Four lights, his true brothers he had never met. Blue was closest, Yellow was faint but as steady as ever. What was irritating was the two Green lights, as the rate at which one grew brighter and one grew dimmer was irritatingly slow. It made Hakuryuu anxious to think Hiryuu would have to deal with two Ryokuryuu at partial strength instead of served by one with the full power of the dragon's foot.
A white light appeared.
It was a fine spring morning, cloudless and cool, dew still hanging on the fresh greenery. It would have been a perfect day for Hiryuu to approach the village, the light making his red locks shimmer as he would breath in the mountain air, a brief moment of peace before heading off into battle with Lord Hakuryuu at his side.
Any day would have been the perfect day for him to arrive, but now Lord Hakuryuu would never be the one to leave with him. The will of the gods fled him immediately, and it felt as though it left a pin prick in his dragon hand from which his power had already begun to leak out.
Apparently, his fourth wife was the first to bear him a son.
Lord Hakuryuu shared blood ties with everyone in the village, directly or indirectly. Each new Hakuryuu ensured a new generation with clear inheritance of the prized blood, and Lord Hakuryuu had already contributed three daughters to the collective mix, but instead of addressing him as their father and whining for his affection, they instead beamed with pride to tend to any of his needs. They held the same rank of any of his many half-siblings and cousins, or any of the villagers who carried the blood of the original Hakuryuu and the thousands of Hakuryuu since.
It made them darling, but laughable. Proud though they were of the blood they shared, human blood ran thin. None of these villagers were his true siblings, the lights he watched from afar and waited with in spirit. Lord Hakuryuu appreciated and humored them, knowing their ties would meaning nothing the moment Hiryuu arrived and he'd leave the village.
Or rather, if only he had arrived.
Most of the village had not yet woken up, but his youngest and prettiest wife's villa was bustling with joy and hushed excitement over of the birth of his son, as it was still too early in the day to make a grand proclamation. Like when his daughters were born, the midwives were still cooing and overjoyed, and Granny was brimming with pride, and the new mother smiled and announced the healthy child to Lord Hakuryuu when he visited. This time, the midwives were louder, and Granny's smile was even wider, and his wife beamed brighter than any other. Lord Hakuryuu went through the same motions, but his feet felt like lead and he felt an odd distance from everything happening, as if it were a dream. Only his right hand felt like it was there in the birthing hut, throbbing with the dragon blood and itching with recognition of the white light before it.
"This is your son, Lord Hakuryuu," she said with her head up high. "His name is Kija." Like any of the village girls, she grew up fantasizing about bearing the new Hakuryuu and having naming rights, and she had long since chosen a name strong enough to suit a holy warrior. Though she never said a word of it, she felt certain through the entire pregnancy that she would bear a son finer than any of Lord Hakuryuu's daughters, and the smugness showed on her face. She turned the sleeping baby so that Lord Hakuryuu could see his face.
Lord Hakuryuu cried out in anguish and slashed his claws across both mother and child, cursing the heavens for abandoning him in the form of his own offspring. Their fragile bodies made no resistance at the force of his power and snapped apart.
In his head, he screamed and tore them apart over and over and over, but the hot dragon claws stayed limp at his side. "Kija. I see."
"Take a look at your son, Lord Hakuryuu," added Granny, nodding as the young mother to unswaddle him. "He has inherited the Dragon Blood!"
His stomach turned at the sight of the little white hand, and he recoiled. The others did not notice as Kija's mother winced, and Granny and the midwives fussed at her side, assuring her that her after-birth pains were normal. "Lord Hakuryuu, why don't you hold your son while we tend to her?"
"Yes, Lord Hakuryuu, embrace your son!"
"I am afraid to drop him," he lied, holding his arm in response to the throbbing. "The baby must be tired, leave him in the cradle. I will keep an eye on him."
They tended to his wife and the women's chatty voices filled the air; more and more morning light shot through the window shades. Lord Hakuryuu stood at the side of the room gazing down at the infant lying on his stomach, though his mind still felt distanced from his surroundings. In some part of his mind he knew the midwife was foolish to lie him on his tummy instead of his back, and it would be simple to fix, but he did not care to. Where was Hiryuu, and what was he doing? Lounging on his back or his stomach out in the sunlit woods of the mountain, sure to arrive at any moment?
Hiryuu would not come in his lifetime. A new Hakuryuu did instead. The slumbering newborn had stolen heaven's will and would soon steal his life.
His mind whirled, the baby's face appeared as if through a tunnel, but the throbbing and heat grounded him to the moment. Though he interpreted the pain as his hand's wish to eliminate the threat, he reminded himself of his duty to raise the next successor. Curiosity, as well as some frustration, drove him to touch his lightest fingertips to the baby's back, rising and falling with each breath. Babies were something to be gentle with, but the itch was hot.
He arched his fingers, and his nails punctured flesh so effortlessly that it was cathartic, even as the baby screamed. Time slowed as he dragged his fingers lightly through the skin, following the contours of his frame and bumping over the bones of his spine. Granny's voice and the wails of the ladies soon melted together with Kija's shrill scream, but they were no louder than the cries of sorrow within his own head.
The catharsis ended as he was dragged to the floor by midwifes not fearing personal safety or decorum, and his young wife dived to the cradle to cover her son. She and Granny screamed more at the sight of the blood, guards charged in at the sound and then rushed mother and child to safety. Kija gasped a quick breath before another wail, but the door shut him out of view before any sound came out.
The village was in a state of shock as they heard the news, too overwhelmed to feel anger towards their previously beloved Lord Hakuryuu and worried powerless over the injury the holy infant had suffered. Voices were hushed. Hakuryuu still sensed the bright white light.
"Lord Hakuryuu? I'm coming in."
Granny never announced herself before. She wanted not to startle him, and could not read any of his thoughts when he turned to face her. As astounded as she was at his actions, she was relieved that he had not harmed himself while he had been locked in his house all day. She opened her mouth several times to speak, but could not chose what words to say.
"Kija's condition?"
"Alive, barely," she huffed.
"It was merely a scratch."
"The hand of Hakuryuu does not leave a mere scratch! It's too soon to tell if the boy will even be able to walk someday."
"He has the will of the heavens now. Nothing will stop him from serving his master."
"Not even the blessing of the heavens will heal those wounds. And what can we do, even, to protect him from the previous Hakuryuu himself? Would you have torn him to pieces if he was not your son?"
"What difference would that have made? Familial blood runs only so thick. In this whole village, you're the only one who treats me as anything like family, Granny."
"But you have your wives and your daughters!"
"I love them. They're dear to me, as dear to me as anyone else in this village. But Granny, none of you can see the lights. None of you can hear the voices."
"Voices?" she quivered, astounded that she had not noticed his mental state. Where had she gone wrong? She stepped forward and cradled his head against her. "Lord Hakuryuu, since when have you been hearing voices?"
"I'm not crazy. The previous Hakuryuu heard them as well. They're what kept him at the window all night keeping a watchful eye out for our master. I'm sure my dragon brothers feel it as well, this chill, this weight... ah, Granny! I wish I could have met them!"
"Shush! Don't talk like that! It's not your time yet!"
"We both know its on its way now. Unlike Ryokuryuu, I'd rather get on with it. But I suppose I must stick around at least until the boy can talk."
"Lord Hakuryuu!"
"There's so much to tell him. Granny, bring me my son. I'll tell him about the lights first, and that will comfort him."
Her frail arms slid to her sides as she backed away. "I cannot do that."
"No, I suppose you can't," he answered, looking down to the dried blood on his nails. "I don't know what came over me, Granny. I should have been overjoyed. I may never meet my brothers, but my own son shares the blood of the white dragon with me. Who in this world could understand me more deeply?"
"You can always tell me anything, Lord Hakuryuu. No matter what, I will always be here for you."
He sighed flatly. Grateful though he was for all her unrelenting care, he could never etch his sadness into her, nor fill her with the pride of a warrior and the fear of unfulfilled duty. It was her own sense of pride and fear that stood between him and the new Hakuryuu. "Thank you, Granny. I'm alright. I know you're anxious about the baby, you may go. I'll wait until he's recovered."
"You shall wait until he is ready."
"A Hakuryuu is born ready."
"You're anxious too, Lord Hakuryuu. It's alright, you still have plenty of time left to fulfill your duty of passing on the role of the white dragon. Don't worry, I will help you when it's time to tell him about the dragon blood. Relax, my Lord. Granny will take care of everything." The way she fumbled her lips as she spoke made it seem more as if she were trying to assure herself that she could care for two damaged dragons.
She assured the villagers of the same, and they all took the road of sensitivity towards their former master and quiet protectiveness over their new one. Kija made steady progress in his recovery, and it was not long before he was crawling and scratching up all the floors and walls, and putting up a good fight whenever anyone tried to take away choking hazards he found. His hearty scream of anger when his caretakers finally won assured them all that he would grow into a fine warrior. Lord Hakuryuu could hear those screams from his house, but could not picture the little face that went with them.
His wives and daughters had become shy of him, wary of his mental state, and without complaint, he let their visits cease. Although he did wish to explain himself to Kija's mother, she refused, and was more adamant than anyone else he should never see Kija. Her health declined more rapidly than did Lord Hakuryuu's, but to the end, she always beamed in her son's presence. Lord Hakuryuu regretted the affect his actions had on her, but it washed over him like all the ginger treatment he received for the rest of his life. They had always been at arm's distance. Ironically, the distance grew the weaker his arm became.
What had started like a pin prick soon felt like water squeezed through a cheesecloth, the itching and throbbing came and went with his moods. In his moments of despair, he no longer craved blood on claws. Granny watched his spirit fade.
"Granny, I know better. Please, let me see my son. He knows my sadness."
"He's but a small child, Lord Hakuryuu. You must be patient."
"I insist, Granny."
Her insistence was greater, and Lord Hakuryuu was losing any will to put up a fight.
After his young wife passed, he was allowed one meeting to explain the dragon blood to Kija. By then, the precocious boy had heard most of what he needed from the villagers, but dutifully soaked up whatever Lord Hakuryuu would tell him. Though was firmly grounded, it seemed as though he was propelled forward by hundreds of white dragons. Under Granny and the guards' watchful stares, Lord Hakuryuu had to keep his distance. This was not the meeting he had in mind. He was only able to speak the words of a predecessor here, not a father.
Not as family.
As soon as he had said what Granny had made him agree to, their meeting ended, and the one person he felt closest to-that growing white light-was escorted out of his sight.
The blood has long since washed off, and the young dragon might now have easily bested the former in a test of strength, but one brash decision continued to keep them apart. The itchy and throbbing subsided rapidly, and Lord Hakuryuu spent more time confined to his bed. His head spun and his stomach could not be trusted as his power pulsates in gushes out of his hand, but the lights remained a comfort. Two Blue lights had nearly exchanged brightness, Green was as slow and steady as ever. Yellow remained shadowed but consistent. It was likely his mind playing tricks on him to comfort him in his weakness, but he indulged in thinking that the world now had a red glow.
Maybe if the bright white light would engulf him, he could find some peace at last.
Or maybe he could live on inside of it. Maybe he would linger on in that mark of sadness.