Dragon Chess (pt. 4)

[moonshadows]

Filia, for being a know-it-all, is appallingly ignorant on the local geography. She has only the barest idea of where she’s going, which means that she must have flown everywhere and not lowered herself to actually traveling in that human form she wears so awkwardly. Her holier-than-us attitude clashes with Lina’s take-charge bent, leaving the chimera and Amelia grinding their teeth discreetly, and Gourry cheerfully oblivious. I’m actually more familiar with this area than the dragon is, and Lina reluctantly accepts my suggestions. I’m cooperating a smidge too much for her comfort, but uninterrupted travel raises only her level of paranoia – following my suggestions raises the naïve gold’s hackles, more because she can’t stand to see me be right than anything else. Her muttered predictions of my leading everyone into a mazoku trap are ignored, and she seems to take the smooth journey as a personal insult. I’d take the time to play with her more, but My Lord Beastmaster has put priority on getting our chess pieces to the other side of the board as quickly as possible. Thus, I behave myself. To an extent, it is amusing to be as polite and inoffensive as possible. It convinces Filia that I’m up to no good, and her unwarranted reactions make her look bad – and she knows it.

When we come to a certain fork in the road, there’s a debate as to which path to take. Were we not in a hurry, I’d cheerfully send them to the little town just down the hill.

“Well,” Lina asks, hands on her hips. “Which way?”

I point my staff down the left-hand fork.

“No!” Filia interrupts, as Gourry starts down that path. “We simply MUST take the path to the right!”

The things I do for my Lord… “Oh, really?” I manage in a mild tone. “I think we should take the one to the left.” It goes against my grain to leave such an opportunity untaken, but this is what My Lord Beastmaster desires.

“Oh, no!”

“’Oh, no’?” Why must she fight me at every turn?

“No mazoku is going to trick me THAT easily!”

If she only knew… “You’re just going to dismiss me out of hand?” I’ve been good, damn her. I haven’t once misled them or entertained myself by toying with them, but the more trustworthy I present myself as, the less she trusts me. If she weren’t the Fire Dragon King’s Bishop…

Lina breaks in, asking Filia if her way is the shorter way. The stiff-necked dragon brazenly declares her ignorance, pulling out her status as a priestess of the Fire Dragon King and waving it around as an excuse to not “lower herself to agreeing with some mazoku who serves some decrepit old dark lord.”

That’s it. I’ll tolerate her attitude only so far – after all, I am the Trickster Priest and a few days of good behavior isn’t going to erase a thousands years of well-earned reputation. But I will not stand by and let her insult My Lord Beastmaster. Never mind that my assumed name succeeded in misleading her, and she thinks I serve Lord Cold Mountain. I pluck the arrogant twit’s strings expertly, sending her off on a posturing ego-trip, then keep my silence when she leads everyone straight into the town I was going to steer them around.

I’m going to enjoy this.

I keep discreetly out of the way for a while, letting the golden dragon and our Queen butt heads. Only after Filia has been defeated do I step in to fine-tune the situation. To my surprise, the silly thing takes her prejudices to a whole new level and blames me for Lina’s appetite. Anyone with the barest knowledge of how magic effects human metabolism would understand Lina’s eating habits. Yet, somehow, the dragon works herself up enough to start clumsily changing to her native form – right there in the restaurant. As much as I’d love to let her get lynched, we still need her. I take more pleasure out of needling her than I should, but it gets her out of sight and keeps her in human form. In the confusion, I slip back into the Astral Plane. The chimera points out that my little friends now have no way to pay their bill, but brilliant little Lina comes up with a pretty speech about finding poor, abused Filia, and they run out on the bill with only a single twinge of regret – and that was from Amelia.

Despite the pretty speech, my little friends are more concerned with not being found than they are with finding Filia, and dusk descends wetly on the town before the inevitable mob corners the arrogant little twit. Hearing the town’s history forces some humility down her throat, but it’s followed by the foreign Queen’s two bumbling Pawns making their inelegant appearance. Seeing the Dragonkin’s Bishop get thrown in jail is an added bonus, but her blind prejudice has worn on my nerves enough that I don’t enjoy it properly. I’m sure Lina and her friends will free the dragon before the trial gets to the ‘execution’ part – either that, or the dragon will free herself. Either way, learning that her kind aren’t universally beloved will be good for her. We do have to work together.

Ah, random destruction. Lina has arrived. Unfortunately, what was shaping up into a nice little fight becomes an awkward situation as the mob threatens our chess pieces. They won’t attack normal humans, of course. Fortunately, the easiest solution is also the most enjoyable. It’s simplicity itself to goad Filia into a draconic rampage. The mob scatters, the two Pawns get knocked into next week, and my little friends make their escape in the chaos that ensues. Once Filia calms down, she joins the others outside of what’s left of the town. And, just because I can, I blithely join them to stir her back up. For some reason, the reminder that it was her decision to take the road that led here makes her more angry at me. If she can’t deal with the results of her own mistakes, the sins of her race are sure to have her frothing at the mouth. However did a priestess manage to stay so ignorant?