Hakuryuu ✧ "The one who wanted." - Kija ✧
Ryokuryuu ✧ "The one who ran." - Jea-Ha ✧
Seiryuu ✧ "The one who knew nothing." Shin-Ah ✧
Ouryuu ✧ "The one who knew too much." Zeno ✧
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Zeno didn't know why he did it. He had spent so many years alone, that he had lost count thousands of sunsets ago. He was cursed to an immortal life, blessed to never die. So, it hurt to grow to know someone, to watch them age everyday, becoming sick and frail as time chipped away at them. It shattered his scarred heart when they would eventually die, leaving him behind. This was the haunting blessing of the golden shield. This, was the reason why he isolated himself away from the world.
He was cursed to be alone and he had learned to accept that. Zeno had his moments of loneliness and grief, but never enough to think about doing something like this. Zeno remembered his brothers, the pain and joy, and he cherished those memories but he had no desire to recreate them.
Yet, here he stood, just outside the walls of a tiny village, because recently, there was something new tugging on his soul.
His muted bonds with his dragon brethren had been ignored for decades. As times passed by, the legend of Ouryuu had quieted down. It was rare that Zeno even felt the curious prod from the youngest generations. However, this tugging, this incessant need, was impossible to ignore and was growing stronger each night. One of his brothers was calling out to him, pleading for help, and bond between dragons summoned him like the voice of a God.
The strength of the summoning showed no sign of decreasing over the days and it was now so powerful that Zeno could follow it with his eyes closed, and his mind asleep. So, under the cloak of night, Zeno snuck past the sleeping village guard.
For the first time in a long time, Zeno knew he was needed.
The decaying wooden door creaked as the yellow dragon nudged it open with his foot. He waited, his ears straining to hear inside. There was no sound within but the soft rasping of a sleeping body. Cautiously, the yellow dragon crept inside, moonlight following him in as if to light up his path. The Heavens itself was urging him forward, each footstep following the path that the moonlight laid down.
The hut was tiny, and barren. The stone walls were not properly filled in, letting the cold air nip at anyone's exposed skin. The floor was dusty yet packed down from the use of wandering feet. A smile tugged on the edge of Zeno's lips as he recognized the impression of a familiar scaled foot. Against one wall was a small basin, half full of muddled water. Against the basin's wooden walling was a stack of grimy dishes, most of them chipped or marred. The living conditions displayed signs of two souls dwelling in the small hut, most likely a child and parent.
Zeno's attention was forced to the north side of the wall, where the source of the bond's disturbance was found.
The young boy was laying on a dirty, patched rug in a weak attempt to shield himself from the ground. His body was curled tightly into itself, making it difficult to gauge his size or age.
Zeno didn't realized he was moving forward, hypnotized by the sight before him. It had been years since he had seen that green hair or felt that wild ball of energy trapped in a mortal shell. There was no doubt in Zeno's mind. This was Shuten's descendant, a young boy born with the leg of the green dragon.
The sleeping boy shifted just as Zeno's shadow fell over him. Quiet whimpers were escaping his pursed lips as one of his small hands clutched tight into a fist. Clank. Clank. Clank. The chorus of rattling chains echoed his movement. Zeno blinked twice, just now catching sight of the thick, short chains that were wrapped around every one of Ryokuryuu's limbs.
'They had chained him like an animal!'
"If you knew about this situation," Zeno was talking to himself, a habit that had emerged over his years of isolation, "you'd probably be upset, wouldn't you, Shuten?"
Disgust and horror was rolling in his stomach. How could the mortals do this to a blessed individual? How could humans look upon a child, one who did not appear past his first dozen years, and choose to chain every one of his limbs. How could mankind be so inhumane?
Yet, the only action Zeno chose to do was to shrug off his overcoat. He had seen mankind do worse damage to their own kind. It was no surprised that they had turned upon the dragon warriors. The young boys of the new generation made an easier target than the full-grown warriors that Zeno had originally known. Mankind was too weak, often scared of anything, or anyone, who was different from them.
The yellow dragon's vessel kneeled down to lay his overcoat over the boy. It was too cold to be sleeping outside, and the hut they were in offered no more protection than the open forest around them. The villagers had not even thought to offer a blanket to the small hatchling, leaving him to shiver on the cold ground.
As one of his hands lifted to stroke that familiar, haunting green hair, Zeno shifted slightly, letting the moonlight wash over the boy's face. It was then that Zeno saw what his own shadow had been hiding from him.
Dark purple bags rested beneath the boy's eyes. Bruises of various shapes and ages covered his angelic face and there was even dried blood resting on the corner of his lip. The evidence of abuse was painted onto the boy's face as if done by a twitchy artist. The villagers were bruising and beating him to the point that Ryokuryuu looked scared and frustrated, even in his sleep.
"How stupid," Zeno murmured, "to keep the green dragon on the ground." His hands drifted down, touching the heartless, cold metal of one of the chains. "That's not something anyone can do."
Snap!
The chain around Ryokuryuu's right leg snapped between Zeno's clever fingers. He didn't even need to use much pressure, as the links were already heavily damaged, displaying signs of the boy trying to break himself free in the past.
Instantly green eyes were pinned on Zeno. The small body under the overcoat tensed and he curled his body even tighter, as if expecting injury. Fury and hatred were painted in his eyes and his lips pulled back in an animalistic display of hostility. For Zeno, who feared very little, the sight was adorable.
"Ryokuryuu can be scary when woken up," Zeno whispered kindly.
Zeno noticed that the green dragon was pulling his inhuman leg underneath him, as if to hide it and keep it from being chained again. Zeno, who was still crouched down, leaned back to give the young dragon more room to feel comfortable. There was a sharp prod from the bonds that bound them, done more harshly than truly required.
"Who are you?" He whispered, his eyes flickering from the stranger in front of him, to the open door behind him. The immortal man found it curious that even though the boy had felt their bond, knew of the connection they possessed, he did not trust Zeno and displayed strong hostility towards his brethren.
"Zeno is Zeno." The older dragon tried to flash a dazzling smile but when Ryokuryuu flinched, he knew that was a mistake.
"What do you want?"
"Ryokuryuu summoned Zeno. Zeno came to help." Zeno took a small shuffled to the left.
"I don't need your help." The boy was hostile for one so young, and reminded Zeno of a beaten puppy he had once tried to care for. "Where is Garou?"
Garou? A caretaker by chance? Or the other man who lived here? Zeno shrugged as an answer, honestly unsure. He took another tiny step back.
Zeno could see the way that Ryokuryuu was still eyeing the open doorway. It was obvious he craved freedom, and desired to be in the air, away from this filthy hovel. Yet, he continued to eye Zeno like he was an attacker, just waiting for the right moment to pounce on the boy.
This was cruelty of man, imprinted on a child.
Bravely, Zeno reached a hand forward. The nameless child was still eying him, his small body as taunt as a bow string. Zeno's fingers brushed the cold metal, feeling rust flake off underneath his fingernails. He didn't fail to notice that the boy had position his dragon foot carefully, prepared to kick Zeno away if he proved to be a threat.
Zeno had no desire to be kicked by that leg. When Shuten had kicked him, it always hurt and broken ribs were one of his least favorite injuries. They punctured too many organs and when shattered, the shards of bone were like tiny daggers traveling through his body as they healed. So he moved quickly, before the boy chose to attack.
Snap!
The second chain crumbled beneath his human strength. With both chains destroy, Ryokuryuu's legs were free. There was a moment of breathless silence as the child stared at Zeno in disbelief. Then, he moved quickly. The boy placed his dragon foot over one of the chains connected to his arms. He leaned all his weight forward, turning the metal to dust beneath the strength of a dragon. For the first time, Zeno saw a smile tugging on his lips as he moved to destroy the last chain.
"Don't try to stop me," the green hatchling warned.
"Zeno is a traveler. Whatever Ryokuryuu wants to do, Zeno will not stop him."
Green eyes flickered from Zeno, to the chains, to the open doorway. Again. And again. The tension was growing heavier by the second, making Zeno shift nervously.
Finally he asked, if only to break the silence, "Where will Ryokuryuu go?"
"Away," was the answer he received.
"Why are you waiting, then?"
Zeno's question broke whatever spell the hatchling was under. A pleased, self satisfied grin broke across his face and he leaped to his feet, Zeno's overcoat clinging to his shoulders. There was a heavy thud as his dragon foot slammed into the ground a second after his human foot. A cloud of dirt floated up, clinging to Zeno and the child's clothes.
Zeno, still crouched down, turn to watch the hatchling take his first step towards freedom. It was like watching a foal learn to walk, or seeing a small child's first steps. Zeno felt proud that he could help his dragon brother and was there to see the joyful light enter his eyes. The boy craved freedom, and Zeno sympathized with him. The yellow dragon often craved freedom too when the weight of immortality becomes too heavy.
"Ryokuryuu," Zeno had some last words to give him.
"Jea-Ha," the boy corrected. "I'm not the dragon from legend. I refuse to be bound like them."
"Jae-Ha," Zeno murmured the name softly. He liked it. It was soft, yet rough. It reminded him of the boy standing before him. "If you want freedom, stay away from the ocean."
"The ocean?" A pleased light entered his eyes. Zeno huffed childishly at the sight. Instead of discouraging him, it seemed Zeno accidentally fascinated him with the thought. "Ryokuryuu is only free when he can fly," Zeno was quick to explain. "No one can fly in the water."
"Hm," was the only answer he received.
Jae-Ha had reached the threshold of the hut, pausing long enough to drop the overcoat in the doorway, and with a single bound, he was gone. Zeno rushed to the doorway, eager to see this brother in flight again. Like a exotic bird, Jae-Ha soared across the night sky, as silent as a hunting hawk. The villagers were still peacefully sleeping the night away, unaware that their dragon had escaped.
As Jae-Ha disappeared behind the horizon, a shadow detached itself from the side of the hut, edging closer to the traveler in the doorway. The blonde turned wide, innocent eyes to strange man approaching him, surprised that someone had managed to sneak up on him with his advanced hearing.
The first thing Zeno noticed was that the stranger was walking with a limp. His clothes were torn and dirty, hanging off of his skeletal figure. Weary green eyes peered at Zeno, and a nasty grimace was smeared across his lips. Zeno flinched when the moonlight reflected off of his greasy, emerald hair.
Now aware of who he was looking at, Zeno could feel him in the bonds. It was like feeling a leach on his neck, or the energy of a dying flower. Eels and snakes, wiggled and molested the bond that connected them, nearly consuming the tiny bud of energy that was stunted, and slowly pulsing with grime and poison. It felt revolting, and Zeno wanted to be far away from it.
This was how it felt to be near a dying predecessor.
Both of the elder dragons were gazing at one another. Zeno felt pity and horror for the terminal man before him, while the predecessor was just glaring down at Zeno. The eldest green dragon took a step forward, and Zeno felt himself tensing, prepared to face the fury rolling off of him in waves.
Two steps forward, and they were nearly chest to chest. This man, who Zeno was now believing to be Garou, was nearly a head taller than him, dwarfing the yellow dragon. This close, Zeno could smell the sweat and dirt that clung to dying Ryokuryuu like a cloak. The weight of Garou's gaze was heavy, like a boulder resting between his shoulder blades.
Their shoulders clipped against each other as Garou forced himself past Zeno, into the tiny hut.
"Always knew one of you would come for him. That boy was crying for help." The voice that came from behind Zeno was low and dark, rumbling in his chest like a roll of thunder. Zeno was so hypnotized by the sound, that it took him a second to understand what was spoken.
"At dawn, we'll hunt you both down." Not a threat, but a fact. Zeno nodded eagerly in understanding. Garou was giving them until sunrise before he alerted the villagers. By then, Jae-Ha would have traveled a vast distance away and Zeno would disappear.
Ouryuu was very good at hiding from the world.
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They all felt it when Hiryuu returned to Earth. There was no hiding it or denying it. For those who were asleep when the birth happened, they dreamed of dancing fire and lustful, baby cries. For those who were awake, they felt something connect inside themselves. They never knew they were missing a vital part of themselves until then. They didn't know what being whole felt like, until this unworldly connection clicked into place. The stars were suddenly brighter, they could hear the noises of the calm forest around them, and each had a desire to sing with the gurgling river. The dragons were finally complete.
The red dragon would walk amongst them again.
Zeno laid back in on the mossy floor, feeling the cold kiss of dew against his skin and giggling at all of the young dragons' curiosity. The vessels of Seiryuu, Ryokuryuu, and Hakuryuu were exploring the bonds they all held, trying to feel why the world felt different to them now.
Nudges. Prods. Caress. Tickles. Their weary curiosity was endless. Zeno took a deep breath, before closing off his end of the bond. It was a trick he had learned centuries ago, when Gu-En's grandson had tried to find him. For a short period of time, Zeno could stay hidden away from the other dragons.
He only kept one bond open. The golden dragon closed his eyes and basked in the simple feeling of a newborn. The young king was unknowingly projecting, sending his simple thoughts and emotions to his fellow dragons.
'How strange,' Zeno mused to himself. 'Hiryuu didn't have this bond with his dragons. Hiryuu was truly human last time.'
Zeno gave an aged smile, his eyes falling close. He could feel Hiryuu's joy as the newer generation played with the bonds. Yet, it felt like all the weight of the passed centuries had crashed upon Zeno's heart. He felt so tired, and so old. So much time had passed, so much had changed, and yet, here he was, forgotten by time.
"Zeno must wait a little bit longer," the young man reminded himself. After all, what use is a dragon to a newborn child?
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Across the land, in the heart of a kingdom, a newborn girl cracked a toothless grin and giggled. Her tiny fist reached up, stroking a dragon that only her eyes could see. She didn't understand anything yet, her mind could only focused on simplistic, instinctual things.
All young Yona knew was that she didn't feel alone, even though her parents hadn't picked her up yet. She felt safe and love, despite that strange man tugging viciously on her tiny red curl. A warm feeling was spreading through her, causing her to sputter and burst into laughter.
She felt loved and accepted.
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When one lived forever, one notices that events often repeat themselves. It was human nature. Unlike the dragons, humans were never satisfied and greed ruled their lives. Kouka Kingdom was a prime example of this. Villages grew uneasy, nobles grew greedy and tempers turned violent.
Zeno knew the time of current peace was faux. The nearby lands had been growing uneasy and rumors were spreading about the kind King.
Normally, the yellow dragon wouldn't care. The actions and thoughts of the people were no longer his concern. He was content as he was, a distant observer.
Time was determined to change his ways though.
Flames licked at the night sky. The orange and yellow blossom crackled with power as it consumed all in its way. Black smoke towered above it all, attempting to block the stars and Heaven's view. Building crumbled under the weight of the flames, humans cried out as they were swallowed whole. As terrifying as the fire was, it was innocent when compared to what man was doing against man.
Stallions were screaming in agony, children cried for their parents, and woman begged for mercy. Soldier were raping and murdering anyone they pleased. They were no longer the innocent creatures that the dragon Hiryuu had crafted with his own claws. As war raged over the lands, mankind had become something so disgusting that even the Heavens could not stand to look at them.
Clouds built on the horizon, the low rumble of thunder traveling over the grounds. Still, despite the Heaven's displeasure, man raged on. Zeno stood on a crested hill, crying silently as he watched the carnage taking place below him.
Normally, Zeno would not care. It was no longer in his nature to worry about those who were bound to die anyways. This time was different. This time, the kingdom had a hidden jewel, and the dragon's most prized treasure was hidden away there, in vast danger.
Hiryuu was terrified and crying for help through the bonds. Zeno could only imagine how the young boy felt. His home, his family, his whole life was being destroyed, all in one night. Hiryuu was in grave danger, his life closer to being forfeited with each second that passed by. The more fearful he grew, the more the red dragon tugged on the bonds of his dragons.
The following moments were a haze to Zeno. He was aware of himself running towards the horror. He knew he was running over broken pottery and battered corpses. He could see his skin splitting open, he could feel his bare toes splashing in the blood of the innocent, but he was uncaring. Mentally, and spiritually, Zeno was distant, with only one thought of his mind.
'Hiryuu needs me!'
Swords slashed across his skin. Women tried to grab his billowing robes but he ripped himself free. Cries echoed around him but he ignored their pleads. He was determined to get to the heart of the kingdom, where a burning palace was crumbling.
His bleeding feet had just touched the palace steps when a searing pain ripped itself through his body and soul.
Zeno could do nothing but collapse where he was and roar out to the Heavens. Agony, unlike anything his immortal life had ever felt, ravaged his senses. His limbs being torn from him, organs being ruptured, even losing the love of his life, was nothing compared to this pain. It paralyzed him to those warm steps, unable to do anything but cry out with tears streaming down his cheeks.
Zeno was only vaguely aware that it was not his agony he was feeling.
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Young Jae-Ha had been midflight when his leg pulsed madly. Gravity, which often ignore Ryokuryuu, suddenly crashed down upon him, sending him pummeling to the ground. He yelped out as several bones snapped upon impact, and his blood turned to fire.
Something was tearing his leg apart, filling his body with unimaginable pain. His leg felt restricted, as if it would explode from being contained in the clothed boot. With a pained snarl Jae-Ha turned on himself like a wild dog. His fingertips tore at the soft material of his boots. Skin ripped and nails tore as he forced himself to continue scratching until his fingertips were scrapping against unyielding scales.
What greeted his gaze made the injured, broken boy whimper. The normally small scaled leg had increased in size. He has gained muscle mass in minutes, and the once leathery scales were now stronger than the steel of a sword. As he watched, the abnormal limb pulsed several times, contracting and relaxing with each pulse.
Incredible power was racing through his veins, and yet, Jea-Ha had never felt more trapped.
Confused, and scared, the green dragon spiritually reached inside himself. A spiritual instinct was whispering to him to check on his brothers. A voice, similar and yet different from his own, was insistent that he look for his brethren. He had too.
Three healthy bond met his intriguing touch. Ouryuu, Seiryuu, and Hakuryuu. Each one was being tortured like himself, full of confusion and agony.
Three other bonds, similar yet different from the others, were pulsing weakly in protest. Their frail bodies were unable to take the sudden demand of pain. Their spirits were crying out for mercy, begging the silent Heavens for freedom of the agony.
Snap! Jae-Ha's whole body convulsed as he felt Garou die. The power that had been keeping his mentor alive, was clipped, like a dry twig. Whimpers escaped the green dragon's lips as he felt that extra power, as minimal as it was, flow into him.
Jae-Ha had no warm feelings for his predecessor, but it was sickening to feel him die, and to know it was because of him.
The proud green dragon didn't even care that he was crying.
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Young Seiryuu whimpered in his sleep. The young boy was having a nightmare. Night terrors were common to him, but this one felt different. Everything felt too real, as if he was there, standing in that bloody battlefield as the fire blazed behind him.
Men were dying. Women were crying. Children were being slaughtered. It was cruel and needless. The small hatchling was scared but no matter how much he pinched himself, his mind refused to wake up.
"Help," he tried to cry out but no sound escaped his throat.
Why wasn't Ao waking him up? His father-figure often snapped him out his nightmares, claiming that his pitiful whimpers disturbed his sleep.
Ao was not answering his pleads though.
The small boy ran forward, trying to catch a nearby man's attention. He felt warm liquid lapping at his shoes, seeping into the fabric and touching his toes within. His other foot came down, landing on a beaten corpse, which rolled beneath him and sent him reeling. His arms spread wide in an attempt to stop his descend but there was no escaping gravity. His body slammed into the ground, sending shockwaves of pain through him. Blood, dirt and ash rushed into his open mouth, attempting to choke him. The blue hatchling coughed fruitlessly, trying to clear his lungs.
His head hurt. His body ache. His skin was warm from the puddle of blood he crashed into. The boy was scared and he was not feeling well. Even with his eyes shut, they were throbbing in agony, keeping a steady pulse with his heart.
He was crying but no help was coming. He was scared but he couldn't wake up. The blue dragon didn't know what to do and his eyes were just gaining more pain. Agony. So much pain!
"Ao," the child whimpered as he curled himself into a tight ball. "Ao."
He just wanted the pain to go away and to wake up.
He didn't even notice that his frail bond to the sword master, was gone.
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Something wasn't right. Kija had been sick over the last few days, the ball of unease in his gut made it hard to eat, which meant anything that traveled past his tongue caused him to vomit. Within the last few hours though, he had gained a fever too, one high enough to rival a fire. He was weak, he was tired, and he felt this undeniable need to see his father.
"Granny," the boy mumbled weakly. "I want to see my father."
"Shush child," the small elder scolded. Behind the pair, Kija could hear the villagers speaking about delusions and fevered dreams.
Kija used his dragon hand to push himself up, the sweat laced sheet clinging to his soaked body. They didn't understand! He could feel something was wrong. The mass of unease was spreading its tendrils, infecting his whole body. Shivers traveled down his spine as he kicked his feet free of the blanket that they had wrapped around him.
He shuffled towards the door, ignoring the pleading and grasps from those around him. Kija had to see his father, now, before it was too late. A man from the village grabbed him, his strength bringing the boy to a halt. Mindlessly a growl rumbled in his chest cavity, shocking those nearby into releasing him and letting him pass.
Never had anyone heard the calm, sweet Kija growl, like the beast who blessed him with his hand.
"I need to see him," Kija explained weakly as he traveled forward.
The trip across the small village was a haze. Many people tried to greet him. Even more tried to stop him. Kija was determined though, and soon, he was climbing the stairs that lead to the tower where his father had isolated himself.
It had only been three months since Kija had seen his father, but when the small boy crossed the threshold into his father's living quarter, he couldn't stop the undiluted shock that filled him.
His predecessor had lost weight. The once strong man was now bed-ridden, a living skeleton wrapped in aged skin. Ice traveled down his spine as Kija gaze at what he was doing to his father. He, born to be the next white dragon, was sucking the life out of his birth father, just like a starving leach.
A whimper escape him as a lash of pain attacked his soul.
"Granny?" A raspy gasp filled the distance between father and son. "Granny," a hand twitched towards Kija. A right, human hand. "Look at this, this hand." The man's finger trembled as he flexed his fingers. "No matter, how you look at it, it's just a normal hand."
Another lash of agony lanced its way through Kija's body. His blue eyes widened in shock as he stared at his father's hand. His own dragon arm felt heavy by his side. "Those strong dragon claws are, nowhere to be found."
No, they were not. Kija flexed his hand, feeling those strong dragon claws indenting his scaled palm. "The strength of the gods, is nowhere to be found. That power has, been taken from me." Kija's body was pulsing and his eyes were moist. He wanted to apologize but he couldn't get the words past his swollen throat. All he could do was stand in the doorway, the source of his father's pain.
"Hey Granny, if it's now," a deep rasp interrupted his words. His body convulsed twice on that clean bed he rested upon. Hypnotized, and frightened, by the sight in front of him, Kija found himself taking a step forward. "If it's now, that child, am I allowed to touch that child?"
"I want to at least once," his father's words were fading. "Can I be allowed to touch him once, in my final hour?" That was his last request? The man who avoided Kija's admiring gaze, who had carved the white dragon's devotion onto his newborn back, wanted to touch him? Kija was in pain. His temperature was rising, but his body was cold, and that agonizing pulse had not left his arm. It was all nothing when Kija looked at his dying father, and knew his father wanted to embrace him.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat. Tears dripped steady to the wooden floor.
"Sorry," the man choked out his words. "It'll trouble Granny agin. Someone like me, at this point," his words were slurring together. Kija could tell his father was having trouble forming his thoughts, let alone speaking those words. "I can't, that child."
'I'm sorry to cause you suffering, Father.'
Kija flung himself forward, draping his young body over his father. He could feel the folds of skin beneath him and the sharp protrusion of bones against him. Kija could see the dirty white hair spread across a nearby pillow, the same hair Kija possessed.
"Father." Kija clutched his father to him, embracing him for the first time. "Father."
'Why didn't I come prepared to talk to him? There are so many things that I want to talk to you about.'
Using the last of his feeble strength, Kija's father wrapped his right arm around his boy and held him close. Thin, weak human fingers rested over the scars he had inflicted onto his offspring.
"Kija," the man murmured quietly.
Snap! Kija clutched the man closer as he felt the bonds between the two white dragons, the only intimacy they shared for years, snap apart. His arm trembled as the last of its energy joined together in one vessel. In the background of his mind, he was aware of the echoing cry of a small girl.
Kija's father spoke his name for the first and last time, before never opening his eyes again.
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It was instinct that drove the yellow dragon forward. Instincts and the echoing cry of a child in the back of his mind. All around him was fire and blood. Within him, agony and pain, not all of which were his own. Zeno could feel Hiryuu desperately grasping onto the bonds, still frantically searching for help. Ouryuu could feel his other brothers dying, pushing the burden onto the younger generation.
"Zeno is here," the man panted out. Somehow, he had gotten to his feet and was stumbling forward. "Zeno will shield you."
The pain made it hard to focus but Zeno continued to walk. He trekked through the dusty streets, past the mourning humans, uncaring of the soldiers on horseback. Zeno was being called. All of Ouryuu's thoughts, his whole purpose in life, was to find Hiryuu and shield him.
No one stood in his way. After it was clear he would not help, nobody cared for him. Humans fell back on baser instincts, which demanded the strong survive. Unable to fight against the destruction of their world, they fled.
Zeno followed the bond blindly. He felt possessed, as if someone else was guiding him, moving him forward one step at a time. He traveled through rooms he had never seen before, found passageways that were never known to him, and experienced haunting memories that plagued him as he followed familiar hallways.
Finally, he arrived in a room he had never before seen. Gold, silk and expensive decor covered every surface. Pale pink and light lavender dominated the room, speckled with light green and pale yellow. The area gave off a soft, feminine aura, revealing it was the Queen's Chambers. Crimson red was splattered over the surrounding area, a cruel touch to the soft decor.
Three male corpses were on the floor. Blood continued to spill from their bodies, their deaths recent. All the wounds were inflicted from behind, as if a soldier had surprised them. Laying on the huge bed, was the final corpse. Her serene, heart shaped face was turned to the Heavens. Her hands were peacefully folded on her stomach, her eyes closed as if in sleep.
The arch of splashed blood, and the numerous stab wounds made it obvious that this woman was posed after her death. Her pale skin and blood soaked robes revealed that she had bled out, and no human held still while dying.
A nearby crown, resting by her bed, told Zeno that this was the queen. Probably one of the first to fall in the cowardly ambush.
A few strands of red hair, vastly different from the Queen's midnight locks, were tangled on a nearby pillow. A smaller trail of crimson, almost unseen on the mulberry sheets, painted a trial from the bed, through a door, outside to the raging war.
Zeno followed the path, knowing who it would lead him too.
The war around the kingdom was dying down. The soldiers were losing their momentum and Kouka Kingdom, along with the royal family, had fallen. A quiet murmur was spreading through the invaders, one that Zeno knew, would soon turn into a cheer.
Mankind had destroyed itself once again, and Kouka had fallen.
The last of their precious kingdom was hidden away though, somewhere and soon, Zeno found himself in a familiar courtyard. A manmade river ran red with blood and the silhouettes of the trees and bushes makes ghouls in the firelight. He pushed a large, flowering bush aside, its sharp thorn biting back to defend its center. The land that was created from the dragons, was trying desperately to preserve one of its blessed creatures.
In the center of the bush was the largest blood puddle yet, and a young girl's kimono. Zeno's breath caught in his throat at the sight, for, that was it. There was nothing more, but the bloody sign of his failure. He had wanted to save Hiryuu, and he had failed.
A blush of dawn peeked over the mountains, but clouds were still thick in the sky. The Heavens were hiding from mankind, hiding from Zeno. He had failed and Hiryuu was gone.
As a new day started, it was clear that Kouka's most precious treasure, had disappeared.
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The following days passed quietly. Zeno had retreated from the burning castle, leaving the monsters of men to ravage the building. The local villages were suffering, their citizens scared and unsure what to do. Words of sorrow were murmured for the Queen, but no one seemed to care about the loss of the kind King Il. Rumors, hushed and quiet, were whispered about their daughter. No body was found, but not many consider her alive. A small child, barely half a decade old, could not survive alone. And so, the conflict for the throne began with all generals and villages wanting to take the throne for themselves.
Were there any royal survivors at all? It was not impossible, but improbable. There had been no word of a search for the young princess. True, the kingdom was still recovering, but humans were like wildflowers. They survived the impossible odds and kept growing.
If Hiryuu had survive, how would he had grown?
The thought alone caused tears to well up in Zeno's eyes and he wrapped his arms around him in a false sense of comfort. His failure would forever haunt him. How long would Zeno have to wait for Hiryuu to return this time?
Now that he knew his dragons could not protect him, would Hiryuu ever return?
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Shining violet eyes blinked.
Wide orchid eyes blinked.
The dragon vessel, and a young man stared at each other from across the almost bare cabin.
The young girl was kneeled down, her hands grasped tightly in front of her. A large overcoat was covering her small body, and her wild hair was a tangled mass on top of her head. Sweat still beaded her brow, and her body trembled every few seconds, displaying signs of her lingering fever. Bandages were still wrapped around her belly and arms, and she winced when she moved too fast.
Ik-Soo was sitting down, his long legs folded gracefully in front of him. He had a thin robe on, and he was nervously fidgeting with the hem. He had tried smiling at her, but the young girl had only flinched away at the sight, which made him feel ashamed. So Ik-Soo had decided to just sit in his spot, as still as a statue, and wait for the girl to speak to him.
He had been waiting since dawn, and dusk was settling over the land now. The girl has yet to even moved or protest her sudden dwellings. The priest mused that the child was still in shock, unable, or unwilling, to process what had happened before her eyes.
Two loud rumbles filled the hut, shattering the silence between youths.
"Is the princess hungry?" Ik-Soo's tried to coax her into conversation.
The girl blushed and looked down at her fingers, which were now tearing at the edge of Ik-Soo's spare overcoat. No answer was given however, except for another rumble from her stomach. Her eyes, a brighter shade than Ik-Soo's, continued to assess the man who had rescued her.
The young princess decided quite quickly that her savior was beautiful, and looked a lot like her mother. His face was thin, and unblemished. His cheekbones were narrow and he had wide eyes that looked similar to hers. Even his hair was curly, and fell in playful ringlets around his face. His bangs were long, creeping into his eyes and giving him an unkept appearance. The pale yellow color of his hair matched his clean white robes and brought more attention to his eyes.
"My name is Ik-Soo." The priest leaned back, and casted a meaningful glance around his cabin. There was little food stored here, and it was unsuited for the small ward he suddenly found himself caring for.
Upon leaning her savior's name, the princess brought her joint hands to her face, to hide her embarrassed blush. But still, the princess did not move from her spot. Her unique eyes darted away from him, and Ik-Soo felt disappointed at the rejection.
The girl offered no words but moved to lay on the floor, with her back to the priest. She curled into a tight ball, pulling the large robe over her like a blanket, as she ignored her rumbling stomach. The princess was silent and seeking solace in her sleep.
Ik-Soo watched the little princess as she curled up on the floor, and tried to disappear from view. It was fate that brought Ik-Soo to the castle that dreadful day. It was the voice of the dragons, which lead him to the small girl's hiding place, and it was the heaven's will that he took the young princess, before she could be killed.
Those same spiritual instincts, are what told Ik-Soo that Princess Yona was not grieving over her family. Death, and its permanence, was something that most children her age did not understand. She was grieving, of that, the priest had no doubt, but it was not for the family she lost. Something else was making her feel alone and sad.
He just didn't know what it was.
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It had been four days since she had joined Ik-Soo's care and still the girl did not speak. She made cute noises, like a newborn kitten, but no words escaped her tongue. She often kept her distance from Ik-Soo, preferring to keep the whole cabin between them.
Sometimes Ik-Soo saw the young girl eying the door, but she never made an attempt to leave. Perhaps, a distance part of her knew that was nothing out there for her.
To pass the days away, Ik-Soo had developed a new game. He was trying to guess the young girl's favorite animal. It had all started when the other day Yona had let out a terrified squeak, upon seeing a young doe in their open doorway. Ik-Soo had giggled quietly while trying in vain to get Yona to approach the gentle creature. Just this morning, Yona had eyed a bunny rabbit on the edge of the woods, but refused to leave the house to go after it.
Now, Ik-Soo was determined to find an animal she was fond of. The young priest often enjoyed woodland strolls and the animals it would bring, and he wanted the young girl to enjoy them too. If Ik-Soo could catch one of her favorite animals, maybe the frightened girl would warm up to him.
"Kitten?" The girl stuck her tongue out.
"Bird?" Her eyes drifted to the window, and her tiny shoulders gave a shrug.
"Snake?" The girl was silent, but Ik-Soo had noticed how she had perked up slightly at the creature. It was an old choice, and not one most girls would like.
"If the princess doesn't tell me, then I might be tempted to bring the doe back."
The threat didn't seem to scare her, but she did give a deep sigh, and she turned back to the young priest. Her shoulders were hunch, and her eyes downcast as if afraid of judgement for her choice. "Dragon."
Ik-Soo had seen painting of the Heavenly Dragons. They were long, vicious creatures with gaping maws and terrible claws. Drool dripped from their fangs, and humans were crushed beneath their scaly paws. They were terrible, feared creatures. Even the kindest dragon, Hiryuu, had been a great opponent in battle. Why would a young princess choose such a creature?
"Has the princess ever seen a dragon?"
The toddler nodded, her wild red hair bouncing with each movement. Her amethyst eyes had a bright glow to it and she finally seemed relaxed. She stretched out her arms as far as they would go, and explained how big her dragons were. She told Ik-Soo how they had shining scales but warm manes.
"I meant a real dragon," Ik-Soo did not mean to sound cruel, but his tone ruined her description of her imaginary dragons.
Instantly, her bright smile crashed. Yona started chewing on her bottom lip, her little teeth tearing into the soft skin. She was glaring at the floor, her bare toes drawing shapes in the dust.
"There's four of them," Yona insisted quietly. "Ouru, Hakyu, Rokyu, and Seryu." Her vocabulary was horrible, but the names were clear enough for Ik-Soo to recognize the titles of the Heavenly Dragons. The only one missing was Hiryuu, the crimson dragon with a gentle compassion and orchid eyes.
Yet he remembered orchid eyes staring at him just moments ago, begging for him to understand. A small human girl, whom the Heavenly dragons insisted he save while the kingdom burned around them. The same red-haired girl who was soft spoken and kind.
Just who was this gentle soul that Ik-Soo had saved?
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Gradually, over time, Yona came closer to the priest. Originally they slept with an empty cabin to separate them. However, every night, Yona would inch closer to the warm fire pit in the center of the hut, the cold nights forcing her to seek heat. Soon, she was sleeping next to the fire, and she didn't care that Ik-Soo was only inches away from her too.
One rough night, after a devastating nightmare, Yona jolted awake with tears streaming from her eyes. Her small fists were clenched together, and resting in front of her lips, in a futile attempt to stifle her cries. Still, Ik-Soo was roused from his sleep by her small cries.
"Momma," she whimpered. "Papa," she cried.
Not for the first time, Yona scooted away from the dying ember in the fire pit, her fearful eyes watching the dancing flames. Ik-Soo peeked an eye open, watching from the other side as she repeated the same ritual. Every three days or so this pattern would happen. Yona would jerk awake, speak several names that meant nothing to him, and scoot away from the warmth of the fire. The young man had suspicions that the princess had a fear of fire and he already knew she couldn't stand the sight of blood. After a few hours she would cry herself asleep again and pretend it didn't happen come morning.
Ik-Soo had watched this happen three times, each time hoping the young girl would seek comfort with him. Yet, she tried her hardest to hide her tears and pain from those around her. A part of him knew how it felt to want to keep the pain to himself, but the larger part, a caring, sensitive part of him, wanted to cry out for her when she hid her pain.
Finally, Ik-Soo could take no more and pushed himself away from the floor.
"Yona?"
A squeak escaped Yona and she bowed her head letting her red hair hide her tears. She didn't want Ik-Soo to see her cry but he found see her tears dripping to the wooden floors. The young priest got to his feet and picked up the thin blanket that Yona had claimed, but left behind in her rush to get away from the fire. Even though Ik-Soo was not a large man, he still towered over the girl when he approached, casting a shadow over her and causing her to shrink in on herself.
With an elegant spin of his arms, Ik-Soo wrapped the blanket around her, completely hiding the girl from view, and drawing her back into his chest. The girl snuggled deeper into the priest's chest, clutching the blanket even tighter around her face. This close to her, Ik-soo could feel her agony and pain. His own heart stuttered in misery, and his eyes welled with sympathy tears.
"If you're wrapped like this, no one can see you cry, not even me. So it's okay to cry." The blonde priest was already crying, his tears falling freely for all the times Yona had refused to grieve.
The priest couldn't see the young girl but he could hear her sobs increasing. He could feel the tremors that racked her body. More importantly, Ik-Soo felt when her hand snaked out and grabbed onto his clothes, holding the priest closer to her in her moment of grief.
That night, Yona grieved for all she had lost and Ik-Soo grieved with her.
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His world was silent for a long time. At first, his body protested at first from the lack of movement. Then it demanded food. Zeno ignored all the commands. His thoughts were in the past, in a time long ago, when Zeno had not been alone. A time when Zeno had protected Hiryuu, to the best of his abilities.
The sound of feet scrapping against his floors brought him out of his daze, and tired blue eyes looked up to see this visitors.
The unnatural blue and green hair revealed who the two were without words. They stood in the doorway of his empty hut, small figures against the backlight of the noon sun. How much time had passed? How long had Zeno been mourning?
He didn't know anymore. Much like what happened after the death of Kaya, the days had blurred as Zeno was adrift in his sea of grief. None of it mattered. It was not like Zeno could die of starvation, sickness, or pain.
The golden dragon blinked slowly, clearing his eyes of the haze that had settled over them. "Jae-Ha?"
The green dragon assessed the sad excuse of the immortal dragon, before giving a grim nod. "Zeno." Besides him, the small toddler clutched a ball to his chest, the mask over his face swinging with his movements as he glanced between Ouryuu and Ryoukyuu. A pair of bells, which hung from the mask's ears, rang with each movement.
It was Jae-Ha who took the first step forward. The Seiryuu hatchling jolted in surprise, and reached a shy hand forward, snagging Jae-Ha's sleeve. He shyly trotted forward, following Jae-Ha like a small blue shadow.
"Hello again Jae-Ha," Zeno greeted cheerfully.
Zeno was already sitting on the floor, but even with his reduced height, he was taller than the toddler with blue hair. The yellow dragon wasn't even surprised by the mask. He had seen something similar, a long time ago. Instead he gave a bright smile, knowing that the boy would see it even with the mask on. Zeno knew he must have looked odd. He had not bathed in a long time, nor had he bothered to change his clothes. His depression had taken time from him, and his disgruntled look, paired with his enthusiastic smile must have been odd.
Indeed, the young boy was fidgeting in front of Zeno's wistful stare, and from his loose fingers, the ball slipped out and rolled towards Zeno. The boy couldn't be a year or two older than Hiryuu would have been. That thought sent a new bolt of pain through him. Despite his age, he was small, and Zeno could see that the boy was underweight too. His soft blue hair was cut short, differing him from Zeno and Jae-Ha, who each had long hair. His clothes were a dark blue, and made to his size. The strangest feature was the large cat mask that dominated half of his face.
The porcelain white mask looked to be crafted from wood. Wide, confused eyes were painted over it, and a pair of bells were tied around the left ear. There were no eye holes, but Zeno knew that he could see everything around him, and more, with ease.
"Lad, what's your name?" Zeno questioned the blue dragon.
"Seiryuu," was the quiet answer.
"Not what dragon," Zeno reached forward and poked one of the painted eyes of the cat. The wide, confused gaze of the mask conveyed the same confusion the boy was displaying. It was an unspoken rule to not name a child after the dragon gods. Some considered it a sin, other considered it bad luck. Zeno thought it was divine interruption that kept it from happening. No matter the reason, no child was named after the dragons. After a few seconds of hesitation, the boy shook his head, the bells echoing his denial.
"He doesn't have a name," Jae-Ha answered for him. Zeno didn't miss how green dragon protectively stepped forward, tugging the toddler back a step so he was tucked into to the teenager's side. The child wasted no time in moving his hand towards Jae-Ha's sleeve once again, anchoring himself to his dragon brother.
"Ryokuryuu is protective of Seiryuu." Zeno stated a simple fact. It seemed unlike the cold Jae-Ha to attach himself to a child.
"Only monsters will care for monsters." Jae-Ha's lips pulled back to reveal a tiny fang, as if sharing a secret joke. Zeno chuckled with ease, which only made Jae-Ha stiffen his stance protectively. Ryokuryuu was always possessive, no matter which lifetime he lived. Shuten had been the same way with Hiryuu, before the dragon brothers had gotten close enough to trust each other. Right now, Jae-Ha had taken the unnamed hatchling into his protection. Zeno leaned forward to pick up the discarded ball and he rolled it towards the child. "Go play," he coaxed. "Zeno must speak with Ryokuryuu."
"Jae-Ha," the teenager corrected coldly.
There was a moment of stillness, before Jae-Ha nudged the boy back towards the open doorway. Having gain permission, the boy reached forward to grab the ball from Zeno and race outside. Once outside, Zeno could hear a repeated tap, tap, tap against his hut's wall.
Zeno turned his full attention to Ryoukyuu, who was gazing at him with disapproving green eyes. Jae-Ha shifted several times, favoring his dragon leg for an unknown reason. Zeno waited, knowing from Jae-Ha's uncomfortable movements, and harsh glare, that he had something to say.
"He was alone. The villagers pretended he didn't exist, and rarely gave him food. I played with him for a few days and got him fish when he was hungry. I learned from the villagers that his mentor died a few months ago." Zeno knew automatically what happened a few months ago. It was when Zeno had failed and when Hiryuu had disappeared, once again.
"He had nowhere to go and no reason to stay."
"So Jae-Ha decided to adopt?" Zeno playfully teased.
"I can't care for a child!" Jae-Ha snapped, not treating the situation as lightly at Zeno. "I'm not done traveling," he explained softly. "I was hoping, you'd take care of him but I see now, you can't even care for yourself."
"Zeno is mourning right now." He knew from the bonds they shared at the other dragons were mourning too, though they did not know why, so they were not as affected. "Zeno normally baths daily, and takes good care of himself."
There was an awful idea forming in his head and an uncomfortable ball of unease was settling deep in Zeno's gut the longer he debated it. It was a horrible idea to get the dragons together again, despite what the bonds that demanded they unite.
Unlike himself, the other dragons would not be blessed to live very long. They would be lucky to reach their fourth decade, cursed to only half a life. It would be agony, for Zeno, to grow attach to a child, who had no hope of living a long life. Even now, just glimpsing the blue hatchling, and seeing Jae-Ha after his escape, was an awful idea.
Once upon a time though, three dragon brothers had defended and protected Zeno when they thought he was weak. They had teased him, sometimes cruelly, but they never left him on his own. Despite the pain it would bring, Zeno could not leave his brothers' on their own, especially know that he knew of their suffering. Before, he could claim ignorance of his brothers' surviving bloodlines, and now that defense was gone.
"Zeno will watch the young Lad," Jae-Ha gave a sigh of relief, "but only for a little bit."
They both knew that the last part was a lie.
Don't let the size of the first chapter fool you, this will be a dabble series. Normally chapters will be between one thousand to four thousand words (which is still decent size but small for me). I just wanted to get the scene setting finished with, all in one chapter.
Also despite the sad beginning, I anticipate the story to be fairly funny, light, and enjoyable.
I have a loose plot line in mind but this will mainly be fueled by reviews, prompts, and the needs of reviewers. I really only wrote this because I've been working on a AkaYona AMV and so these characters were fresh in my mind.
It's something fun to do between my more serious story, Bloody Purity. Also, I really want all the children to interact in their own unique ways. So don't be afraid to give me an idea or ask questions!
Some Questions to be Answered First :
- Will young Yoon be introduced? Maybe. I'm not sure yet. Is there demand?
- Where is Hak and Soo-Won? Well, we'll see! I promise, I didn't kill them.
- Will the dragons meet young Yona? Of course! That's kinda the point of this story.
Anymore questions? Ask away! Or leave a review and try to inspire me. I'll give shout outs to all who do. Also let me know if the idea is a dud. Not all stories are a hit and I know this.
-Nightshade
Editing, as always, is done by myself. Frankly, I'm tired of rereading this so I'm just gonna post it. See something that bugs you? Want to point out a mistake? Go ahead! I'll fix it up and probably thank you.