I watched from a distance as Ordin, despite clearly not being fully recovered, took painstaking care of his people. After comforting the families of the fallen, he went to those who still hadn’t regained their strength.
Once more, he offered blessings for the wounded—and he even gave the healers a pointed reminder to do their utmost.
The King of dragons checked every corner where his touch was needed. I stood far back and watched that benevolent figure.
“...Haah....”
Was it because Ordin looked so untroubled even after laying out his own death? Or because the anxiety of not knowing his cause of death kept gnawing at me? Either way, it had gone past mere discomfort. My stomach was roiling.
I covered my mouth and frowned. The moment the tension left my body, I started to stagger. Varen, standing beside me, caught me.
"Ceryl, are you—"
"Yeah, I’m fine. Go... to Ordin."
I pushed at Varen’s back and looked toward Ordin again.
As if he’d finished everything he needed to do, he was staring at me with calm eyes.
And in that instant, nausea surged up past the point of endurance.
"Ugh— ghk...!"
"Ceryl! Ceryl, look at me. Are you all right?"
Varen lowered himself, facing me with worried eyes.
I should have soothed him, told him not to worry—but if I opened my mouth, I felt like I’d vomit, so I covered it with my palm.
Even so, instinct made me scan my surroundings. Something about the dragons’ eyes turning toward me made it feel like I almost understood why I was nauseous—and almost didn’t.
"My, Ceryl’s condition is no condition at all."
Ordin had approached without my noticing and rubbed my back. Just his touch made it easier to breathe, but my condition had crashed too sharply. In the end, I couldn’t keep myself upright.
Varen, at a loss, scooped me up as I went down.
"Varen, take Ceryl and let him rest. I should rest as well. I’m tired."
Ordin spoke with a slow shake of his head. A short, brown-haired man came up and took his elbow, supporting him.
A dragon who had always stayed close, attending Ordin. I’d never spoken with him, but his steady, stubborn-looking face inspired trust.
Ordin turned his eyes to the man who’d come and gave a faint smile.
"Kaldrok, are things prepared?"
"...Yes."
"Then I am prepared as well. Let us go."
Varen and Ordin—father and son—had blue eyes that were alike, and yet not. If Varen was like an ocean in a storm, Ordin was like a deep sea whose bottom couldn’t be seen.
That gaze—one that could make me dizzy if I stared too long—turned toward Kaldrok. The brown-haired dragon avoided his lord’s eyes as he supported him.
We walked together down the noisy corridor. Before long, Ordin stopped in front of a bedroom door and addressed me.
"Ceryl, please take good care of my son."
After leaving behind a farewell whose meaning I couldn’t grasp, Ordin gently brushed Varen’s shoulder. That was the last of it—he opened the massive door and went inside.
Varen ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) stared at the closed door with worry, but my condition was bad, so he started moving again.
Held steady in Varen’s arms, I pressed my dizzy forehead. I couldn’t understand why the nausea had hit me so suddenly.
But my health didn’t matter.
If Margon heard it he’d lose his mind, but right now there were problems far more important than that.
"Varen, wait... you can’t just... go like this."
"Your condition is too bad. First you need to rest—"
"Leave me. Go to Ordin— you, stay... at Ordin’s side...."
The words kept breaking as I fought down the urge to vomit. I lifted my limp hand and pushed at his shoulder, but Varen let out a short sigh and held me even tighter.
"Ceryl. I understand that you’re worried about Father. But you matter to me, too. So be still."
"It’s not... that.... Ordin is... in danger...."
"Kaldrok is with Father, so there’s no need to worry so much."
At that unfamiliar name, the scattered pieces of my drifting thoughts clicked together one by one.
Ordin would be killed, and it would be soon.
The human poison wasn’t Ordin’s cause of death. No one else struck by the same poison was dying.
The Belzena Mountain Range forbade human intrusion absolutely—but it was open to all dragons.
If the King of dragons died inside this safe Dravergh Kingdom, then it might be by something other than humans.
So that was why I’d felt nauseous from the start. It really was a situation worthy of retching. Still forcing it down, I barely got the words out.
"Varen, you have to... stay by Ordin’s side. Hurry...."
"Why are you acting like this, Ceryl? I told you someone trustworthy is with Father."
"...Don’t... trust.... Trust no one— ugh...."
I couldn’t finish, one hand clamped over my mouth, and Varen walked on in silence down the corridor.
But cracks began to show in Varen’s rigid expression; his furrowed brow smoothed, then creased again.
After turning my broken words over in his mind for a long time, he let out a laugh as if it were absurd.
"What are you even saying. The way you talk, it’s like—"
Varen stopped at last and set me down on the floor. Even though my legs had no strength and I swayed, he didn’t catch me.
When I wiped away the cold sweat and looked up, his expression was stiff as stone.
"Ceryl. Dragons aren’t like humans. We don’t harbor evil hearts and betray our kin."
I felt like I’d lose consciousness if I relaxed for even a second. And because of that, something slipped out before it could pass fully through reason.
"It’s not... evil hearts that betray...."
"What?"
"It’s not... that...."
It’s weak hearts that betray.
The last thing I saw through my blurred vision was Varen’s face, soaked in shock.
And the last thing I heard before I passed out was Neira’s scream echoing down the narrow corridor.
***
I drifted through thick darkness.
I didn’t know how much time had passed. An eternity, or an instant. I wandered a space of ignorance where I couldn’t tell up from down.
It would have been better if I couldn’t feel anything at all.
But even in the dark, my overly sharpened ears had to hear what I didn’t want to hear.
Voices of life going out—voices that hurt me the most.
'I don’t want to... it hurts... too much....'
'Kill me— ugh— please, kill me....'
After that, smell and touch followed in turn.
A vicious reek of blood numbed my nose. The hot sensation soaking my palms was something I couldn’t shake off.
Unable to endure the horrific sensations, I fled deeper into the darkness. After running for a long time, a faint scene began to take shape.
A wall crusted with moss over crumbled stone. A narrow room where only a single small window let in a little light.
In that familiar space steeped in a musty stench, a familiar figure was there. Sitting at an old desk was Ceryl Aylos.
He was driving a quill across paper like a madman.
Filling it with cramped writing, over and over—
'Ugh... please... I can’t... do this....'
But why was he crying?
Why was Ceryl—no, why was I crying?
In the end, he collapsed forward onto the paper as if falling, and poured out tears. I watched him in silence, then slowly approached.
The sensation of watching someone who was myself and yet not myself was deeply strange. I’d never experienced it, but it didn’t feel like something you could dismiss as a simple out-of-body experience.
It was more like—
I hadn’t recorded the memory, but it felt like watching a film where I was the lead.
I stood beside that figure, familiar and unfamiliar at once, and reached out toward the man folded over the desk.
I didn’t think I’d actually touch him, but my hand could stroke his hair. Soft, ticklish sensation slipped between my fingers.
The man who looked exactly like me slowly lifted his head. Dark violet eyes drenched in tears sank low, like night fog.
'Ugh— sniff... please....'
With fingers pale and thin, like someone who had never held a sword in his life, he seized me. Finger-marks appeared on the wrist that looked just like his.
The grip was far stronger than it looked—laying bare the desperation inside him.
'Please... help— help me.... You can help me.'
Help?
Me helping you—no, me helping me?
I wanted to ask what was happening, but my body wouldn’t obey. My throat felt rough, like it had thorns stuck in it. Even if I moved my lips, no sound came out.
Ceryl clung to me, spilling tears that wouldn’t dry.
'Help me. Please... save me.'
At those last words, my brows knit. I looked around, but there was nothing threatening Ceryl.
Then who was he asking me to save?
I drew in a deep breath. I filled my lungs until my chest swelled, then forced open the throat that felt sealed shut.
"Ugh... who... is in danger...."
I could speak, barely.
But at that moment, Ceryl’s figure blurred. At the same time, the grip on my wrist tightened.
Now it felt like he was seizing my whole body and shaking it. Dizziness surged up.
I squeezed my eyes shut, then forced them open with all the strength I had.
"Ceryl! Wake up, Ceryl!!"
"Haah... ha... Kallen...."
A familiar face was in front of me.
The Ceryl who had been clinging to me and crying was nowhere to be found.
Propped up by Kallen, I barely managed to sit upright. My whole body was drenched in cold sweat, and one wrist still throbbed with numb pain.
