novelnext Ep 180. Some Things Don’t Need To Be Taught. (2)
Ep 180. Some Things Don’t Need To Be Taught. (2)
Ep 180. Some Things Don’t Need To Be Taught. (2)
Ep 180. Some Things Don’t Need To Be Taught. (2)
A few minutes after stepping away from Serenis and Ardion for their privacy, Bruton awkwardly stared at the two girls at his side.
Eline was practically sprawled flat on the ground. Though she didn’t seem exhausted in a physical sense, her eyes blankly stared at the dimming night sky, as if she couldn’t care less for...well, anything.
Aymeia was sitting on the grass right by the herbalist’s side, hugging her knees as she often seemed to do now. Her thinned eyes occasionally peeked at the dragonlord and the elder dragon in the distance.
And of course, Bruton stood with crossed arms, his discomfort continuing to grow as the silence continued.
“...So...Eline. I didn’t know you were visiting Elder Ardion tonight.”
“I wasn’t. Aether and Ilias called on me.”
“Hm? Did something happen?”
“...Apparently, the elder transformed and knocked down his son.”
“...??? Elder Ardion knocked down Xerun? What for?”
“No clue...all I know is that it strained him a lot.”
“...Huh.”
Bruton pursed his lips, slowing nodding his head. Although the reason remained unclear, he could guess that it had something to do with Xerun being rude to the dragonlord earlier.
Until Aymeia chimed in.
“...The elder was protecting me.”
The remark warranted curious glances from both Bruton and Eline.
But instead of asking further, Eline only gave a chortle from the ground.
“Oh yeah. The elder did say you were a deity...Aymeia,right?”
“Oho? And here I thought she was just another companion of the dragonlord’s.”
“I’m not a deity anymore...”
While Bruton joined Eline in her mirth, Aymeia’s head sank deeper into her knees. Her eyes remained fixed on the two elder dragons in the distance that were too far away to hear.
And, finally, Eline slowly rose to sit upright as she likewise glanced at the elders in the distance.
“...I wonder what they’re talking about?”
“The past, I’d presume...or perhaps the elder’s questioning Lord Serenis like his son was earlier.”
Hearing Bruton’s last comment, Aymeia raised her head slightly to correct the red dragon.
“...He wouldn’t. He knows who Serenis is. He might have trouble remembering, but he knows.”
“Hm?...You sound strangely certain. How would you know that?”
“Because I told him.”
“?? What?”
“...Uh, I mean...”
Shrugging, Aymeia’s head soon returned to its original sunken position.
Admittedly, the memory was a mere fraction of what she once retained. Most had left her, returned to oblivion with their rightful owner.
But in the small bit that yet remained, Ardion’s name still echoed loud and clear.
“Har. Though...I’ve come to think that Lord Vulka had faith, even in his final days.”
“...Faith?”
“Faith that a kin would eventually come to claim the heart. A kin more deserving and suited for the role than he was.”
And finally, Ardion turned his head towards the dragonlord’s.
He couldn’t make out her expression – not with his poor sight and the looming dark.
But the elder didn’t need his eyes to recognize who was standing at his side.
“Of course...I don’t suppose he knew that the first lord herself would return to claim her birthright.”
When Vulka chose to wait for the heart’s successor, it wasn’t Serenis he’d been waiting for.
Though Serenis referred to the entire dragonkin as her children, there were only two she’d truly claimed to be her actual children. And Vulka was one of them.
And, by the time Serenis had reached the world’s summit, the other had already...
“...”
A long silence followed as the two dragons stood side by side, each reminiscing their distant pasts.
Days that would never return,
Days that they could now only speak of in words.
“...There was a time the kin tried to convince Lord Vulka...to inherit the heart and wield its powers himself.”
“And yet he still refused?”
“Har...quite. Successor or not, he would tell us that the heart would only bring about misfortune upon the kin.”
“...What?”
“As much as the Twelve feared the heart’s powers, he would tell us that he could never come to use it as you could...that he would never be able to wield the heart proper, that he could never truly bring the Twelve to heel. That it would only bring about unnecessary blood.”
“...”
“...I’ve come to understand those words now. We were mere children still...a burden to our king, nothing more. To war against the Twelve was to put us all at their mercy.”
A soft sigh escaped Serenis’ lips.
She regretfully gripped at her heart, shutting her eyes in a pained expression.
‘If only...’
If only she’d managed to return home.
If only she’d lived even a single day longer.
...If only she hadn’t remained so stubborn about keeping peace during their era, perhaps she could’ve gifted her children far better lives.
But she hadn’t. None of those things had happened.
Eventually, Serenis’ expression loosened with a sarcastic snort.
‘...If anyone deserves to be called cursed, it’d be me, not you.’
In Serenis’ absence, her son had spent his entire life making amends for her: for things she could no longer do, and for things she’d failed to do.
He’d done everything he could. He’d done more than anything his mother could ever have asked for, keeping their kin safe and sound for centuries.
So, now...
It was her turn to make amends.