Chapter 117

Elise pursed her dry lips. “Gallian betrayed you,” she stated flatly. 

“In the end,” Sameshita murmured, “there was something he loved more than me. Something he valued more highly… Elizabeth, he craved a family.”

Family. It was an unexpected wrinkle in the narrative. This, too, was a story absent from the myths.

“Perhaps that’s when my other disciples began coupling up,” Sameshita mused. “The child, he was so terribly lonely by my side.”

A beat of silence followed.

“He yearned to marry a human woman, to have children, and to build a happy family of his own,” Sameshita explained. “He even envisioned raising my child. He held a genuine fondness for the young ones, finding their helplessness endearing.” 

“But his ambitions went further,” Sameshita added. “He’d always possessed the temperament of a man driven by ambition, even as a boy. He desired his own country.”

Sameshita’s voice grew laced with a chilling anger. “But I couldn’t fathom it. Why did we need this third presence intruding upon our bond? I had sacrificed my freedom to possess him. Why would he seek another human when he had me?” 

“So I made him an offer,” Sameshita continued, voice cold. “If that’s what you desire, I will grant you the use of my womb to bear a child. But be warned, if you allow even a sliver of your affection to stray towards this offspring, I will terminate it without a moment’s hesitation. It would be nothing more than a meaningless impurity to both of us.”

A sudden wave of eeriness washed over Elise. She looked down at the back of her hand, a prickling sensation spreading from her arm to her wrist.

The cruelty in her words regarding the child’s existence, the obsessive possessiveness… it sent shivers down her spine.

Sameshita’s monotonous narration continued. “After a heated argument, Gallian left me for a significant period. He requested time, and naturally, I believed he’d shed his pointless regrets and dedicate himself solely to being my disciple. Little did I know, Elise, that within those three fleeting months, he’d made love to a human woman, planting a seed within her womb.”

“As I warned, I purged all impurities,” Sameshita continued, her voice regaining its cold composure. “And for a brief period, we were perfect once more. Yet, as it turned out, the fault lay entirely with me after Gallian abandoned me forever.”

A chill snaked down Elise’s spine. The dragon before her grew visibly more emotional, a well of ancient anger resurfacing.

“Lucia and Septimion stood by my side,” the dragon rumbled. “I shouldn’t have acted that way towards a man who safeguarded both my family and myself. But Inashio and Hugo were a different story. They believed I’d made a grave error. They couldn’t comprehend my actions, the audacity! As if I ever asked for their understanding, a ridiculous notion.”

“However,” Sameshita conceded, “the issue was so perplexing that even humans harbored conflicting opinions. But, Elise, in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him. The hatred indeed burned strong, enough to fuel the desire to end him. Even with the undeniable truth that human life was as fragile as a blade of grass, I couldn’t take his.”

“What he offered in exchange for my devotion was a seal that reeked of a trap, and the absurdity lies in the fact that the moment I witnessed his tear-streaked face, I was ready to plunge into the very hell he’d prepared for me.”

“With my own hands, I have shattered his world, yet a single tear I cannot shed.”

And with that resolute declaration, the dragon chose to walk into the seal.

“Consumed by rage, I can find no solace. Sleep, then, shall be my refuge. May oblivion quell this burning fire, and may the sting of these cruel memories fade with time. Let me slumber long, trusting the gods to untangle this mess. That was my vow,” she murmured to herself.

“…So, did it work?” Elise’s voice broke the silence. “Did you forget Gallian?”

The woman with clear, transparent eyes met Elise’s question with a dry laugh. “If I had, child, wouldn’t my presence here contradict that very notion? Dragons, Elise, are creatures who’ve spurned the oblivion of death. The gods haven’t spared me this gnawing pain.”

“But I… I’m not the one you loved,” Elise stammered, her voice trembling. “I have nothing to offer you. Why are you here? I’m not the only descendant, am I?”

“Of course, the boy I loved is but a memory, Elise. Time claims all things eventually. Perhaps he too returned to the earth, reborn anew. This time, with no recollection of his past life, a different face, a different name.”

Elise’s breath hitched. “Are you suggesting it’s me?”

You think I’m Gallian reincarnated? That’s absurd! If that were true, I’d rather be Andrei. I am a simpleton, incapable of even basic magic.

“The power bestowed upon him was immense, beyond the capacity of a human vessel. It was too much to bear. But yes, you might not be the reincarnation… perhaps just a testament to his betrayal…” Sameshita’s voice trailed off into an incomprehensible murmur. Her gentle brown eyes flickered, replaced by piercing yellow orbs tinged with blue, that locked onto Elise with unnerving intensity.

“Seven hundred years of regret gnaw at me, Elise. Back then, I should have ended him myself. Ivetsa’s eyes, clouded with a maelstrom of old love and hate, greed and remorse, glared at Elise. The yellow orbs, still seeming to ooze pus, held a piercing intensity. “I should have erased his existence utterly, rendering him incapable of rebirth on this earth. That was the only way to sever this torment. I missed that eternal chance.”

Did the dragon seek revenge on Gallian through her, a vengeance it couldn’t complete centuries ago? Was killing her a means to finally be free from its agonizing chains?

“So, I contemplate. To kill you, Elise, or to watch over you,” the dragon rumbled.

No, a deeper truth lurked beneath the surface. This wasn’t mere intimidation. It was a fiery torrent of resentment, desperate to lash out at someone who bore a faint resemblance to the one lost forever.

Centuries of torment hadn’t dulled the dragon’s memory. It clung to a single human, a love neither understood nor returned. This was the heart of its madness, a dragon forever lost, wandering in a labyrinth of unrequited love.

“…I see,” Elise whispered, a faint smile gracing her lips. The dragon, seeing a ghost of his beloved in the curve of her smile, froze, captivated. For a moment, the torrent of words ceased, replaced by a profound silence as the dragon locked its gaze on Elise.

A long silence stretched between them. Finally, the dragon rasped, “In one way, I’m curious… Did Gallian, back then, have eyes like yours, devoid of regret?”

It was a question as futile as its lingering regrets. Elise simply confirmed what she already knew. Sameshita couldn’t kill her, a descendant of Gallian. Even if Gallian were to be reborn and betray her again, the answer was never.

This realization dawned on them both simultaneously, bringing their conversation to a lull. The dragon fell silent, and Elise, her eyelids heavy, closed them. A wave of relief, laced with a touch of the absurd, washed over her.

“Rezette,” she whispered, a hint of gratitude coloring her voice, “how fortunate that you don’t love me in such a way… a way as twisted and wretched as that creature loved.”

***

The ten-day carriage journey from Koseratie to Norella on the eastern coast was, Elise could confidently say, the worst experience of her life. It even surpassed the ordeal of being transported to the capital of Van Yela while gravely ill, where she’d inflicted repeated harm upon herself.

At first, she’d dismissed it as mere motion sickness. But the relentless vomiting, triggered even by the familiar scent of water, hinted at something far worse. Her stomach churned, her head spun, and her strength dwindled with each passing day. Frustration gnawed at her. This wasn’t the first time her frail body had betrayed her, and the thought of yet another doctor’s visit filled her with dread.

Elise leaned her head against the partially opened window. A frigid wind whipped through the crack, carrying tiny snowflakes that tickled her nose. Leaving Rotiara behind as they journeyed east, it seemed the season was hurtling towards the peak of winter. The harsh bite of the air confirmed the tales of the North as a land of relentless cold.

Thankfully, relief was on the horizon. Not only would they reach the Norella border soon, but two days prior to their departure from Koseratie, a homing pigeon had arrived—a bearer of good news.

Elise discreetly tucked the pigeon into her cloak. A small note, secured to the bird’s leg, revealed a cryptic message: “Norella, Ricardo’s Mast. -Bani.” Once she confirmed the contents, the note vanished in a burst of flame.

Relief washed over her, a weight lifted from her chest. Bani was a nickname Andrei often used for Barnon. While the meaning of “Ricardo’s Mast” remained unclear, it likely referred to a coded meeting place.

One thought bloomed in her mind: Barnon is in Norella. Hope, like a fragile flower, began to push through the cracks of despair.

A few hours later, the carriage emerged from the snowstorm, revealing the gray city walls of Norella adorned with glowing orange lanterns. Beyond, the winter sea stretched endlessly, whitecaps crashing against the shore. The scene possessed a fairytale-like beauty, yet reality held a harsher edge.

At the city gate, a long line of people snaked towards the entrance.

“What’s going on? Why is the line so long?” Elise asked, peeking through the window.

“There’s a checkpoint,” Luisa replied curtly.

“A checkpoint…?” Elise’s brow furrowed. 

“It’s usually not this strict. Something must be happening inside. I’ll go find out.”

A shiver, not entirely from the cold, ran down Elise’s spine. She straightened her back and pulled her hood tighter. Luisa returned swiftly from the gate.

“They’re searching for someone,” she announced. “A woman. A pregnant woman with silver hair and golden eyes. Apparently, they’ve been checking everyone entering and leaving Norella for the past two days.”