You know that person that’s annoyingly straight-laced? The one that always does the right thing and likes to lecture everyone else for not following their lead? Yeah, me too. Her name is Nadima Darzi and if she gets anymore involved with her high morals, she’ll have to change her relationship status. I know you’re reading this, Deema!
So. First of all, I’d like to thank the fire department for their swift response today. Second, I would like to point out that I didn’t actually hurt anyone… seriously. I mean, what’s a bit of a sunburn on the nether regions? Considering the nature of the pearl necklace that guy stole, he ought to be thanking me. Third, let this be a warning to the beer swilling fraternity hazers and sticky-fingered set. Do not steal from me.
This is not a joke. I’m not being coy and I’m not threatening anyone. I’m warning. Fire is just a part of me. Snakes have venom sacks, I have an inner furnace and knee jerk reactions to a few things. Collecting is a part of what I am and so is toasting low down, rotten thieves. I hope you all understand, it’s nothing personal. Okay, it is personal, but limited to the sort of people that break the lock on a door, sneak in, and steal something that doesn’t belong to them. And maybe that wouldn’t even have set me off, except it wasn’t just any necklace he took. That necklace? Put it on the ‘things you should never touch’ list.
You know how all these supernaturals are starting to pop out here and there? All those things you thought were just stories that really have been bumping around in the night? Well, it’s not limited to werewolves or dragons. There are plenty of stories about that necklace and none of them have happy endings. So, you could say I didn’t assault the thief so much as violently drag him back from the claws of certain death and or insanity. In fact, while we’re on the topic, I collect a lot of stuff like that and I put it safely away where no-one is going to accidentally stumble on it as a service to the multitudes of humanity. You know. Just in case you were thinking I was the bad guy here.
Look, Deema can back me up on this, I know things like the necklace look harmless. But they sure aren’t. Let me tell you a story to make my point. So, once upon a time, mortals went around poking their heads where they shouldn’t, getting them cut off or set on fire or any number of really unpleasant things. Sometimes they deserved it, sometimes they didn’t, but that isn’t the point. One of these not so bright people was a high priest in ancient Persia – ask Deema about him; that’s her field – and he was a great guy. Just really awesome. He liked to strangle sacrifices with this piece of holy, silk cord that he had infused with the powers of the gods. And, just to prove what a badass he was, he wore it around his neck like a necklace when he wasn’t using it to kill virgins and infants.
Blah, blah, stupid, blah, he strangled the wrong virgin in the wrong country, some kid of a mad witch or something, and the witch put a curse on him. Next time he went to sleep, boom, bang, his strangling cord sacrificed him.
So, the other priests, cause, you know, sense, put the cord in the grave with him and sealed his coffin with all their holy prayers and magic hoodoo. But, about a half millennia later, along comes some idiot with a shovel, digs up the priest and his cord which, of course, is still a beautiful strand of red silk.
So the genius strung this silk cord with fifty of the most beautiful pearls he could find and gave it to his wife back home in Britain. Of course, it doesn’t take much to figure out how well that went. But, and here’s the thing about evil artifacts like this, nobody pitched the damn thing in the fire when they found her strangled by her own pearls. Not that it would have worked, but they could have tried, right? Nope, Mr. Smarty-Pants Shovel Man gave it to his second wife instead – really, kind of makes you wonder if he just should have stayed single – and, poof, same thing. Then some idiot thief stole the necklace.
The thing about evil artifacts like this is they get in your head and dig in tight. You don’t get to just decide you aren’t interested anymore. If that was the case, I wouldn’t need to collect them. The royal houses would all have gathered these things up and given them their own room in the Tower of London. But that is not how it works. Honestly, the man with the shovel could have loved both his wives, but the necklace had its own plan. So every person who picked the damn thing up fell in a thrall to it and either died by it or gave it to someone they loved who ended up strangled. On and on it goes until it came to the priest who threw it in holy water and called me to come collect it. He knew what it was and we go way back, like, to his childhood, so he knew I was the best keeper.
There you have it, the reason I was pitching fireballs down Main Street. While I realize it wasn’t exactly the most friendly of sights, I do hope you all know I was just trying to get the killer necklace back in custody where it belongs, so I can seal it up in a way that will mean it can pose no threat to anyone ever again. And, no, don’t ask where that collection is kept.
The one thing mortals – and more than a few immortals – never seem to understand is that, really, if something is cursed/haunted/tragically ugly, it’s just sometimes better to forget about it. Like that demon infested wine box I took on a couple years back, some things will try to eat your soul. They aren’t toys and they aren’t just good stories. They are dangerous. Don’t touch them. I’m safe because I’m a dragon. When you’ve got inch thick scales made of, literally, the hardest physical material on the planet, little things like curses tend to bounce off. I’ve been using that to collect and contain stuff like this for centuries. And, FYI, I do buy or trade for haunted and cursed. I’ll help you burn tragically ugly, if you ask nicely.
So, in related news, The Dragon’s Hoard is having a fire sale this week. Stop by, have a chat, see if you like the slightly charred, eighteenth century Buddha statue or the velvet Victorian chaise lounge and armchair. The armchair only got a little singed, although I’m afraid the second armchair has been lost. All smoke or fire damaged items 75% off!
Owner/Proprietor of The Dragon’s Hoard
Resident Dragon and Professional Flamethrower