#178

“You so easily speak the names of others…”

Cullen stood dumbfounded, gazing at his face. His expressionless face remained the same, but his eyes were similar to before. They looked like that when he couldn’t finally utter the name.

It was strange. Even though I could feel nothing, my mind understood that the Dragon was sad. Though I couldn’t feel it on my skin, I knew from my past experiences. Those were eyes filled with sorrow.

“You never once called me by name.”

The Dragon approached slowly and stood before Cullen. A faint scent carried on the wind pricked at his nose. That scent evoked memories. Senses have the power to recall memories, and merely feeling them could suddenly bring back the past.

The day the Dragon buried the bird flashed through Cullen’s mind. It was the day he started to care about the Dragon.

He had thought the white hands burying the bird, the eyes mourning it, were pitiful. He felt he wanted to protect it, even though it was a being he didn’t need to protect. Separate from his inability to feel emotions, he remembered vividly that he had thought such things.

The Dragon’s eyes now held even more sorrow than they had then.

“Do I… hate you… that much?”

Before Cullen, the Dragon whispered softly.

“Is that why you don’t call my name?”

To find the answer, the Dragon continued to ask questions alone. Staring at the unfamiliar sight of the Dragon, Cullen’s lips parted. There were too many questions given, he didn’t know where to begin to answer.

As the silence stretched, the Dragon’s expressionless face began to crumble. His elegant eyebrows curved upwards. A faint blue hue tinged his golden eyes beneath them. It was a color Cullen had liked.

“How can I make you call my name again?”

The Dragon’s hand slowly reached out. The hand, unable to grasp Cullen, hovered near his clothes, twitching. The corners of his mouth trembled too.

“Just once is fine, Cullen… Please, call my name.”

The hesitant hand then very carefully grasped the hem of Cullen’s clothes. He let the white hand hold the edge of his blue shirt.

Confusion washed over Cullen. Since he had awakened, the Dragon had only shown him unexpected aspects. From expressions he had never shown in life, to actions he could never obtain even if he desperately wanted them.

To make him mistake him again.

It was to the point where he seemed that way, even though Cullen no longer loved him. The act of him personally putting on his shoes, the behavior of keeping him by his side, the way he yearned to touch him—these were not the actions of someone without feelings. It was as if… he was acting towards someone he liked.

However, whenever Cullen analyzed his actions, the Dragon of the past would flash through his mind. His resolute words about the difference between their species, his face filled with betrayal urging his death, and his sharp voice that claimed he never enjoyed being touched…

That too had been the Dragon’s true feelings. The Dragon had said his words then were not sincere, but in that moment, they must have been. The words he spoke were not easily uttered. Cullen judged again that the emotions the Dragon felt now were not love.

The Dragon had grieved over the death of a bird in the Imperial Palace. So how shocked must he have been by the death of someone with whom he had spoken, laughed, and shared intimacy? Even if it was the death he had desired, guilt was a separate matter. The Dragon was a being clumsy with emotions. He was mistaken.

“As you know…”

Cullen slowly opened his mouth. He murmured the original name, not the shortened one, into his mouth. Thinking of the long, unfamiliar word made it somewhat bearable to utter. As he thought about explaining, his tongue moved.

“Ierkiyen means ‘most precious being’.”

As he spoke the long name he had given, the Dragon’s face turned pale. His eyes, once full of sorrow, widened, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. He could see his gaze fixed on Cullen’s lips. He looked like a child anticipating something. Seeing that, the area with the scar throbbed. An inexplicable hesitation flickered.

But Cullen made a decision. He had to explain the reason for his actions to the Dragon. Only then would the Dragon cease unnecessary emotional expenditure.

“Perhaps, every time I called that name, I thought of you that way.”

But at the word ‘perhaps,’ the Dragon’s smile froze. The Dragon, standing stiffly, blinked his long, slender eyelashes and looked down at him.

“But now…”

The Dragon, who had been listening, shook his head. As if he knew what was coming.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

The Dragon’s grip tightened on the hem of his clothes. But Cullen finally opened his mouth. His words flowed out along with the Dragon’s refusal.

“Stop—”

The word ‘stop’ was cut off by Cullen’s low whisper. Sharp and decisive.

“At least to me, you are not the most precious being.”

Cullen’s words echoed in the air. Though it was a quiet whisper, it filled the surroundings with unusual volume.

The Dragon gripped Cullen’s clothes so tightly that blue veins stood out on the back of his hand. His wide eyes trembled as he looked at Cullen. The Dragon, to an extent that Cullen, who could no longer feel, clearly perceived, displayed despair through his expression.

The corners of his mouth, which had held an ambiguous smile, crumbled. His dilated pupils stared at Cullen, unmoving. A moist sigh escaped thinly from beneath his lips.

He looked so despairing, as if he had lost someone.

The throbbing of the scar intensified. It was a sensation similar to phantom pain, which he sometimes felt in a severely injured area. It was a wound that had split flesh and bone, so it was natural to feel that way. Cullen also fell silent for a moment, overwhelmed by the dizzying pain.

The Dragon remained motionless. Only after the pain subsided did Cullen continue his explanation. It was to sort out his confused inner thoughts.

“I have no precious beings anymore. It’s not because I hate you or resent you. I cannot feel such emotions. How can a heart that holds nothing create precious beings?”

Only after organizing his thoughts and speaking them one by one did the pain subside.

“There are many others who can call your name in my stead. So I hope you won’t be troubled.”

He had never tried to soothe the Dragon before, but Cullen judged that he had to do so at least for now. The expression the Dragon showed clearly mixed disappointment and shock. Cullen, just as he had done before, mimicked the gentlest voice he could manage.

The Dragon, who had been silent for a long time, finally uttered a word in response.

“But no one calls me thinking of my name’s meaning.”

His voice was deep and cracked. The Dragon’s eyes turned red. Again. Again, those eyes. Eyes that looked like they were about to cry.

“What is the use of a name that is called that way?”

“The Young Dragons will cherish you the most.”

“They have each other. Those young ones were not alone from birth. Only one, someone who will love me…”

The Dragon cleared his throat for a moment. The reddened corners of his eyes deepened. It seemed so due to a passing red cloud.

“Someone who will love me, I don’t even yearn for.”

At the word ‘love,’ Cullen quietly watched him. If it were his past self, regardless of any prior emotions, he would have broken down at those words. He was such a lovable being even when he had ordered his death. But unfortunately, now…

“You will meet them.”

Cullen said calmly.

“Compared to your years, I am merely a fleeting speck. Once you shed the guilt you feel now, like when you met Kia… you will find someone you like.”

If those three young dragons grew up, it might happen, Cullen thought, reaching a conclusion.

The Dragon, who had been listening quietly to his words, blinked. He erased the expression that looked pained, like an injured person, and returned to his impassive state.

“It’s best to go back.”

The Dragon did not answer Cullen’s words. Instead, he said, without releasing his grip on the hem of his clothes,

“It’s late. The young ones will be waiting.”

Saying that, the Dragon began to walk without waiting for a reply. The conversation that had just taken place was as if it had never happened, as if he hadn’t heard or seen anything, the Dragon led Cullen.

As he moved, Cullen was slowly pulled along. He calmly observed the tightening grip of his fingers on his clothes. He considered whether he should remove it, but Cullen decided to let it be.

If it was one of the actions that lessened the Dragon’s guilt, this much was acceptable.

When the two returned, the young dragons, excited by the novelties, rushed towards them. Leaving the children examining everything, Cullen observed the Dragon. He had remained silent the entire way back. Then, after setting down the load, he disappeared somewhere.

Should I look for him?

The thought crossed his mind, but he knew there was nothing he could do even if he went to him. He found it strange that he was even having such thoughts. Instead, Cullen decided to do something more productive. The day’s events, forgotten due to his conversation with the Dragon, came back to him. He approached Lasano, who had become White’s braiding partner.

Standing before him, Lasano glanced in the direction the Dragon had gone and said,

“Did you two fight?”

He shook his head.

“No.”

Fearing Lasano might ask about what had just happened, Cullen went straight to the point.

“Lasano, I have something to ask you.”

Lasano rested his chin on the wooden table and asked,

“What is it?”

Cullen briefly looked down at his hands. The sensation he felt when touching Selem’s ankle was still vivid in his hands. Unlike the clear change when Lasano exerted his power, there was no immediate difference, but there was definitely… a sensation.

Hesitantly, Cullen organized his thoughts and spoke.

“Were there individuals who used divine power, even if they weren’t High Priests?”