Most Fantasy stories have a dominant priesthood, an order of acolytes loyal to a god/ideology/creed. The good ones refrain from gathering power, and the majority of them dominate others.

There is a priest class in the West. We call them Professors, we should call them the Wyrms of Wordtown. They dabble in Marx whilst wearing their tweed. They heckle virtue while subscribing to sodomy. They scorn any specimen of manhood from their lofty ivory towers. They distribute their missives in coordination with publishing mages. Combined, they coalesce conversation around empty words. Ayn Rand and CS Lewis knew them best in Atlas Shrugged and That Hideous strength. These are Joyless souls orbiting around vapid power struggles, crashing into a future by stealing the minds of other people’s children.

Their most potent power is in line with their wyrminess. They can add a gloss of castings and wiggle up some academic rigor for their allies to appear larger and more potent to the common man. In this, their scorn and contempt serve them well, for they trample down the simple and wise with foolish ‘progress’.

They do, that’s what leads to things like the United States of America.
The thing is, it’s more of a redemption arc. When a Narcissist learns how to become cooperative, they cease to become narcissists.