly, her gaze scanning me — looking for wounds, obviously.
“Not exactly, but…
They’re cunning and smart.
They could kill an unwary relative of mine…
Well, if he landed on the ground,” I snorted, not really imagining how you could kill a flying dragon without sorcerers.
At least, without various ballistae, from which we can simply fly away.
“But I just flew around and burned that forest he was trying to hide in to hell.”
“That somewhat…
complicates matters,” Francesca frowned, clearly referring to the ongoing confrontation between the elven youth and the humans.
So far, it’s just light guerrilla warfare against various individual travelers, but it’s only the beginning.
However, stopping it would only be possible by force, and I don’t want to become an object of universal hatred.
Even under a disguise — because the hatred would eventually transfer to all dragons and my plans would go to the dogs.
“We need to reconsider several details…”
“You should reconsider this whole useless war before it’s too late,” I snorted undiplomatically, but right now I wasn’t in the mood for negotiations.
“Maybe it seems useless from your point of view…
But I’d like to see you, Merlin, if humans started climbing into your mountains!” she threw out bitterly, quickly passing me and disappearing around a corner.
And she’s right.
If I ruled over some territory and humans started brazenly intruding there, I would, of course, try diplomacy first, but…
If they refused, I would try to drive them out.
After all, that’s what any power would do; it’s its damn sovereignty!
Everything in life is complicated, complicated.
Everything was much simpler when I just lived the life of a free dragon, hunted, rested, flew…
But you can’t live like that forever either; it’s degradation that won’t allow me to realize my plans for creating Camelot.
So, hands and feet and…
Let’s go rest.
The war will only intensify, and I’ll need all my strength…
* * *
Several weeks later.
Everything flared up very quickly.
It was enough for humans to offer resistance to the elves just once, who so far weren’t being too harsh, just defending their territory.
But don’t think the elves are entirely in the right here.
In many ways, but…
Their reaction to the resistance of the new human settlers was also not quite adequate.
The hot-headed youth began literally slaughtering villages, so far only targeting the adult men who offered resistance when the elves drove them out, but…
Judging by the ongoing trends, soon they would start slaughtering everyone indiscriminately.
But that works in my favor.
The more mutual grievances the human and elven states have after the war, the less attention they’ll pay to dragons.
The main thing is that the enmity shouldn’t be chaotic, like in the canonical history of the Witcher.
There need to be warring states with something to lose, not guerrilla bands with nothing.
Only then, if necessary, will I be able to put pressure on the opposing sides.
Well…
To ease my conscience, I’ll also suggest to the elves that they still not kill women and children, but drive them away to the humans.
Justifying it by saying that the humans will have to feed them too, which will clearly weaken the humans — which isn’t entirely true, but might work.
That way, the sheep are happy, the wolves are full, and my inconveniently awakened conscience won’t nag at me…
However, right now I need to save not so much people as various magical creatures, which the elves won’t touch because they coexist with them, but the embittered human forces of retribution certainly will.
So I took on another useful task: saving all sorts of different creatures.
Taking advantage of the fact that Nimue had finally gone hunting, I started with the pribozhki.
Relatives, and possibly ancestors, of the legendary Ivasik and Sara.
One of their largest settlements is located right in the place of the future confrontation between elves and humans.
The location is strategically important, lying between the elven forests and a nearby human city and numerous villages springing up like mushrooms after rain.
…I had already gone out to meet them, but not in the guise of an elf — rather, a wise old man of indeterminate race with a long beard.
Yes, I had finally managed to acquire yet another form.
This was more than easy to do, because besides Legolas from the famous films, I also clearly remembered Gandalf, whose appearance I mostly copied.
Except I made the beard a bit shorter, and the facial features were somewhat different, so at most I could be taken for a distant relative of his, not a twin brother.
The pribozhki themselves lived on the site of the western part of the forest that had been cut down by humans, in the numerous remaining stumps and half-rotten tree trunks that for some reason hadn’t been taken away back in the day.
My arrival at this modest pribozhok settlement caused quite a stir.
The gray-skinned creatures, the size of children, clad only in loincloths, started running back and forth, frankly hiding from me…
but still peeking out curiously with their huge eyes.
Frankly speaking, suspicious and impressionable medieval people really could mistake them for monsters.
They did look rather unusual and even created a bit of an uncanny valley effect, yes.
I didn’t care about that — a dragon would be far scarier than pribozhki — but ordinary people…
Yeah.
They needed saving, otherwise, like in canon, they’d become an endangered species.
And it was beneficial for me to befriend various sentient creatures.
After all, the British Merlin was the master of all living things!
“I have come to you in peace, pribozhki.” I began to speak in Elder Speech with a deep, aged voice, which by default should have instilled awe in children — which the pribozhki essentially were.
“I am the wizard Merlin, and I mean you no harm.”
For a while, the creatures whispered among themselves in their own language, but eventually one of them cautiously approached me, wearing a red scarf and clearly acting as a sort of, heh-heh, diplomatic representative.
Stepping carefully and studying me closely, he soon fixed his huge eyes on my face.
And not human…
You smell of fire…
Who are you?” he asked curiously in a childlike voice, not daring to touch my clothes.
Yeah, I should have seen the elves’ faces when I ordered such clothes from them.
“I’ve already introduced myself.
I am the wizard Merlin,” I repeated, gripping what was for now a simple makeshift magic staff — a tool that would allow me to cast magic better.
It’s like a slingshot — you can throw a stone with your bare hand, but a slingshot makes it much easier and more powerful.
“Wizard?
Merlin?
We don’t know any such…” he replied warily, but in his eyes I saw such a naive child that even a fool could deceive him.
“It’s not good to lie, little pribozhok,” I chided him playfully with my finger, stroking my beard with dignity.
“I wasn’t lying to you, wizard Merlin!” my interlocutor stomped his foot, looking at me indignantly.
“Is that so?
I introduced myself, we talked…
So we know each other, don’t we?” I asked, grinning into my beard.
Of course, the beard wasn’t the most comfortable thing to wear, but it instantly made people and magical creatures perceive the speaker as wise.
“Oh…” the pribozhok froze, pondering my words.
“So that’s it…
So I lied to you?”
“Exactly.
And that’s why you must listen to me carefully.
Then I’ll forgive your deception.
Agreed?” I asked, leaning down slightly.
“Agreed!” the utterly naive creature instantly cheered up, nodding rapidly.
“Then listen.
Soon, in these lands, the elves will go to war with the humans.
They will fight to the death,” I began in a profound and loud tone, so that all the pribozhki watching us could hear.
“And even though you’ve always lived in peace, you could suffer too!
Die!” At this, the listeners gasped in unison, starting to exchange glances and whisper actively.
“That’s why you need to leave these places!”
“But…
where…” the pribozhok instantly became flustered, not even thinking that I might be deceiving him.
“Where will we go, wizard Merlin?
We’ve always lived here…”
“East, to the Blue Mountains.
There live dwarves and gnomes, who are as short as you.
They will accept you as neighbors, since they live in deep caves, and you will live in the numerous stumps and fallen tree trunks near the mountains,” I intoned with an inspired air, still leaning on my staff.
“I…
I must consult with the others!” the pribozhok quickly found an answer, and was about to run off to the rest when I called out to him:
“And what’s your name?”
“Zashmik!” he replied, and ran off again to his kin, who were hiding behind bushes and tree trunks, thinking I couldn’t see them.
Chuckling silently, I sat down on one of the sturdy stumps and began to wait for the results of their chatter.
They were far enough away, and there were plenty of chirping birds around, so I only caught fragments and the emotional coloring of their speech.
One way or another, after a few minutes, several pribozhki came to me — about a dozen.
“We agree, wizard Merlin!” the same Zashmik blurted out.
“But we don’t know those places…
Lead us there, good wizard!
We’ll be forever grateful!”
“Ho-ho.
I’ll help, of course.
But you won’t forget me either — you’ll tell others from time to time that the good wizard Merlin is ready to help any creature living in forests, swamps, or lakes,” I began to promote myself, planning to thoroughly establish contacts.
And solving the problems of the local inhabitants would help me with that.
“Now gather your belongings — we need to set out as soon as possible…”