It was a very small child.
Pale skin.
A gaunt, emaciated body.
Even though I had no particular interest in human lives, I quickly realized.
This child’s time was running out.
The clothes were worn and torn, ragged, and the body was covered with dirt and scratches.
But most of all—
The child’s eyes were completely lifeless.
No sadness, no anger.
Nothing at all, just empty eyes.
I stared quietly into the child’s eyes.
“Ah, the child blinked.”
Long ago, humans used to say that blinking was a sign of life.
I wonder if that’s still true…
I paused for a moment, folding my arms as I thought.
The signs of life in humans…
What else was there?
Breathing,
The heartbeat…
But,
Did humans have one heart or two?
I took my time retracing my thoughts before deciding to let it go.
For dragons, there is no forgetting.
Memories don’t fade.
Maybe that’s why,
After living for countless eons, even my own memories have become so full of meaningless details that it often takes me a while to recall them.
Like dusty bookshelves,
Like a library of unorganized books,
Things that, though not forgotten, are buried so deep I sometimes mistake them for being forgotten.
Memories that take a long time to surface above consciousness.
When there’s no value in retrieving them, I just leave them alone.
Just like now.
I slowly approached the child.
Even as I drew closer, the child did not react.
There was no fleeing,
No caution,
No begging.
The child just sat there quietly.
I leaned down to check the child’s breathing.
“…The child is still breathing.”
Then, they must still be alive.
I spoke to the child, looking into their eyes.
“What are you doing here?”
No answer.
No response.
Only the small, dry breaths could be heard.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
“……”
“Where are your parents?”
“……”
“Are you alive?”
Silence lingered.
Is the child even listening to me?
I sighed and sat quietly beside the child.
‘Eventually, they will answer.’
I didn’t speak any more words.
I simply sat still.
Wasting time was one of my specialties.
‘…The sun’s gone down.’
The ruins had grown dark without me noticing.
At least the sun helped to mark the passage of time.
If not,
I would have just sat there aimlessly.
‘Are you still alive?’
I turned to look at the child, who had been forgotten for a moment.
The child had not moved.
They hadn’t left their seat, nor answered late.
They were just like when I first saw them.
In the same posture,
With the same expression,
Only their breath remained.
I muttered absently.
“Don’t humans usually go inside when it gets dark?”
“……”
“Won’t you go inside?”
Once again, only silence returned.
I watched the child closely.
Still, there was no movement.
The empty eyes were now fixed not on me, but on the darkening horizon.
I sharpened my hearing.
The lively noises had vanished.
The laughter of people,
The cheerful music announcing a festival,
Even the little bustling sounds from somewhere in the distance.
They had all disappeared.
No, it felt as though they had vanished.
“…It’s quiet.”
It felt like someone had deliberately swallowed all the sound.
The villagers,
The travelers who had come to enjoy the festival,
They must have all gone into their homes to sleep by now.
But still,
“Not a single person has come here.”
“……”
“Are you alone?”
I realized it only after asking.
If someone had been here,
A child wouldn’t be alone at this hour.
“That was a silly question.”
“……”
“You have nothing, do you?”
No home to return to,
No family to search for,
No dragons interested in you.
“I’m sorry.”
But there were no particular feelings behind those words.
I said it simply because it felt like something I had to say.
In place of an answer, a cold wind passed.
The ruins creaked as the remnants of the buildings swayed in the dark.
I leaned in closer to the child and spoke again.
“Once, I found a little human.”
“……”
“They didn’t want to let go of their robe, so I carried them around, and the village got noisy.”
“……”
“If I pick you up now, will it be considered kidnapping again?”
The child didn’t respond.
They just existed helplessly like a leaf caught in the wind.
I moved even closer and spoke again.
“If you don’t want me to, just say so.”
“……”
“If you say you don’t want to, I won’t take you.”
I waited.
Just in case.
If the child said “no” now, I was ready to leave this place.
But—
The child said nothing.
Instead, their tiny body leaned toward me and collapsed into my arms.
“Ah.”
I let out a short exclamation and caught the child’s body.
Like trying to stop a crumbling wall with my hand,
Quickly, but carefully.
“Are they dead?”
I quietly reached out to check the child’s breath.
The breath I felt at the tip of my nose was faint.
But they were definitely still alive.
“They’re alive.”
It wasn’t a sigh of relief.
I had merely confirmed the fact.
I had long since stopped attaching feelings to things like this.
“It doesn’t seem like they’re pretending to be dead. Have they fainted?”
The weight was light, so light that it felt like it could disappear into the mist in the alley at any moment.
I lowered my gaze to the child’s face.
Their sunken cheeks.
The dry, hollow eyes.
Their bones seemed to show through their skin, so thin and emaciated.
I applied a little more pressure with my fingers.
Slowly, I stood up.
Holding the child in my arms.
“You didn’t say no, so I’ll take you.”
Carefully, I began to walk.
The debris underfoot cracked,
And the quiet ruins were slowly broken by the sound.
Wooden pieces,
Crumbled brick fragments,
The sound of someone’s body crumbling underfoot.
But in this night,
In this place, no one was there to hear it.
No one but us.
The ruins quickly returned to their original silence,
And I walked leisurely as if nothing had happened.
Slowly, I left the ruins behind.
The night was calm.
And cold.
I removed my robe and wrapped it around the child’s body.
“If I bring this child to the inn, will it get noisy again?”
I didn’t want to feel tired.
I’d had enough of that kind of experience.
“…Where should I go?”
The forest seemed too cold for this child to survive.
Going back to my nest would take days even if I flew.
I stopped walking and thought.
I could feel the child’s body temperature growing colder.
I adjusted the robe and pulled the child closer.
“Ah, that’s right.”
At the edge of the forest.
There was an old hut that I occasionally stayed in.
Once, it had been used by hunters before being abandoned.
It had a fireplace,
There was a well nearby,
And the hut was still standing.
The roof,
The windows,
Though damaged, were still intact.
At least it was better than being outside.
Probably.
I changed direction.
Cutting through the darkness, I headed toward the forest.
Leaving the village behind.
No more signs of human presence.
Except for the child in my arms.
The dark, cold, and quiet night.
The moonlight was faint,
The wind rustled through the leaves.
In that silence, I quietly,
Carrying the tiny life in my arms, soared through the sky.
“I shouldn’t have let them get caught in the bombardment.”
The child’s body temperature was still low.
But their tiny breath was still faintly ongoing.
“Just a little further.”
The lights of the village had completely disappeared,
And the forest had been completely buried in darkness.
Thankfully,
It didn’t take long to find it.
The old hut appeared between the trees.
“…It’s still here.”
I landed silently, making no sound as I stepped on the fallen leaves.
The outer walls, long abandoned and overgrown with vines,
The roof and windows, broken with many holes.
“Someone must still be inside, right?”
I quietly pushed open the door.
The door creaked open before crumbling apart.
“Ah, it’s broken.”
Luckily, it wasn’t completely destroyed.
Carefully, I closed the door, trying not to break it any further.
I kicked the wooden board that had once been the door and stepped inside.
The floor was covered with a thick layer of fallen leaves,
And the wallpaper was peeling off in places.
The roof, windows,
And now even the door was partly damaged, letting in the wind.
“At least it’s warmer than outside.”
The furniture was mostly intact.
Old chairs and tables.
Next to them, a fireplace.
The firewood I had stored was still there.
I slowly laid the child down and placed the wood in the fireplace.
I snapped my fingers.
A small flame appeared in the air.
I threw it into the fireplace,
And soon, a warm orange glow lit up the dark hut.
The warmth quickly filled the hut.
“…This should be good enough.”
I turned my gaze toward the child.
They seemed to sense the warmth, and their faint breath became a bit calmer.
But—
It was still as fragile as ever.
“At least this.”
I took out the horn and claws I had been keeping hidden.
I scraped the horn with the claws to make fine powder.
The silvery powder shimmered gently in my palm.
“Sorry. As a dark dragon, I can’t use healing magic.”
I gently pried open the child’s mouth.
Slowly, I poured the powder inside.
“It doesn’t taste good. But it helps with vitality recovery, so bear with it.”
I knew the child wasn’t listening.
Still, the words slipped out.
As soon as the powder touched the child’s mouth, it dissolved.
Perhaps because of the bitter taste,
The child subtly furrowed their brow.
“…They’re still alive.”
I chuckled softly.
It seemed the horn powder worked after all.
The small rise and fall of the child’s chest became more visible.
“Thank goodness.”
I carefully covered them with the robe.
I also brought over an old blanket and covered them with it.
I sat beside the child.
Gently brushing their hair with the back of my hand.
It felt thin and fragile, almost like it could break.
The child’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
“Sorry for touching you. Sleep well.”
I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes.
I didn’t sleep.
I simply listened to the sound of the crackling fire.
For the first time in a long while, the warmth lingered in the hut.