Cries of Salvation (BL)

"No… poor dragon."

The younger girl cried out, her tiny heart swelling in hurt, as she gripped the ends of her grandmother's sleeve.

"They didn't even do anything and were killed!" the elder one chimed in with indignation, fists balled up as though she could fight the injustice herself.

Witnessing this scene, the old woman could only murmur a fond laugh, entertained by their passionate reactions. Then, she gently tapped their little shoulders to calm them down, revealing her hands, weathered by time.

"Hold on," she said, "this is where the dragon's revenge begins."

…

Before the ministers could celebrate their small victory, the dragon's cold, lifeless body was suddenly seized by unseen energy. It rose anew as if waking from a long slumber. But no longer as a single two-headed beast.

Now, standing in its place were two distinct dragons, one cloaked in blazing crimson, the other in shimmering blue, each born of betrayal and fury.

The ministers, frozen in place, watched in stunned awe.

They had only fabricated the lie of the dragons separating to manipulate the queen, never expecting their deception to materialize into reality. Yet now, before their very eyes, it had come true.

Meanwhile, the king's heart was filled with renewed joy at the sight.

Tears welled in his eyes as he stepped forward, arms outstretched, eager to embrace his beloved companions once more–only for the twin dragons to slash him to death for his horrid betrayal.

That was only the beginning.

The fury-laden creatures turned upon the kingdom, their roars thundering like judgment. Blazing fire consumed towers. Tidal waves drowned villages. Rain poured endlessly from skies darkened by ash.

They reduced what was once a land of prosperity into a wasteland of charred stone and flooded earth, showing no mercy as they swept across the land, destroying all they saw.

Even with the famed golden eyes of the Hwarin, not a single soul had foreseen such a calamitous future. It was as if all their fortunes had been drained through a crack in the world.

And that was how the Hwarin, once the most powerful beings known to mankind, fell from divine rulers to the poorest of the poor, their legacy washed away in fire and water.

"That's odd."

The siblings grumbled in confusion, their lips pursed as they looked around the room, where the flickering shadows from paper lanterns danced along the wooden floor.

"If all the land were already destroyed to dust, how come there's so much greenery around us?"

"Silly girl."

The old woman tittered, fully admiring the innocence of a child. She reached out to brush their hair and continued, her voice warm.

"It may take as long as eternity, but everything finds a way to heal. This was how the ruins and chaos slowly gave way to blossoms and green, as the land softened its wounds. Little by little, life returned, spreading across the earth like it had never left. Nature carries memory, but it also knows how to begin again."

Haon, who had been engrossed in the tale of the old woman, suddenly flinched in surprise when he felt a presence creeping in.

"Can I have some of your roasted chicken? You don't seem to be eating it at all. Don't you like it?"

Esei sang with a beautiful cadence, her hand already hovering above the food like a thief.

"Please, have some. I doubt I'll be able to finish it on my own."

Haon replied with his usual gentleness, nudging his plate toward Esei, to which she happily plucked a portion of the chicken with her chopsticks. She hummed in delight as she claimed her prize.

"Grandma, what happened to the dragons? Did they also perish at the end?"

The siblings chorused again with voices full of concern, successfully drawing Haon's attention once more.

"Hmm… I won't say they perished. No," the old woman informed, her words now dripping with gravity. "They are still suffering to this day."

"But why? Why do they suffer?"

"For the sins of killing their master, of course."

"But didn't the king betray them first?"

"Whatever the case, my dear, the truth remains that the dragons severed their loyalty to the master they pledged to protect. Their punishment was sealed the moment they made that choice to retaliate."

"That's so unfair." The small girl pouted, lower lip jutting out as she hugged her knees. Still, her curiosity returned almost instantly, brightening her face again.

"So what happened to them afterwards? Where do they live now?"

The old woman exhaled a breath that felt older than the words she was about to speak. Her eyes turned distant, as if searching through layers of forgotten memories, trying to recall where she had last left off the story.

"Let's see…"

…

After watching the kingdom of Mir burn down into cinders, the anger clouding the dragons' vision gradually subsided, thinning like smoke after a long storm.

Their roars faded into silence, and they finally came back to their senses, though the shadow of their rage smouldered like soot in their hearts.

The level of ruin as they soared through the copper-orange hue of the dusty sky was one of great devastation.

Everything beneath them lay shattered; cities reduced to skeletons, forests singed into ash, and temples crumbled to stone heaps.

The air still shimmered with heat, and not a single sign of life stirred across the scorched land, save for the two dragons, alone in a world they themselves had undone.

Faced with this grim reality, guilt swept over them like a tidal wave, dousing them whole. It wasn't just sorrow that filled their chests, but the deep knowing that they had broken something sacred.

In severing their precious bond with the master they once loved, they had brought upon themselves a cruel curse.

This curse was not immediate, but slow and merciless–an invisible chain that would eat at their very being for however long they lived.

It would twist into their blood and scales, and ultimately be passed onto generations to come, like a shadow never shaken off.

The red and blue dragons parted ways after their reign of terror, silent and solemn. Wordlessly, they flew far from each other, each seeking a place that could soothe their wounded essence.

The red dragon, weary and scorched from wrath, gravitated toward molten canyons and sun-seared mountains, where fire danced and the earth bled heat.

And so, the kingdom of Tsubiron was born, founded upon the bones of volcanoes, its heart forged in flame.

Meanwhile, the icy blue dragon wandered across the endless sky in search of reprieve. It finally settled in a realm surrounded by water and mist, where lakes stretched for miles and rivers wove through stone.

There, it shaped the tranquil kingdom of Risaehen, a place of serenity and cool, ceaseless rain.

"But what does the curse do, Grandma?" the toothless child suddenly interrupted, clutching her woollen rabbit-doll to her chest with innocent concern.

"I don't know for sure, my dear. I've heard lots of variations," the old woman truthfully confided. "But from what I can gather, it's said that the curse brings unbearable pain, like fire under the skin and frost in the bones, all over their bodies."

"Oh no! Will they live like that for the rest of their lives?"

"Sadly, yes," the grandmother nodded with a sorrowful smile. "But fret not for them. Even with their curse, they are strong-willed creatures. They are not like us. They are mystical, born of magic and sky, and they have the power to endure what no mortal could."

"Hmm…isn't that supp-"

"Let's go, Haon. Granny Mihum must be getting worried about you."

Esei's tired voice came through, abruptly breaking the spell of the old tale.

Haon realised that he had been spaced out for a while. If not for the mention of his own grandmother, he would have still been lost in the story.

"All right. It is getting kind of late," he agreed, reaching for the table to guide himself to his feet. And after paying for their meal, the two stepped out into the dead of night.