Does it anger you?

The injustice of this world, the politics and games that cause needless suffering and pain. The inequality of this kingdom where those born into nobility and privileged households care only how to best please their wants and needs, gorging themselves on the ill-earned riches while feigning ignorance to those suffering, unworthy of even their gaze, let alone of any sense of compassion or empathy. Living parasites of the society, draining it all of its resources and prosperity, leaving naught but destruction and waste behind. It makes my blood boil at the simple thought, and yet here I am, writing once more in my diary to keep me sane from these blasted spats of anger that are trying to overcome me.

Allowing anger to fester, burning within you with unquenchable rage to the point of no return, leaving you with nothing more than a charred husk is a feeling I am all too familiar with. To speak of experiences of my youth or adult life would make little difference as anger needs not rational reasons to spark, yet the pain they bring as I reflect upon them hurt all the same. Earliest I could remember of such a moment was my first argument with my siblings, spending time together bonding in the massive gardens of the Safir House estate. A simple game of chase almost turned into a full on fight as I felt that my siblings were constantly chasing only me, rejecting the idea that with my still developing wings I simply wasn’t as adept in flying as my older siblings were.

“Quite a silly thing to get mad over.”

And it was, such a simple thing that would at most amuse anyone that heard it, but to this day it still manages to get under my skin the longer I think about it. However, it would definitely not be the last time that I would lash out in anger to my family as I slowly entered more rebellious age, eager to prove myself to everyone. Walking with my mother and our kobold servants on necessary tasks for the House were one of the tasks I looked upon with disdain. Being seen with those I considered lesser in every way was bad enough, but being with my mother while members of other Houses snickered in mockery bothered me greatly. A young, growing dragon gleaming with potential, reduced to a simple errand boy, needing his mother to even survive in the harsh world. What a fool I was to even think such things. And yet, in my infinite foolishness I vented my frustrations and anger on those around me. Not a single encounter with a servant passed without me lashing out on them for weeks, to the point they would avoid my presence at all costs.

Eventually my clash would reach its zenith when I clashed with my mother in her chambers. Words of kindness and sympathy my mother bestowed fell upon deaf ears, while the act of unreasonable anger led me to speak in a way that I will forever regret. To words of wisdom I answered with stubbornness and apathy, to acts of motherly love and kindness I responded in a torrent of rage and screams.

“Pathetic spoiled brat.”

I would continue down this path for many years, hiding my bitterness and frustration of how the politics played out in our “glorious” Caelum Imperium. Signs of corruption were so obvious for all to see it would be difficult to find a single member of any noble House without a chip on their shoulder, the only exception being House Safir. Our end goals didn’t differ much from the rest of the Houses, but the approach was vastly different. Oh how I curse myself every day for being such a fool back then, not understanding our path the way I do now. How I hate myself for undermining that which we held dear and close to our hearts.

“You hated your father.”

To describe my relationship with my father would be… difficult at best. While I never loved his stern and heavy handed rule over the House, I admired his ambition and effort to assert bigger influence within the Imperium. What I would come to realize is that my stubbornness was leagues above his, and the disdain of his dealings with the rest of the noble Houses would soon devolve into pure hatred. I hated that he played by the rules when no one else did, I hated the compromises he always took without understanding the end goal of his pursuits. I hated his “pure” and “honest” approach when all we were met with was lies and deceit. Even our dealings with Kobolds, servants we called them, even when they themselves knew that they were nothing more than slaves, forever doomed to serve the Caelum Imperium without question under the penalty of death if their service was found lacking.

Slowly growing more bitter with each passing day, my admiration soon turned into disdain as I came to understand the ultimate pursuit of my father’s goals. It wasn’t to assert house Safir as the dominant family and rule the kingdom, but instead he wanted to pursue a more noble goal to which, in my then foolishness, brushed aside as beneath us. For what other houses pushed us through, we deserved retribution, revenge, however you wish to call it, I saw my scales bathed in crimson as teeth and claw slashed and pierced at their worthless hides.

Yet my father didn’t see it that way. He saw the path of peace, dialogue to mend the old wounds that have festered over the course of decades, a goal that was almost impossible to even imagine could happen in Caelum Imperium, let alone succeed. For that I lashed out at him, calling him a jester living in his own imaginary world. I couldn’t even bear look at him from anger and disgust, and if you were to ask me now, I couldn’t stand in his vicinity from the guilt and shame that consumed me whenever I think upon my actions of the past.

“You hated everyone.”

Hate would be too strong of a word perhaps, yet finding anything mellower in meaning wouldn’t give it the weight that I felt in my heart as I observed the kingdom I called home. Everywhere I looked, it filled me with bitterness and disgust, I couldn’t look to the streets, nor our noble courts and military, nor even within my family. Everywhere I looked, I felt an abyss which could be only filled with what I knew at the time.

“Anger…”

And within myself I observed that abyss. I felt the anger pouring into it, seemingly endless, yet somehow always threatening to burst and explode. I was a ticking time-bomb, lashing out at a minor inconvenience only to feel a comforting sensation of what I could call familiar feeling. In all those years I spent angry, never once did it occur to me as to who I was truly angry at.

“Yourself.”

How can you love or respect another, when you do not do so yourself. How can you offer a hand of compassion and understanding, if you don’t understand yourself. How can you love life, when anger and hate directed at yourself pummel you to the ground until your self-worth and self-respect is grounded to fine dust, scattered to the winds never to be seen again. Every day when I thought I was angry at something, at someone, it was truly an anger directed at me. I was angry for not being able to resolve issues which bothered me, not being able to correct the many wrongs of my home, angry for not understanding what I should have…

Even now as I write this entry in my diary, anger is coursing through me. As I observe my scales darkening, I think to myself what I fool I was. Anger is a powerful tool, yet so easily misused and often times destructive beyond our wildest imagination, and it almost destroyed my life, and of those around me. And if even by some miracle it doesn’t act in such a way, the pain and suffering caused by it will haunt you for the rest of your life.

And it’s a scar that now I have to live with.

---

Second depiction of my emotions, featuring anger.

Art by a wonderful friend and artist  berry_tail Make sure to check her out and consider commissioning her!

Story by  Glanix