Darkwyne, dragon of, elemental of forgetfulness

"It was an aberration, a contradiction in terms, an oxymoron."

"It relied on laws of reality that had been unwritten, just to exist."

"The upstarts, the new gods, who had risen up against the originators, didn't want to test their mettle against it, it was that strong. But as a power of forgetfulness, could it itself be forgotten? They hoped so, they hoped so quite strongly."

"It had been described as an aberration, in the first age, when the Primordials had ruled. Now, in the new age of sorrows, where the laws of reality had been rewritten, it was doubly so."

"Entire concepts were erased, and yet, this creature, embodying some of them, still stood. It made no sense."

"In the absence of a law otherwise, I remain." It would claim to the inquisitive, but it let none of those alive. It wasn't quite sure if enough doubted it, if it would disappear. And as a power of forgetfulness, if it affected enough, would it make them unmake itself? Long the creature pondered its own power being the key to its own destruction, accepting no advice, but consulting the wisest of the wise among the dead, and the powerful among the powerful, those known as Dreadlords, when it could. The one who knew the answer, of course, would never tell.

---

"Let the one who brings them lethe slumber in ignorance, let it drive the heat of love away from the living and the dead." Spoke The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears. with a tone of finality that brook no argument. A chapter ended, that tone said. Aberration classified, its exception written.

Yet the creature, the dragon itself, would not accept that. And its lingering salty taste of rememberance, echoed to all that drank of Darkwine, would still linger. It was a quandary, and an aberration, the rules as written, didn't apply. Yet they were the rules.