Page 442
Story: The Dragon of Dreams
Late Evening - Late Winter - Year 24 : Ampelos | Bahamut
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*Tap* Gently closing the journal, the frost still stubbornly lingering on my fingertips, I leaned back into the deep embrace of the chair, watching the cover glimmer as I turned it over in my hand, hoping the mythril threads might weave together thoughts with the wind of the storm in my mind. -A revelation...-
Across from me, Aeolos sat stiff as stone, his fingers locked so tightly his knuckles turned white, and his wide, desperate eyes clinging to me like I was his salvation.
But I wasn't sure I had anything to offer, and for a long while, no words surfaced between us—the thought of speech drowned by the multiplication of thoughts in our minds
But eventually I caught something.. a loose string on a masterfully crafted blanket. "Your father," I murmured. "When did he start to change? Was it sudden or did he fade.. like your sister?"
Unsure where the question came from, Aeolos flinched—his lips parting, but hesitating before he could get words out.
"It was.. gradual..." His voice was hoarse.
"At first he seemed distracted—maybe tired.
. but then it turned restless..." His voice broke slightly, stirring memories sealed with dust. "I thought it was related to work. .."
'Father... I understand...'
The final words of the journal echoed through my mind as I finally lifted my gaze to meet his. "Did he ever look.. afraid?"
His eyes widened instantly—something primal finally stirring beneath his exhaustion. "Y-yeah..." He rasped. "He did."
"And I assume it started before the rebellion?"
Shaking his head, he answered with a shiver. "It was during it.. I-I think..." He spoke without certainty, his eyes jumping around as if doubting his own memories.
But it was enough.
-I see...- Finding my eyes drifting back down to the book, the final words continued to echo. -He saw it too.. whatever it was...-
Although I lacked hard evidence, it felt like a pattern. Obsession, fear, and defection were not isolated accidents.
They were symptoms of a vision and the result of a cure.
A purposefully manufactured short circuit...
After falling silent for a moment, I continued to press him with questions, some seemingly unrelated, in an attempt to weave a string from stray threads.
And just as I suspected, a familiar story unfolded: his father had been a man of solid faith once, resolute in Bahamut’s teachings—a lawful, well-respected researcher. But one day, that all changed—his mind was overtaken by an inescapable anxiety, and his world was infected by fear.
Until eventually, a solution presented itself, one that required he destroy his family, his allegiance, and his life, before infecting his daughter with the very same sickness...
Whoever was behind this wasn't convincing dragons to defect.. they were merely showing them something worse than betrayal, a horror profound enough that survival became an act of sacrilege, before offering a solution.
To 'ignite the sky'.
*Flick* Gently tapping the edge of the journal against my palm, I let the silence drag a moment longer, the tension weighing heavy on Aeolos’s fraying nerves before finally letting out a gentle, but scorching breath that turned the frost on my gloves to mist. "Haah.
.." -Looks like this is a more complicated matter than a few stray lunatics. ..-
Rising smoothly to my feet, I finally tucked the journal into the inner fold of my coat before looking at Aeolos, still fidgeting to wrangle his anxiety.
-I wonder why he was never shown what his sister saw...- "The insignia within the cover: the star encased in iron. Do you know where it's from?"
"I-I'm.. not certain..." He stammered, following my movement with the tension of a mouse spotted by a hawk. "It only started appearing recently, to my knowledge—tied to some new, niche research related to ore."
"Hm..." My gaze momentarily drifted to the scattered letters before him—the quiet desperation in them bringing forth a flicker of pity. "If you can find a way to send a letter through one of those associated researchers, you may be able to reach your sister."
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Hope instantly flickered in his eyes.
"If you can manage to bring her back, I can guarantee her a position in the limelight of Bahamut's future.
. however, understand this clearly..." Thinking back to the 'gift' I left on the Styx's Fang, my tone stiffened.
"If she truly is aligned with the Holy Kingdom, and you fail to convince her. . she will not survive what is coming."
The subtle chill curling off my tongue made him stiffen instinctively, clamming up before his hope could turn reckless.
But it was necessary for him to understand.
Eventually wrapping up our talk with a handful of platinum and a medallion to ensure his messages reached Hera, I left the pale warmth of his study with the authoritative stride of a warden, swiftly stepping back into the brisk night air and exiting the courtyard—whispers echoingj from the hall like rumors yet to spread.
But none of them concerned me.
Finally returning to the city, thoughts from the journal still echoing fresh in my mind, I expanded my aura and looked through everything, down every alley and in every building in hopes of finding another lead—a thread as thin as a mention of the insignia...
Something to tie together the string I was making.
Yet my search bore no fruit. -What a pain...-
Eventually deciding to simply meet back up with Hera and Krystallo to reconvene, I started making my way toward the Spathi estate, idly scanning the bags and luggage of those I passed in hopes of finding something.
But that was when I passed Chioni's study, the place she first brought us after bumping into each other at the Tower, still empty—nothing moved.
Having gotten frustrated with my lack of leads, I started reading through the letters and papers inside to pass time.
But that was when I found it—a glimmer of iron in a sea of snow.
It was a letter from her brother, filled with words of worry about Chioni's recent endeavors and discouragement regarding her interest in investigating the source of the snowstorm, all sealed with the familiar imprint of an iron-encased star.
To her, it was likely nothing more than brotherly worry, the worries of someone who cares deeply yet lacks understanding.
However for me, it didnt sound naive at all... It sounded informed...
Almost like.. he knew...
My eyes glowed instantly. It was the string I was looking for, a connected line that pointed me in a direction like a compass. -How perfect...-
But with her not in the city, it would have to wait.
Getting interrupted by Hera caressing my aura with hers, I looked to find her ending her private conversation in the Spathi estate, and set my lead aside for a moment, continuing my brisk walk through the city to meet her at the gates.
I had a lot I wanted to discuss, and by the looks of things, so did she.
But I had to shift gears before we could discuss anything. -To think they'd send her out with an escort...-
Stepping out from beneath the warm glow of the enchanted lanterns in the courtyard, Hera and Krystallo wore polite smiles, perfectly adjusted masks for the bright, wealthy atmosphere while being watched.
By the looks of things, the escort walking with them was an eye—a judge scrutinizing every movement they made while upholding the facade of professionalism and formality.
But of course, Hera wasn't so skilless that someone of his stature could see through her veil. "Sorry to keep you waiting, honey." The moment she spotted me, warmth returned to her, and her raised posture visibly eased—so convincingly even I couldn't tell if it was an act.
"Was the event pleasing?" Gently taking her hand with a refreshed smile, I turned toward the man. "I hope you aren't escorting these fine ladies out because they caused trouble."
The man, giving the sword on my hip a momentary glance, instantly lightened with a hardy chuckle. "Hoho~, of course not. We simply wished to ensure your family received appropriate courtesy."
"Hm.. is that so?" Finally looking down at Krystallo with a quiet amusement, I found her standing with an elegant poise I didn't know she had, carrying the air of a noble heiress without a trace of her usual childishness—mature and refined.
For a moment, it was unsettling. Her innocence and youth buried so deep even I had trouble finding it. But, upon catching my stare, it reappeared with a gentle, almost signal-like flicker. -She really is concerningly good at that...-
"Indeed," the older gentleman was quick to reassure, nodding respectfully, though never pulling his focus off the sword. "Your family has made quite the impression. Lord Alexandros was especially pleased."
"I'm glad." Returning his nod, I was quick to soften my expression, playing into the husbandly role I found myself in before shooing him away. "In any case, it's already almost morning. We shouldn't burden you any longer."
With an overly polite bow, he swiftly stepped back. "Of course. May Bahamut guide you safely through the storm. Please do visit again."
As he withdrew, my gaze instantly flicked upward toward an illuminated window where a man stood silhouetted, watching us intently. -What a predatory man...- Gently curling my hand around Hera's waist, I motioned her back, upholding the act with a smile. "Now, where to?"
Doing the same, she played shy before responding somewhat cheekily, slipping her arm around mine. "How about the inn?"
"Any sweets on the way back?"
Krystallo nodded fervently.
And without further delay, we left through the gates and blended into the crowd, returning to in after shaking the watchful eyes, hoping to alleviate the thoughts weighing on our minds with chatter over drinks.
But.. the longer we talked, the more bitter those warm drinks became...
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