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Izon sits in silence a moment, holding her treat clutched close to her chest, squeezing the packaging, and letting the food ooze out between her fingers. "I, uh... 'the' talk? Dad, uh... isn't it a little late for that? I'm in the championship of the Tournament of Pleasure."

Engy blinks, staring at her, off-guarded. The dragon breaks the silence with a hearty laugh. "No, no, no! Hah, I wouldn't know the first thing about sex as a kobold, and you're a smart enough girl to figure out all the intricacies yourself... well, at least I thought you were good with that. No, this talk is something a bit more serious." He shifts, leaning forward, placing his food aside and lacing his fingers together.

Parkgoers play and relax in the sunshine amidst the lavish artworks of the Anteronian masters, their voices mingling together into a cacophonic hymn of life and society.

"You see all them over there, Izon?" he asks.

"What, the crowd?"

"Well, that answers my question--you don't. That's not a crowd there. Each of those people is an individual--someone with a life and dreams, and worries. Just because they aren't world-shaking individuals doesn't mean they don't matter, you get what I'm saying?"

"I... I'm not sure."

"Look, I know I'm a dragon. Nothing is changing that fact. No amount of magic or fake mustaches or charm spells can change that simple truth. That's what I am on the inside, no matter what. And dragons... we tend to see the world as nothing but collectibles and things that aren't ours that should be ours. Heck, lots of people out there fancy themselves dragons because of their greed. The thing is, though, that dragons... well, we just don't see the world for what it actually is.

"Sure, some of us might catalog and display our hoards. We might take pride in the purity or the rarity of what we gather up and store in our lairs, but no one truly sits back to ask our hoard how it feels to be a part of that collective."

"That would hardly seem logical."

"Heh, maybe not. But in every single copper coin that rests on a bed of gold, there's a story and a purpose. It might have been used to buy a beggar's last piece of bread, and maybe later, it gave a kid happiness when they bought some sugary delight. Point is that every piece of accumulated wealth is important."

"What does this have to do with me?"

He shifts to lay back now, draping his arms over the back of the bench. "With you? That depends. You may have hatched a kobold, but you were raised by a dragon, and try as I might, I couldn't stop you from falling into the pitfalls of what growing up as a dragon means."

"I'm no dragon," Izon says. "Not yet. I'm still stuck with my kobold lifespan, and I need to do something with it--something grand and spectacular so that the world will never forget my power!"

"Let's talk about that power, shall we?" Engy asks, holding up a mechanical finger. "Out of all of your new eroarcana spells, which is your most favorite?"

"M... my what?"

"Can you tell me the history of all of the spells you learned?"

"We-well, some of the competitors used techniques, and I just copied those and...."

"And what is the importance of those techniques? Why did those competitors use them? How important were such skills to the Champions that they would put their position on the line just by using them?"

"I... I don't...."

"You don't know?"

She shakes her head, squeezing her oozy treat.

"That's what I'm getting at here. Whatever you accumulate, it's important to know all the nuances about them... to really know and acknowledge the importance and weakness of every little thing. Being a dragon means we can do much, but we have to decide what we do with that power. What are you going to do? Become a sorcerous queen? Rule the world with an iron claw?"

"W-well, maybe not rule, but show that I am the best."

"And what does that accomplish? Would you really be remembered if you were just another deific being sitting out there, slinging spells and flaunting their power? The cosmos has one of those around every hill and valley and world. You gotta make sure you do something important--something that'll really make you memorable."

"W... what's that!?" she's standing now, on her toes, tugging at her father's robe. "What must I do?"

"What do you think?" he asks, patting her head, giving it a gently rough fatherly rub.

With one eye opened and the other under his palm, Izon ponders this question, watching for his approval when she opens her mouth. "S-should I make other kobolds not feel like I do? So weak and useless and forgettable? To help bring them up to the heights I've seen instead of trying to get more myself?"

Engy lifts his hand up and grabs his snack. "Well, now, that sounds like a lofty goal to me. Those little things have been needing a bit of a pep-talk for generations now. The Council gave them the short-end of the Draconic stick. Maybe it is about time that someone takes care of them."

The dragon yawns and stretches, picking himself back up. "But, that's enough for now. All that seriousness has me pooped. Maybe I'll check out that hotel you're at after all."

"Dad, you're not going to... watch my final match, are you?"

Engy shrugs. "What? Do you want me to cheer ya on? Or would it be too embarrassing for me to shout 'That's my girl!' as you're riding that guy?"

"Daaad!" Izon groans, covering her face. "You're so embarrassing."

"Just doing my job," Engy says, patting her.