I lowered the hand I’d stretched out and took a step back. Something instinctive inside me screamed that I must not touch Varen right now.
My heart thrashed with unease. The tension, terror, and fatigue I’d endured all day piled together until my stomach turned nauseous. I covered my mouth with the back of my hand to hold back the retch and stared at Varen.
Varen’s eyes kept flickering as if a light were turning on and off inside them. His pupils rolled this way and that as though he were watching something, and yet he didn’t blink even once.
After a long while, a thin, drawn-out breath slipped through his stiff lips. Varen blinked his long lashes slowly. The pupils that had been spinning in turmoil settled, quiet as a calm sea.
Swallowing hard, I moved closer to Varen. Then I tilted my head, checking his face.
"Varen... are you okay?"
By now it was a question that came out of my mouth by habit. But this time, I didn’t need to hear his answer to know it.
Color had returned to his face, but for a different reason it had gone rigid, hard as stone. I couldn’t bring myself to ask outright, and Varen couldn’t bring himself to speak easily, either.
At last, clear droplets fell from those blue eyes, one after another. Only then did Varen open his mouth in a voice that sounded flooded and hoarse.
"Eight...."
"...What?"
"Dragons... eight of them... died."
Just moments ago, Varen had said the number of fallen was seven. In the space of an instant, it had increased by one.
No matter how many it was, the fact that his kin had died wounded Varen deeply. Because he believed he hadn’t protected them.
But the reaction he showed now was utterly different from before. This wasn’t sorrow so much as grief close to annihilation, and a deep shadow fell over his face.
"...Father."
Varen spilled more tears in a sudden rush. His throat looked so tightly clogged that even forcing out those three syllables seemed painful.
And at the word father, my mind started spinning, too. Images Varen had seen—images I hadn’t—rose up in flashes.
I stepped in and seized his faintly trembling hand.
"Varen, you said you can see both the future and the past. Then didn’t you see the past?"
"......."
"Ordin came back into the cavern earlier after being hit by the poison. When I first saw him, I thought Ordin was going to die. But Neira treated him, and the critical moment has passed, so... what you saw was probably—"
"I saw Father’s funeral."
I couldn’t finish the words I’d been babbling. The thread of hope I’d clung to didn’t even get a chance to catch—just went out.
Even though I’d been gripping him hard, Varen’s hand slipped free of mine.
Muttering to himself, he lifted his chin. His hollow gaze turned toward the cavern ceiling above us.
"The future Dravergh saw... does not change."
***
Varen could fly now even while Humanized.
The cliff I’d struggled down riding Miya—Varen rose up it effortlessly. Even with one arm wrapped around my waist, his flight was steady.
Even now, dragons were still flying through the gorge in their true forms, searching for remaining stragglers. The wind-noise from their rough wingbeats never stopped.
The cavern we returned to with Varen was just as chaotic. There were still many wounded who hadn’t come to their senses, and healers ran among them.
Some of the dragons who had evacuated with the children came back and asked what had happened. Since no more bombs were detonating and the cavern was no longer shaking, they’d vaguely realized the battle was over.
But no one could celebrate.
"Sniff... Barmien, my baby... please wake up, sniff...."
Some clutched their children who had returned as cold corpses, wailing in misery.
Some even forced their own life force into the dead bodies. They poured in a faintly glowing energy, but the bodies that had already closed their eyes showed not the slightest response.
Only grief-soaked sobbing echoed through the cavern. Nowhere was there any trace of the exhilaration of victory.
No matter the outcome, the ashes a war left behind were always borne by ordinary people.
Varen swept his eyes bitterly over the dragons, then headed for Ordin.
"Father."
"My son. Are you all right?"
Ordin sat where he was, his color only barely restored. And beside him, Neira—having exhausted all her strength—kept watch weakly.
Varen and I sat and examined Ordin’s condition. A dim light was flowing near his heart.
"This is...."
"Heh heh. This is hardly a dignified sight for a father. I’ve passed the crisis, so you needn’t worry."
Ordin smiled kindly to reassure his son, but Varen’s anxiety refused to lift.
With unsteady eyes, he kept inspecting his father’s body. /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ He pressed a hand over Ordin’s left chest and narrowed his brow.
He had seen his father’s funeral, but he hadn’t seen the cause of death—so Varen’s restlessness was beyond words.
And Ordin only watched his son’s fussing in silence.
"Varen, did you see something?"
At the low question, Varen couldn’t answer. He dropped his head without even being able to look at his father.
Ordin studied his son with that distinctive gaze of his. His ability to read minds found the reason for Varen’s fear almost immediately.
"My, how spoiled you are. A child destined to become the King of Dravergh, no less."
Yet there was no fear or terror to be found in the King of Dravergh. He wore only the same gentle smile as always.
Varen raised his rigid face and met Ordin’s eyes. The pupils that had been shaking with anxiety ever since he’d seen his father’s future finally steadied.
He clenched his fist tightly. After choosing his words as if taking a few deep breaths, he spoke in earnest.
"Father, don’t worry. No matter what, I’ll protect you."
"Ha ha, Varen. I understand how you feel, but you know it well, too."
His father shattered his son’s firm resolve with ease. Smiling as he accepted his fate, Ordin brushed himself off and stood.
Just the King rising despite his injuries sent a stir through the hall. The dragons who had been steeped in grief and fear brightened visibly the moment they saw Ordin standing strong.
"Ordin, are you truly all right?"
"Will the humans attack again? Do we have to leave Belzena?"
One by one, dragons gathered around Ordin. Each asked a question, but with so many voices it became noisy.
Ordin’s breathing still seemed difficult; his chest rose and fell heavily. The light near his heart deepened for a moment, then faded.
Two healers clung to him, pouring all their strength into him. Their desperate loyalty was guarding Dravergh’s heart admirably.
But we couldn’t simply relax.
Belgard’s power, Kallen’s herbs, the healers’ magic—we’d taken every measure available, and yet Ordin’s death had been foretold.
What kind of poison had the human army used? Those filthy bastards—had they truly come prepared to wipe dragons out? A poison this strong...
"Varen, wait. I need to ask something."
A nasty sensation hooked into the end of my thoughts, and I caught Varen. Without taking his eyes off Ordin, Varen answered me.
"What."
"You said you saw Ordin’s funeral. When was it?"
"Not sure. It was the near future."
"Why do you think that?"
Varen’s eyes narrowed. The blue of his pupils sharpened—like he was looking at a different scene, not this dim corridor.
"Because I was holding the funeral together with the kin who died in this battle."
"...You really saw a joint funeral for eight?"
"Yes. I’m sure."
"Varen, seven dragons have already died in the battle. And if Ordin, too... was that truly all—just eight? Are you sure?"
"I said yes. Why do you keep asking?"
I scanned around us with confused eyes. Even if they needed support, every dragon who had been struck by the poison—including Ordin—was in recovery.
"If no other dragons die... then the dragon who dies because of the poison...."
Only Ordin?
The last words jammed in my throat and wouldn’t come out.
If Ordin’s cause of death was that we couldn’t cure the human poison, then the other dragons afflicted by the same poison had no right to be fine.
Then there were only two possibilities. Either there was a later future Varen hadn’t seen—
Or else, Ordin’s cause of death wasn’t the poison.
"The humans who attacked Belzena are all dead. We defended it together."
Unlike me and Varen, who were packed with worry, Ordin looked somehow relieved.
In a deep, formal voice he declared official victory, and the mood in the hall lifted again. Some who heard the news went to call family who were still flying patrol in the gorge.
I turned my gaze outside the cavern. We’d been ambushed in the middle of the night and the war had begun—yet now, dawn light was seeping in.
"Though we joined our strength, there are kin who have returned to the Primeval Flame. Honor their end."
Saying that, Ordin started forward. He approached the dragons who were sobbing with their children’s bodies in their arms.
Ordin touched his forehead to each of the weeping ones, one by one, and closed his eyes. He conveyed gratitude that their children had protected Belzena and dragons, and he offered blessings.
