Ren of Atikala
Page 19
THE END OF ATIKALA KILLED our hope, but the destruction of our enemies at Stonehaven took with it something else.
Our hate.
There is a saying amongst my people that reflects this. Within every heart lives two dragons, a dragon of Hope and a dragon of Hate, both mighty and powerful in equal measure. They war constantly, always struggling for dominance to be the rightful ruler of your heart.
You feed them with your actions.
All that drives us in life is fuelled by either hope or hate. Hate is the dark mirror of hope, empowering our hearts with the same fire and energy but striving for different ends. Hate drives us to bring those above us to ruin, while hope exalts us to raise ourselves up beyond where we are. We want to better ourselves, or drag down someone else so we are on top.
The destruction of the gnomes had taken with it the dragon of our hate, but hope could not flare up to take its place; hope was already dead within us. We were soulless, cast adrift and ready to settle down to wait for death. I remember these times as being some of the hardest of them all, not because of pain, or suffering, or loss…but because I no longer felt anything at all.
Both dragons lay dead, and my heart was a barren wasteland cloaked in winter. While this wounded me greatly, it was better than the alternative. I said many things, did many things, that I regret in this time of my life, but I always feel the slightest bit of pride that at that moment, right when I had nothing, I didn’t feed Hate and nurse it back to health.
Most manage to find an equilibrium in their hearts between Hate and Hope, controlling the former while encouraging the latter, and for most, this is a happy and content existence. Some find that Hope’s strength overpowers Hate easily, and that they are able to do noble things effortlessly and naturally simply by following their intrinsic sense of righteousness.
However, some embrace that hateful dragon within them, that boiling black pit of rage that simmers and bubbles out of sight, ushering them into darkness and wickedness too numerous to count. They embrace this powerful ally and use it to great effect.
Sometimes my surface friends wonder why anyone would do this, would willingly plunge themselves into shadow and wrath. Even humans, that most flexible and different of species, almost universally espouse the idea that good is preferable to evil, and that it is better to be noble than to be malicious, even when they do not believe it. Why would anyone listen to that whisper from Hate, the dark voice urging them to abandon Hope and to take the selfish path, the destructive path, the path of darkness?
Kobolds know. Kobolds know because the voice of Hate, the black dragon within, is seductive. It promises that all things are relative, and that by listening, one can reach the summit of their dreams easier and faster. Hate promises much—power, wealth, revenge for slights real and imagined. When the choice is made between humble Hope and eager Hate, it is Hate’s words that have the most strength, and its promises are greater.
But greater too, is Hate’s hunger, and you can only feed a dragon for so long before it grows too large for the meals you bring. Where Hope would grow fat and content, sleeping most of its days and dreaming of pleasant things, Hate grows ever more ravenous.
When the food grows too meagre for its bulk, Hate turns its greedy eyes upon you.
— Ren of Atikala