#169

The weight of the words spoken in a small voice pressed down on the air. The surroundings grew quiet at the man’s statement. Even the wind, rustling the Kiercharus Flowers in disarray, subsided. The Dragon quietly mulled over the man’s words in silence.

To give up Immortality.

It was a premise he had never once considered. From birth, the Dragon had naturally awakened to his own Immortality, and he had experienced it firsthand through countless trials.

It was part of his very identity. Based on eternal life, their time was different from other races. The reason he rejected humans, the difference in species, was also largely due to eternal life.

Therefore, if he abandoned this, he would no longer be a Dragon.

This was also why he hadn’t judged Kia as a Dragon. A Dragon who dies is not a Dragon. He would simply be another species that never existed in the world. If that happened, the Dragon would be alone again.

“Life can only be brought forth through life. Death comes with a heartbreaking ease, but life does not. It is not enough to simply exchange one life for another. Only the life force of Lord Kiyen’s Immortality has the power to bring back one life. It was an impossible method for me.”

The man slowly bent his waist, meeting the Dragon’s gaze as he sat slumped. His eyes held pity.

Looking into his red eyes, the Dragon realized the other had also changed. In the past, those red eyes had never shown such an expression. While he had been crumbling for three years, the man had also changed in some way. The man’s words slowly sank into his heart. He felt that what he said might be true.

The Dragon slowly parted his lips.

“How did you find that out in the goddess’s shrine? If such a method existed, one of the High Priests would have informed Larkan long ago.”

As soon as he felt the man was telling the truth, this was what the Dragon asked. Instead of fearing becoming a solitary species once more, he wanted to be sure.

It was strange. For his entire life, the Dragon had longed to find his species and not be alone, yet that did not feel like a great matter.

The man smiled wryly at the Dragon’s question. Up close, his cheeks were sharply hollowed. His dry throat and the traces of hardship were evident. He looked haggard.

“…When faced with death, the goddess told me.”

Before the Dragon could ask what he meant, the man continued his confession.

“Arne, instead of dying for me, left me a cursed burden. He told me to live, no matter what. But Lord Kiyen, as you must have realized… surviving alone without anyone you care about is not a blessing. I abandoned my companions myself, and lost Yurisis, my only family. Enduring three years felt like an eternity. It was a living hell. Nothing improved. The goddess did not respond to any of my resentments or prayers. Then…”

The man turned his gaze northeast, towards the shrine.

“I intended to meet my end in the Great Shrine. I am sorry to Arne, but I am not a strong person. The weight of the promise I made to him was too heavy. That’s when the goddess spoke to me for the first time.”

He let out a laugh, his brow furrowed, with pain pooling between his deeply indented eyebrows.

“She told me the location of the hidden secret and commanded me to atone for a long time. She said she would grant me peace someday if I wandered. Peace, indeed.”

The man, his hollow laugh gone, turned his gaze back to the Dragon. The corners of his eyes were reddish, as if the color from his red pupils had transferred.

“Gods are truly damnably cruel and terrible beings. They were to me, and to you, Lord Kiyen, and to Lord Cullen. But now, seeing that I have come here following the goddess’s command, it seems she had some last shred of conscience. Because I can now tell you that there is a way.”

Having finished speaking, the man looked alternately at the Young Dragon and then at the Dragon, as he had before. The Dragon felt that the man knew the consequences of his choice would change things. The pity must have stemmed from that.

When he thought about it, it wasn’t hard to realize. Everyone who had traveled with him knew he had come searching for his species.

And humans had somehow promised to help him. They had said they would do everything they could. He hadn’t kept all his promises, but he had kept the most important one.

Now, he had no strength left to block thoughts of humans. The Dragon succumbed to longing. He had struggled to win a fight he couldn’t win, but defeat was predetermined. There was no way to shake off the longing. Especially for him, who remembered and forgot nothing.

“The choice is yours, Lord Kiyen. You must have much to consider. I will remain here. Until you make your decision.”

At the man’s words, the Dragon slowly turned his head. Gold’s face, looking at him and the man with anxious eyes, came into view. It was not an easy decision to make. He had Young Dragons to be responsible for. They would be waiting for him, having been away from his side for so long.

“In the meantime, I will offer my apologies to Lord Cullen. And I will tell you stories about those who would be curious.”

With that, the man turned his gaze back to the ice. The Dragon, watching the guilt cast over his face, took Gold’s small hand and stood up.

Upon arriving at the cabin, the Dragon found Black and White sitting by the door. The trees looked even more lush than before he left. Sitting in the shade cast by the trees, they stood up as soon as they saw the Dragon and Gold.

“We heard voices.”

White blinked her white eyelashes first and spoke. Black looked alternately at Gold and the Dragon.

“Is something wrong?”

Instead of answering, the Dragon scanned each of the young ones looking up at him. He tried to gauge what emotions he felt looking at them.

There was affection, certainly. He had never disliked small, fragile lives, and he cherished the species he finally had. There was also a clear sense of responsibility to protect them until they reached adulthood. Until then, he could not die. He absolutely could not tolerate them being exploited by humans and suffering the same fate as him.

But if he lost his Immortality, the Dragon could also be injured and hurt. Then, he might not be able to fulfill his role as a complete guardian.

“Kiyen might die!”

At that moment, Gold stepped forward beside the silent Dragon. At his sudden words, White tilted her head.

“Kiyen?”

“That’s the Guardian’s name. You give us names like this, but the Guardian had such a cool name! Isn’t that unfair?”

Gold said, tugging at the Dragon’s robe. Then Black asked,

“What does it mean to die?”

“Some human appeared and said Kiyen wouldn’t live forever. Does losing Immortality mean that, Kiyen?”

Gold asked, his golden eyes shining innocently. White tilted her head and approached them.

“Then the Guardian won’t be a Dragon anymore?”

The intelligent young ones grasped the meaning of Immortality at once. Black also came to their side and looked up at the Dragon. The gazes of the Young Dragons waiting for an answer were fixed on the Dragon.

“I have not decided.”

The Dragon broke the silence and replied thus. Reason insisted it was not a decision to be made lightly. Even though his heart wanted something else.

“My role is to protect you, so I will not make such a dangerous decision lightly.”

Gold stepped forward again.

“But you said that’s the only way to save the human in the lake? You cried because of that human.”

At the word ‘cried,’ White’s eyebrows shot up. White tilted her head all the way back and looked up at the Dragon with worried eyes. Her small pink lips parted.

“Is that why you were sad?”

It was an unexpected question. The Dragon realized Gold had also used the word ‘sad.’ They seemed to already know the emotion that had taken him so long to realize.

“What do you mean?”

As Kiyen asked lowly, Black answered this time.

“Because the Guardian is always sad. Even before we woke up.”

White added.

“Always sad. Even when flowers bloom and trees grow new leaves, you don’t rejoice.”

Finally, Gold chimed in.

“We don’t like it when the Guardian is sad.”

“We want you to be happy.”

The innocent voices merged into one. The Dragon involuntarily took a breath. Looking into the eyes that gazed at him, he saw humans superimposed. Three gems scattered from his broken heart flashed for a moment.

The Dragon couldn’t understand what it meant. Only when a scene he had deliberately forgotten surfaced did he suddenly think.

Perhaps what was divided among Al were emotions originating from humans.

The goddess’s words, that the human thought only of him until the day they died, echoed in his ears. The human had always said they wanted him to be happy.

So there was a possibility. If it were a human, they would surely have wanted me not to be lonely. That’s what he always said.

There were traces of humans everywhere. Even newly born dragons ultimately originated from humans. Standing before these traces, it was impossible not to think of humans.

The dragon’s eyes contorted. With eyes that welled up with a reddish moisture, he asked softly.

“Are you saying it’s okay even if I cease to be a dragon? With one less of our kind, this is not a matter to be taken lightly.”

The three Young Dragons looked at him as if they couldn’t understand. Black answered quietly.

“You are you, Guardian. You have been that way from the beginning.”

“Besides, you won’t be alone.”

The dragons, who had always been together since birth, thought differently. Their way of thinking was entirely different from his, who had spent countless ages alone. It was bound to be that way, given their different environments. In the end, he was an outsider even among them.

What he sought was not a member of his own species.

It was someone who understood his solitude, someone who would not abandon him. Because he hadn’t met such a person, he had merely thought that meeting his own kind would solve everything.

And so, he had truly lost something precious. While finding solace beside a human, he had been consumed by the thought that he was lonely because his species was gone.

What mattered was someone who thought only of him.

The moment a clear realization struck his mind, the dragon turned his body. The answer had been decided the moment he heard the man’s words.

Immortality was not precious to him. Hadn’t he, in fact, wished for death while enduring the time without humans? He did not want to live forever. Not like this, in pain.

His bare feet urgently trod the earth. Unaware of his disheveled state, he turned back and ran towards the ice lake. Branches moved, clearing a path as if to welcome him.

In the center of the lake, lined with purple flowers, stood the man, just as the dragon had expected.

The dragon stood before the man without even bothering to fix his messy hair. His red eyes curved gently.

“I knew you would come.”

The dragon slowly stepped onto the ice. His heart pounded as if it would burst. His breath was ragged. He had never felt this way before. Blood surged through his entire body. He belatedly realized he was flushed.

“Tell me the method, High Priest.”

The man, instead of pointing out that he was no longer the High Priest, looked up at the dragon and said.

“Speak to the goddess.”

“She never answered my words.”

“But now she will hear your voice. If you truly, truly desire it, more desperately than your own life.”

The dragon recalled the past. Days of shouting into the empty void, hoping for a response, flashed by.

How much he had longed for her to speak to him as she did when he was young, resenting the fate that had bound him like this. How much he had whispered about the destruction of Larkan and his hatred for humans. He had certainly been desperate.

But it wasn’t this kind of desperation. Back then, he hadn’t thought of death. He had only harbored resentment. He hadn’t thought that death would be better, just to see humans move one more time, as he did now.

The dragon’s golden eyes turned to the sky. Following his will, the wind began to blow. His longing permeated every space. He whispered and whispered again. Closing his eyes, he called out to the goddess. Beneath his closed eyelids, the image of a human smiling back at him flashed by. His heart pounded as if it would burst.

He wanted to see him.

So desperately, so yearningly, that he would willingly give his life.

He wanted to see Cullen again.

The surging emotions began to rage. The air trembled along with his turbulent heart. The immense power filling the dragon’s body converged towards his heart. Pressure, as if his body would be torn to shreds, coursed through his veins. Veins appeared on his white nape. He clenched his fists involuntarily in pain.

‘I granted your wish.’

As he felt a pain like his heart was tearing, a voice echoed in the dragon’s ears. Even amidst the dizziness from the intense physical pain, the likes of which he had never experienced, he tried to listen to the voice.

‘I have returned the species you desired. If I withdraw my blessing, you will no longer be a dragon. Will that be alright?’

The dragon barely managed to open his stinging eyelids. Brilliant rays of light enveloped him. Staring at the white surroundings, the dragon remained silent.

His longing was something that could not be expressed in words. It was through humans that the dragon had finally come to realize such an emotion existed.

‘Very well. I shall withdraw my blessing and bring forth life. That is the last thing I can do for you.’

The light grew more intense.

‘What happens after that is for you to navigate. Do not waste this opportunity.’

The goddess’s voice echoed as if to burst his eardrums. Simultaneously, a roar erupted. The cylindrical beam of light pierced the dragon’s body and plunged directly into the lake.

He began to feel the life that had flowed ceaselessly within him gradually draining away. A chilling sensation of life force leaving his body spread throughout him. Everything that made up his body was being torn apart. He could feel it.

No attack had ever been this painful. It was a sensation of his insides being torn and reassembled, then scattered again. The pain brought by the change was immense.

Blood vessels appeared in his eyes. Despite not wanting to, a groan escaped him. Swallowing the sound, the dragon staggered. His body swayed.

The immense pain, enough to make him faint, struck the dragon. The entire air grew heavy, making it difficult to draw a breath. The power within him remained, but his body struggled to contain it. The dragon finally vomited blood.

Bright red blood spread across the ice. It wasn’t a one-time occurrence. Vomiting incessantly, the dragon hunched his upper body. It was a state where death would not be surprising. His insides burned.

The dragon forced himself to endure the pain that threatened to make him faint. His eyes rolled back, and his entire body trembled violently for a long time. The light gradually began to fade.

“Kiyen!”

As soon as the light dimmed, the man rushed over. Instead of pushing away the hand that urgently supported him, the dragon laboriously turned his eyes to look inside the light. Changes were occurring in the ice lake through which the light was passing.

The white light melted the ice. Water did not pool; instead, a human lay perfectly still beneath the melted ice. Bathed in light, his face was full of vitality, as if he were alive.

The moment he saw that, his feet moved. Seeing that face, which seemed alive, was unbearable. He was going mad with urgency.

Pushing away the man supporting him, the dragon bolted. His legs faltered, and he lost his balance. His body, rapidly depleted of life force, was losing strength.

Nevertheless, the dragon repeatedly fell and rose, heading towards the human.

The diminishing light finally settled on the human’s heart. At the same moment, his chest, which had been grotesquely open, was enveloped in light and began to heal.

Fresh flesh and bone grew. The split chest was left with only a large scar, erasing all other wounds. A miracle the dragon could not perform unfolded before his eyes.

The dragon finally reached his side. Crawling towards him, he slowly extended a trembling hand. His heart pounded.

The exploding emotions tangled together. It was so intense it made him feel nauseous. Overwhelming joy and anticipation moved the dragon. With ragged breaths, he gently touched the human’s cheek.

Warmth transmitted from his white fingertips. It was not the cold, stone-like temperature he had felt before. It was the fresh warmth he had felt in life, the warmth he had loved so dearly.

The moment he realized that, joy spread through him. His eyes welled up. The dragon let out a moist breath and cupped the human’s cheeks with both hands. The despair that had driven him mad vanished in an instant, and the dragon’s lips curled up slightly. It was warm. He was alive. He had returned to him.

Cullen, the first and only being he had ever loved.

“Cullen.”

The dragon called his name with affection and caution. He hadn’t known before. That calling a name could bring such joy and longing. But now, he felt he understood its preciousness.

The dragon, unsure of what to do, caressed the human’s cheek. At the same time, he saw his eyelids move. His long, dark eyelashes twitched and then slowly lifted. The dragon held his breath, gazing at the wondrous sight.

“Cullen…?”

Just then, Lasano came to his side and called Cullen as well. Their earnest gazes fell upon the lying Cullen. As if responding to their anticipation, Cullen opened his eyes completely. The moment he saw the purple eyes he had longed for to the point of madness, the dragon laughed through his tears. He lifted Cullen’s cheek and pulled it towards him.

“Cullen, it’s me.”

The purple eyes, which had been gazing into the void, slowly moved. The gaze, which had slightly shifted towards the dragon who called him, slowly took him in. His expressionless face stared at the dragon. He was dry and expressionless, like a person devoid of emotion.

Something was wrong.

A sudden dread washed over the dragon. This was not the first expression he had imagined for Cullen. Cullen, whom he had always seen, had always smiled at him, making it even more so. Hadn’t he smiled even in his dying moments?

Could it be, could it possibly be, that he had lost his memory?

It was at that moment. Cullen’s gaze, which had been on the dragon, broke. Instead of showing any reaction like joy or surprise at seeing the dragon’s face, his dry gaze shifted to Lasano. Then, for the first time, he spoke.

“Why are you two… here?”

A voice devoid of emotion spread into the air. That voice was entirely different from what the dragon had longed for.