Syrlya snorts, looking down at the ground pensively. "Some would call me that."

He's made enough waves in the world, most of them for the good of it. But he's not sure he can call it justified until he cleans up his hand in making it worse and actually solves the dragon threat.

He pauses, then shakes his head. "Not having the world destroyed will be a priceless reward. But they threw a party," he respond dourly. A celebration he hadn't wanted to be the center of attention for, but there was never a choice. He has to be a beacon of hope after all.

He bungled that speech though.