Constantine: A History Part 2

The 20th of April, human year 1746

Dreagan

I have tried. I truly have. Some might look back and say that I didn’t give it enough, but I will know the truth.

The simple fact is, the mortals have lost their bloody minds.

I knew it was a good idea to have a spy in the English parliament long before Culloden, and Keltan has done a fine job relaying information while keeping his true identity a secret. But learning that the English plan to pass The Dress Act in the next few months that would make wearing a tartan or kilt illegal leaves me flummoxed. And fuming.

Some of the Kings wish to use our magic to stop such idiocy, but we won’t. Just as we didn’t intervene or participate in Culloden or the many other battles before that—or the ones yet to come. We have chosen to live among—but apart from—the humans.

And for very good reason.

It is impossible to look at the mortals without disdain for their stupidity or respect for their accomplishments. Thankfully, the spell I cast prevents such deep emotions within the Kings in regards to the humans. Otherwise, I’m not sure even I could keep from eradicating them.

The years are a blur. They pass as quickly as sand through my fingers.

Worse yet, is that my brethren are terribly, enormously lonely. It’s an ache experienced by all. Each attempts to hide it, but it’s there in their gaze, in their words, and in the very things they do not say.

And, if I’m being honest, I’m lonely, too.

I will never admit it to anyone. It’s difficult enough to divulge it in this journal. It’s a secret I keep concealed, because if I let it show, if I concede that I feel such emotions, then it’s a weakness that can—and will—be used against me by our enemies.

The Fae Wars might be over, and we may be on friendly terms with the Light, but I know the Dark Fae will never give up in their quest to take over this realm. It’s a prime hunting ground for them. They will always be adversaries. And they’re patient enough to wait to strike at the best moment.

Then there’s Ulrik.

He wants to challenge me. Perhaps, he’ll win. Perhaps he won’t.

I try to prepare for all these things. I know they’re coming. It’s a feeling deep within me, like a warning bell. Just as I know that our power, our magic, will draw other enemies to us. Will we be ready?

We have to be. We’ve lost too much already. I will not allow anyone to take what we’ve fought so hard to maintain after everything we’ve given up.

I owe it to the other Kings to ensure that. And I will. Even if it means I forfeit my life. Because, in the end, I am merely one dragon. Any of the other Kings could take my place—even Ulrik. But they are the ones who are important. The dragons are gone from this realm, but the Dragon Kings must remain at all costs.

Constantine, King of Golds

King of Dragon Kings