Alfi flies down from the tree and lands on the path next to me. I don't need to hide anymore, so I come out of the trees and join him on the road. Alfi's magnificent scaly armor glitters in the moonlight. I kind of like him when he's not giving me anxiety attacks. I think he's a little thinner than the last time we met, but it's hard to tell because it was quite a while ago.
“Tell me how you are doing,” I continue. “We haven't seen each other in a long time.”
“I am pretty good, all things considered. There is something I wanted to ask of you, but first, tell me about the important matters you mentioned.”
That is something I'm more than happy to talk about. I tell him about my plan and what is expected of him: to set fire to army camps, to burn a village or two. Or twenty. Stuff like that. The idea is to create an effect of fear and shock. I end with a brief reminder of all the dishes Sakaro planned to prepare from Alfi's body for his victory feast, a cruel fate from which he was saved thanks to me, of course.
I finish and wait to hear that he agrees so I can return home and go to sleep in my big, soft bed next to my wife, Nilia.
“Well?” I nudge him after a few moments pass, and I don't seem to be getting any closer to my bed or Nilia.
He looks somewhat pensive. There was always something irritating about this Alfi. Why is it so hard for him to say: “Yes, that sounds like a great plan, and I'd be happy to help. Have a nice ride home?” What's so complicated about that?
“Say, Sorin,” he asks after what feels like five hours. “What is the point of that? What do you need it for? You are a good king; the people love you; is it worth risking all this? I'll tell you something else. I'm not sure it's such a bargain to be the emperor. I have a feeling you will not enjoy it at all.”
That is precisely what was missing in my life, a thinking dragon.
“Forgive me for asking, but why does your highness think I will not enjoy it?” I ask.
He ignores the sarcasm. “First of all, it's a lot of responsibility and stress. Much more work than you have as the king of Aragonia,” he says. There may be something to this argument, but it misses the point. “Besides,” he continues, “you'll never have peace. You will live in constant fear of someone else trying to oust you.” Okay, that's not untrue, but it's still not a major consideration in the overall picture.
“And what about the honor of being emperor?” I snap at him. “And what about the revenge for my father? What about the fact that Sakaro planned to turn you into a soup and a variety of other dishes for the victory celebrations, including desserts?”
“Look,” he says. “Personally, I am not going to live my life according to what Sakaro planned to do to me eight years ago. Revenge is your business, but I am willing to help you.”
Thank you very much, that's all I wanted to hear. It's a pity we couldn't have gotten there without him scaring the hell out of me or sharing his uninteresting, irrelevant, and unintelligent thoughts.
“I just want you to know that I have a problem with some of the things you are asking me to do.”
“Like what, for example?”
“Like burning villages. The people who live there have nothing to do with the quarrel between you and Sakaro. Think of the women and children in those villages. And the men, too, haven't done anything wrong. I don't want to hurt them.”
This conversation is getting weirder and weirder by the minute. “Are you serious? Where did you get that from? Since when do you care about humans? You used to enjoy burning them.”
“Look, I had a lot of time to think in the last few years, that's pretty much all I had to do. I thought about the meaning of life and why we're here, and what we should do while we're here. Killing people who haven't done anything wrong to anyone is not one of the things I think we need to do.”
I don't even know how to begin to respond to this incoherent sequence of words. Nor am I required to because it turns out that he has more to say on the subject.
“I don't understand why you want to kill these people. They didn't do anything to you,” he adds.
“Who said I want to kill them? Where did you get that stupid idea from?”
“From you,” he replies. “You asked me to kill them.”
“That doesn't mean I want to kill them, Alfi. It's not the same thing. I'm not a monster, I'm just not that dramatic about them dying in case it's necessary for my plans, that's all.”
