We nobles are a ridiculous breed. That was the conclusion I came to as a teenager. We fixate so much on classes and abilities—letting them define who we are and what we care about. I imagine adventures have similar problems.

  Take some time to observe how commoners deal with what life throws at them. You will see what I mean. They find ways to deal with the many burdens life places on them, all without ever thinking about the system. We nobles each have a unique hammer and see only our uniquely-shaped nails. How easy such people are to manipulate.

  When I was fifteen, I quietly vowed never to take a useful class or ability ever again. I now mostly have things that help with hobbies—arts-and-crafts type things. People are quick to underestimate me. I prefer it that way.

  I became very depressed in my late teens and early twenties. For a long time there wasn't really anything I wanted. Would you like to hear about my dreams? Probably not, but I will share anyway. Every night I used to dream about dying. Each time, a monster would show up and kill me. Often the dream included friends and family watching as it happened. Some voyeuristic part of me needed them to see.

  When I wake up I often like to paint or knit. My home is inundated with monster plushies. I also have more monster paintings and sculptures than I know what to do with. They add no meaning to my life and I don't treasure them, but there was a time when sitting down and making them was the only thing I could bring myself to care about.

  I know what people like me normally do to get out of such melancholic phases. You find someone who knows what they want out of life and make their purpose your purpose. I had friends who did this. Some married. Some found careers. I've always been good at figuring people out. I know what makes you like what you like, fear what you fear, and do what you do. How am I supposed to fool myself into mistaking someone else's desires for my own?

  The first time I saw Master was he was pitching his hydra army plan to one of the princes of the greater peninsula. I was working as a clerk at that court and had to write down every word of it. Master is a simple creature at heart. He started on track, and then digressed to give a lecture on the different ranks of hydra and why he doesn't think all of them are real but believes they should be anyway. It was clear to everyone present that he cared more about creating powerful monsters out of a personal obsession rather than actually delivering reliable military weapons.

  That night, after being forced to write down his insane research proposal, I had a dream. It started much like any other: there was a hydra, a giant that dwarfed city walls, it rampaged through the city destroying everything in its path. But this dream was different. There was one small thing that separated from all the others: when the monster was done, everyone was dead—everyone except me.

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  I woke up and immediately started painting. I never finished that painting. I couldn't. It just didn't feel like enough. Paintings are for when you've already decided not to act. I rushed off to intercept Master and offered my services to him. It took years, but eventually I managed to get Project Primordial a patron. How many times did I fail? I can't remember. I've committed blackmail, murder, and performed sexual favors more times than I care to think about. At first I was terrible at it, but with time, I grew.

  It's so strange. This insane project and the myriad of despicable tasks I had to carry out in service to it. This was what I had needed all along. I've never shared my truth with anyone. I always smile when greeting people—not because I'm happy to see them—but because I like imagining the repulsion they would feel if they knew.

  "It's too soon. They're not ready."

  "It's been seventeen years! Do you understand how much of this city's budget has been spent on your project? We need them now!"

  "I made this clear at the outset, and in every report since, they will be ready when they turn thirty. Seventeen might seem like old enough to you, but in the life of a hydra it's nothing. They're toddlers! They will die, and not a single enemy soldier will fall to them."

  "You think I don't know that?! I'm arming actual children!" The general's face had turned red, and he paused, turning away and obviously struggling to breathe. Regaining his composure, he continued, "I don't give a damn about your pets! The enemy is here and anything that buys us time is going to the wall!"

  Listening quietly from behind the door, I was relieved to not hear Master talk back after that. He is well into his sixties, so there is no option to start over. I could go to him now, but he will be more malleable given time for desperation to settle in. I foresaw this situation months in advance, and had decided to downplay the war situation in Master's mind. Had he taken it seriously earlier, he would certainly have put a plan in motion. Master is never one to hesitate or lose sight of his goals, but he tends to underestimate how transparent his actions can be to others. Had he so much as thought of smuggling the candidates out of the city, the generals would have known.

  "Master, come, please get up. We should put the remaining domain pearls to use before anyone thinks to confiscate them."

  "Yeah... I guess you can have them. Take them all, it doesn't matter now... nothing matters now."

  If only you knew how those pearls pale in comparison to all the money I've pilfered over the years.

  "I didn't mean for me, Master. It would be exceedingly difficult to administer the pearls after the subjects have escaped."

  It took a while for my implication to sink in. Master peeled his face off the desk, looking up at me with guarded anticipation.

  "Escaped? You mean to smuggle them out? The city's already mobilized. No one's getting out now."

  "There will be no need for anything illegal, Master. The captain in charge of our hydra battalion is a young man who likes to brag. I heard they will be deployed on the wall at the western gate. Remember? the one overlooking that canal where we used to train them? Apparently they've decided to put the youngest ones up front with the oldest generations at the rear of the formation."

  I winked, and Master looked up at me dumbfounded. A broad smile crept on his face as his mind started connecting the dots. In battle, there are certain options that would seem obvious to a hydra—or those who know them well—but which would never occur to the average human.

  I extended a hand and helped pull the elderly mage up from his chair as light behind his eyes returned with determination.