#163

Snow began to fall from the white sky. Snow like stardust fell at the Dragon’s feet, under the shining sun. He lowered his head at the cold sensation that settled on his instep. He saw his blood-stained dwelling. A prison he had named his dwelling, which had confined him for over a thousand years.

And a place that could no longer confine him.

He had dreamed of this moment as countless years piled up. A future he had eventually given up on, deeming it too distant. Liberation and trust were eroding and scattering within the Dragon.

Until today, before he took in this scene.

He moved his wings. The sound of them flapping brushed against his ears. Looking down, his wings stretched out, casting sharp shadows. They were a different shape than before. Perhaps they were his original wings.

The Dragon thought so and looked at the sky. The snow, though small, was falling rapidly. Coldness accumulated on his cheeks. And on his forehead, above his long eyelashes.

Now, all the Dragon had to do was fly up. To grasp the freedom he had so craved and go anywhere.

Was that all? The Dragon now had his own kind. Though he couldn’t discern the exact forms of those trapped within the eggs, they were his true species, as the goddess herself had given them.

He just had to leave, but the Dragon could not fly. Something felt wrong. He felt like he was leaving something important behind.

He suddenly looked down at the ground again. At the end of his gaze were two humans. Humans whose blood had flowed through those who had oppressed him his entire life. Beings who had used him, betrayed him, and caused him pain.

The goddess had called them his chance to survive, but for him, the long years had been a life worse than death. It would have been much better to die ignorant, as he had cried out to the goddess.

So he felt no gratitude. Regardless of the facts, the years he had experienced were not invalidated. The truth about Dragons, or the ancient tales, were none of his concern. He couldn’t change what was intentionally hidden, what he hadn’t known. He had no connection to those who were his kin. He had been alone since birth.

So he didn’t need to care.

He would erase the goddess’s words. He was sick of it all. The contract, selfishness, humans, everything.

Now, what he had to do was leave with his own kind. It would take just one flap of his wings. He could leave this place. Then, here…

The Dragon, who had twitched his wings, finally stopped as he looked at the fallen human. The white face, with its disheveled dark purple hair, lying next to the living woman, held him. The clear purple light no longer flickered in the human’s eyes.

Snow piled up on the human’s closed eyelids. The human looked cold. Even though this place, created by magic, felt neither hot nor cold.

Yet, strangely, he looked cold.

The sight of the man no longer moving held the Dragon’s ankles. It was strange. He was dead anyway. He could no longer bind me, so I should just leave, but why couldn’t I fly?

At the word “bound,” the Dragon suddenly thought. The things humans had done to him came to mind. The scenes flowed into the empty heart, where the rage that had erupted like a great fire had subsided. First, he saw the face that had stopped him from killing Larkan’s child, saying it was for his sake. Deception. Despite claiming to care for him, the sight of him taking the woman’s side was still deception.

Even though he had said he would prioritize only me.

The Dragon took a step, thinking such thoughts. Without knowing what he was doing, he began to walk towards the human. Crossing the blood-hardened ground, he blankly thought again.

A wounded face flashed into his mind. From there, he couldn’t stop himself.

The expression the human had worn when he told him to die became vivid. The human was smiling. He had never seen such a look before. Of all the Larkan he had encountered, none had smiled even after hearing the terms of the contract.

And certainly, none had carried it out.

“My beloved Kiyen.”

The human’s voice echoed in the Dragon’s mind. A low, calm voice like a lullaby. The submerged voice, which made him feel like swimming in the night sea, the Dragon had greatly enjoyed. The way that voice changed in various ways, and the face, as deep and calm as his voice, changed as he looked at me.

He stopped walking. The Dragon stood frozen before the cooling corpse. His long hair poured down, casting a shadow.

Even though I had come, the human showed no reaction. The eyes that always showed incomprehensible joy—

Did not open.

That was strange. The Dragon blinked.

The snow that had fallen in the meantime grew larger, as if to bury the human. The white face was buried, becoming difficult to see.

He didn’t like that. Angered for no reason, he roughly bent down. He reached out his long arm and pushed away the snow burying the human’s body. The skin his fingertips touched had lost its warmth. Naturally, because he was dead. The Dragon had witnessed the deaths of Larkan for countless ages. There were various forms of death. The end was always similar. There was no difference now.

Thinking such thoughts, the Dragon pushed away the snow piling up on the corpse. But the snow kept falling, and it seemed like it would eventually bury the human if he left.

He didn’t like that, so the Dragon reached out his arm. Then, he lifted the human. The smell of blood hit him.

The Dragon stared intently at the human cradled in his arms. Whenever he held him like this, the human would reach out his arms… and bury his face. The Dragon found he didn’t dislike the spoiled behavior, so unlike his usual sharp demeanor, as much as he thought he would.

The Dragon furrowed his elegant golden eyebrows. He couldn’t discern the cause of the sensations that had been flooding him since the human’s death.

Is it the place? He thought so. Holding the human, the Dragon turned.

His gaze briefly swept over the woman. The anger that had burned towards her seemed to have been cooled by the snowstorm, and no emotion arose. Whether it was due to the goddess’s words or some other reason, he simply didn’t want to see her.

The Dragon approached the place where the eggs were laid. The three eggs were all different colors. He stared at the black, white, and golden eggs, then waved his hand. The eggs gathered together and were placed on the human’s body.

The eggs, bound by magic, rested peacefully in the human’s embrace. Would the human have liked this? The thought suddenly struck him. Following his furrowed brow, his lips tightened.

A useless assumption.

The Dragon lightly shook his head and finally spread his wings. With his own will, uninfluenced by anyone’s command or intention.

He slowly began to fly. With one flap of his wings, his body lifted. The wind brushed past. He exited the northern palace that had confined him, through the hole created by the goddess and the light.

Looking down from the high sky, the Imperial Palace seemed shabby and small. It was nothing like the suffocatingly tall structure it had always seemed.

Below, there would be other humans. He thought about finding them, then realized there was no need. They too were a fate he had met due to his confinement. Moreover, as I said again, haven’t I now gained my own kind?

Erasing the strange hesitation, the Dragon flew higher, and higher, and higher. As he flew high enough to see the continent’s landscape, he realized something belatedly. He needed a destination. A place to settle and raise his species.

Hovering in the air, flapping his wings, he scanned the ground. There was nowhere he wanted to go. Though he possessed immense knowledge, he was now confused, as if lost.

After gazing down for a long time, he turned his gaze to the mountain range he had burned. At the same time, his grip on the human in his arms tightened. The human had said he was from Mount Tesnia. He had also said his family was buried there.

The moment he recalled that, his destination was set. A clear reason followed later. He didn’t want to see the human anymore, so if he went there, he wouldn’t encounter them.

Since I burned it, no one would come there. And since I killed the remaining humans, even more so.

The anger that had briefly subsided flared up the moment he recalled that. Fueled by anger, the Dragon began to fly with a menacing aura. He flew very fast, wanting to shake off all the inexplicable emotions surrounding him.

Arriving in an instant, a distance that would take humans months, the Dragon began to search for a place. Wandering endlessly in the air, he scanned the most intact areas.

Finally, the Dragon discovered the cabin nestled at the very top of the mountain. A familiar scent wafted from there. Though it was a place he had never seen, it strangely drew his gaze. It was a strange thing. His body, swayed by the Golden Seal, must have burned down much of the mountain range, so how did it maintain its form?

The Dragon, descending upon the cabin, slowly surveyed his surroundings. Examining the phenomenon that could only be described as bizarre, he bent his body and entered the house.

The house, permeated with a chill, was desolate, as if no one had lived there for a long time. His sapphire eyes slowly scanned the area. The walls of the cabin were covered in drawings, as if children had lived there.

As he examined it for a long while, the Dragon stopped abruptly upon seeing a drawing left by the door. A name was written there.

Cullen.

The moment the name, written in a child’s hand, caught his eye, his breath hitched. It was a pain he had never felt in his life. A suffocating, throbbing sensation deep within his chest, as if his bones were being squeezed.

The Dragon scowled and looked down at the human in his arms. The faint smile on the purple lips was particularly striking.

“Lord Kiyen.”

The voice that had called him echoed. He strained his ears, but heard nothing. After blinking for a long time, the Dragon opened his lips.

“Cullen.”

It was a foolish act. Knowing he would not answer, the Dragon called out the human’s name for no reason. There was no reply. Only the sound of the wind howled ominously.

“Is this your home?”

Considering himself foolish, the Dragon asked again. Still, there was no answer.

“Cullen.”

Yet, the Dragon continued to ask.

Hoping for that voice—’Yes, Lord Kiyen—’.

“Answer me.”

But there was no laughter in return—

“Cullen.”

And no one to call his name anymore.