May is a mage.

Mages live long lives. Most mages live over a thousand years, yet a lot of species think they waste that life. Mages spend well over half their life studying.

May is only a hundred and twenty or so. And she’s, like every other mage, spent her entire life studying. First at home, then at school, then at the palace as an apprentice, and although now she has no teachers, she has a very important job: raising the remaining dragons and killing the hunters who threaten them; she still studies.

She spends long nights sat at an old desk in the library studying by candlelight. Learning by herself the spells others learnt with help.

She depends greatly on her staff, it’s large, taller than her, and thick, having beautiful animals carved into it. It originally belonged to her father, on his passing it was given to her and she’d never once considered getting her own new staff.

She’s also not once been able to do magic without the staff.

Every mage wants to learn to do magic without their staff, the security that even without the wood connecting them and the magic in the air they will not be defenceless.

But May was young and had no teachers.

She had a huge amount of respect and appreciation for all creatures who used magic, not by pulling it from the air around them like mages, but who magic was an inherit part of. She spent plenty of time in her youth studying and talking to vampires, werewolves, even fairies. But dragons fascinated her.

They were born using their powers. Born doing feats other creatures would consider complicated. Dragons didn’t care. For them magic was a right, it was a natural part of them and May loved that.

She was overjoyed when she got permission to come read their library. She fell in love with the culture. And after the tragedy, she swore to protect what little was left of it.

Dragons were powerful creatures, but she swore to protect them. Because what was left was the youth. And though May was young relative to a mage, she felt responsible enough to handle this.

She wasn’t, but wouldn’t be alone.