A Chronometric Defect

So, I can learn magic. That should be quite obvious, no? After all, my job is 'Dragon Acolyte.' The question I had was how to learn spells. Master Pathfinder wasn't useful in this respect, and I don't have any new skills, bonuses, or anything else. So— it was time to try random stuff.

I imagine a slice of nice clean white bread appearing from thin air. Another slice of bread lands atop a small pile of dragon-sized bread slices already on the floor.

*doof*

Hmm.

Heavy bread makes weird sounds.

...

I presume other magic works the same way, but I don't want to try anything more destructive until I'm well outside of this city. That could be irresponsible.

I shake my dragon head.

I guess I'll try if and when they attack me.

Or, no. When I'm more confident I won't accidentally cause mass destruction. My physical body is already ridiculous— but my real class is a mage. Who knows what'll happen.

I gaze lovingly at my scales again.

Ah, yes. I really do look amazing.

...

I focus back on casting magic.

...

Notably, I can't find any mention of Mana or use of Int or Wis. Asking for my status in that regard also turns up nothing. Is it unlimited or unlisted? Hopefully, the former. Perfect Mind and Body may be the cause, too, which would be nice. Well, not nice for anyone who tries to fight my amazing dragon self.

I decide to make a bigger slice of bread to check for differences. Shredded, this time, to add more complexity.

A human-sized slice of randomly shredded bread covers the first two or three dozen slices.

*shrud*

No, not human-sized as in 'fit for a human to eat.' It's human-sized in the sense that this bread slice is about as large as a human.

I laugh to myself.

"Hraw hraw hraw hraw!"

My weird laugh sounds like a horrid demon having a grand old time torturing someone.

I snap my jaw shut.

*SHNT*

I'm stunned for a moment.

...

That sounded more like a guillotine than someone closing their mouth.

REALLY?

Must everything I do be terrifying?

...

I nod my dragon head side to side.

Whelp, that's a dragon for ya.

Heh. That gives me an idea.

I imagine a slice of shredded bread shaped like a human. It plops onto the large pile of bread.

*throp*

Mmm, human.

I lick the edge of my scaly maw, roleplaying the Pure Evil I've apparently become. My thick forked tongue smoothly slides over my razor-sharp teeth like it's made of some kind of flexible metal.

I'm stunned out of my roleplaying.

Sigh. This is weird. Even my tongue is weird. What isn't weird, today? I look out the window.

At least the sun's going down. That's not weird.

I hear a noise by the front door again. Someone's entering. That same female voice—

"I'm coming in."

"Do as you please, human."

Wat. I don't usually talk like that, do I?

Silence again.

Don't make me do this all over...

She starts walking. Her footsteps are notably heavier than they should be with just armor.

*THOK*

*THIK*

*THOK*

*TAK*

*THOD*

Rather than a person, the first thing I see is a large object covered by a heavy cloth. She puts it down, vertically, on the dirty floor.

*TOD-chrik*

"Oh, is this the mirror?"

"Hah? How..."

I tilt my dragon head a little.

"Are educated guesses difficult for dragons?"

She definitely did not like that guess.

She's started shaking again.

"To put it mildly, yes."

Hm, I might be the only intelligent dragon. That explains a lot about how they've treated me.

Or so I'm led to assume.

She's not daring to look up at me. Except, since she's looking down, she notices the shredded human-shaped bread on top of a pile of similarly shredded bread.

Her face tells me I shouldn't have shredded it.

"AGGHHH!"

"No, no! Relax!"

She points at the human figure.

"You, how—"

"It's bread."

Silence.

Then, confusion.

"I—. Bread? Hah? What?"

I make another slice of bread, this time shaped like a large bird. It falls onto the pile.

*thoof*

She stares at the bird.

"You're bored."

"Yeep."

"Haaaaaaah. I'm going to lose years of my life because of your boredom."

For some reason, I don't like her response. How odd.

I make my first attempt at an imperious tone.

"Well. Are you dissatisfied, human?"

She cowers again, without even looking at my face this time. Jeez, why am I so scary?

"N— no, I just can't fathom what you're doing."

"I'm making bread. Obviously."

She pauses.

"O— okay, I guess."

She stands, not as shakily.

She taps the cloth-covered object.

*tak*

"Here's the mirror you requested. I got a big one since I presume you want to admire yourself."

Oh. Maybe my self-admiration is a species trait. Though, I do admittedly love being a dragon. Why WOULDN'T I want to admire myself? Doesn't everyone want to admire me?

I smirk a little.

"Of course, but I'm also curious why you're all so terrified of my appearance."

She shakes her head.

"Uhm. All dragons are like that. You'll probably look normal to yourself—"

Unlikely, I mentally comment. She continues.

"— but to humans you're a predator. No. Not just A predator; I should say the apex predator. Most nations try not to fight your kind whenever possible."

"Because of the magic?"

She tilts her head.

"Well, breath magic, but seeing what you're doing? I presume you have far more spells than the usual dragon. Make Bread, despite its mostly useless qualities, is a two hundred and fifty Int spell. I've never heard of anyone using it to make a detailed bird or human without so much as chanting."

"Explains why you couldn't recognize it."

She doesn't react to my response.

I glance at the object still covered in cloth.

"Why is the mirror booby-trapped?"

Now she reacts— woah.

"WHAT THE?!"

I take it she didn't know.

She drops to the floor and prostrates.

...

Okay, um. I like her in that pose way more than I should.

"My lord dragon, please forgive my transgression! I beg of you! Please spare my life!"

I roll my eyes.

"I don't care; this is nothing. Also, it very obviously wasn't you who booby-trapped it."

I imagine the magic cast on the mirror vanishing. A small shattering noise is heard, then a large magic array blazes with blue light around the mirror before fading to nothing.

*fssth*

Good thing I thought to study basic magic.

"Thank you, lord dragon!"

Heh, lord dragon. Why does that make me feel so happy? It this another species trait? I also feel like I should tell her my terrifying name. To let her know who she's praising.

"My name is Pure Evil. Tell the others I didn't appreciate the trickery. I'll be out of their hair in a few hours if they can just sit quietly."

She still hasn't raised herself from the floor.

"P— Pure Evil? That's... Your name?"

"Yep, horrible name, isn't it?"

My old name 'Rafien' doesn't even register to my mind anymore. Like it's not me. I wonder if dragons have a lot of unusually powerful instincts. Such as Pathfinder.

"No, lord Pure Evil, it's a wonderful name!"

I feel a bit annoyed. I do enjoy the praise, but it's not the right kind of praise. It felt insincere.

"Please, stop making a fool of yourself and go tell them."

I wave my clawed hand at her dismissively.

She nods her head.

"Yes, lord Pure Evil. I'll do as you command!"

She doesn't even get off the floor. She just crawls back to the front door.

*skrtch*

*skath*

*clondh*

*skond*

*skop*

I ignore her clattering.

Hmm.

Why do I feel like this is getting worse rather than better?

I decide to distract myself with something else.

I grab the now less magical mirror.

It shatters quite easily.

*krrtch-ktt*

...

Oops.

It had some other functions like 'self-repair' and 'extra reflectivity,' but those were covered by a large 'self-detonate' trap. I'd never even thought of these before seeing them cast on the mirror.

Seems magic can do a lot of interesting things. Then—

I cast 'hardness' and 'self-repair' on the mirror again, using the formations I'd seen earlier. I watch with amazement as the cracked mirror repairs itself.

*et-ketch-krrth*

I somehow realize; these two formations are 'inscriptions.' I can't read the humans' language, but reading these runes— no, sigils. It comes like second nature.

My eyes shift among them.

That one alters density, that one alters the nuclear strong force, and that one creates an array of quantum states. There's a whole bunch of em', like the code of a program.

Shame I wasn't a programmer in my past life.

I pull the cloth off from the now undestroyed mirror, place it back on the floor, and get my first good look at myself.

HOLY HELL!

What even?

No wonder she was ready to piss her pants.

My irises are a blazing metallic red color backdropped entirely by black, with similarly black slitted pupils. My teeth are huge, sharp, and they neatly interlock like rows of clean knives.

My horns, however big they were before— those horns were nothing compared these dual-bladed scimitars. There's also four of 'em now, two large horns on the outside and two smaller horns on the inside. 'Smaller' being relative. They're still longer than the length of my huge dragon fingers.

Aside from patterns of armor and spikes covering my features, a row of thick razor-sharp spikes about half as long as my small horns run down my scalp. I put my hand onto the back of my neck.

*chrk*

They continue onto my neck. Presumably, then, this row of spikes connects with those adorning the top of my tail.

I put my hand back by my side.

*thst*

None of that might be so bad except that these teeth, spikes, horns, and the blacks of my eyes, they're all pure black. Not just black like 'ah; it's black paint.' Oh no.

It looks like someone's cut my dark features out of physical reality with a censor bar. It's even unnerving for ME to look at, yet they're a part of my own body.

I look down at my hands and feet again, re-examining my claws and spikes. Yeah. They're not shiny black, either. I hadn't realized the change was so dramatic.

Moreover, this is especially true of my eyes. My pupils are very hard to look at. The fact they're surrounded by such a bright metallic red really brings out their empty blackness.

I stick out my thick forked tongue and look in the mirror. Yep— same deal. From no angle can I see any light reflecting from it whatsoever.

I try to let myself drool a little. I've got translucent but thick saliva. It slides over my tongue, then sticks to the side of my scaly maw. It hangs from my jaw like goo. Hm, that DEFINITELY doesn't help my image.

I've never seen saliva so viscous, either. Though it makes sense since I've changed species. I wipe my jawline.

*shrrrk*

Seems 'Pure Evil' is a fitting name for one with such absurdly evil-looking features.

Though, I do wonder why my dragon lineage has renamed me as such. I don't feel like my alignment has changed, to put it in RPG terms. I would've expected some bloodlust or murderous impulses... I feel like myself.

Well, myself plus an apparently overpowering pride in my strong draconic body. Which isn't exactly a problem. No. I LIKE feeling strong and worthy of others' submission.

It's all very odd and, though enjoyable? Also worrying. If my feelings have changed so much already, I don't know what could happen later.

...

I decide to practice offensive magic.

They were willing to attack me once— I can't be sure they won't try again. I'll be ready.