Beyond Cloudfall - Chapter 5
During my days in the dragon’s lair, Sylus and I reach a delicate balance—
I can’t obtain his eye, and he doesn’t bring up the “demon’s deal” where he’ll devour my soul as payment.
We live together like true companions in the dragon’s nest above Tarus City, going out to plunder at dusk and returning with our spoils before dawn.
What I like most is seeing how the Legion of Justitia, who innocent civilians under the banner of “Doomsday is Coming,” buckle at the knees the moment they see a real demon and a sorceress descending upon them.
The thrill of revenge makes my soul tremble, and each time he always asks me, “Is there anything else you desire?”
It is the dragon who nurtures my ambition with his own hands, taking me to plunder in all four directions time and time again. Regardless of how dangerous the target may be, as long as I say, “I want it,” he will always help me to fulfill my wish.
Fate is like a runaway bead, spinning as it tumbles into a bottomless abyss.
I know that beneath the guise of avenging me, he is feeding the beast called “Desire” in my heart.
But gradually… my heart gives birth to a new greed.
MC: Here and here… we’ve been to all these places already, right?
I sit cross-legged on the newly arranged cushions, eating fruit while marking various spots on the star map.
The pomegranate I just set my eyes on is snatched away before I can get to it first. Ignoring my glare, Sylus reaches out to point at the edge of the star map.
Sylus: Didn’t you say you wanted the minerals and starships from here?
His tone can’t hide his excitement. In the hollow of my shoulder, the brand the dragon once left begins to faintly burn along with the blood-red light in his eyes.
I cover the patch of burning skin, thinking of the Sanctuary we raided two days ago—
—as the Judicator’s Oracle in resplendent white robes was held aloft in the air with one hand, the dragon’s eyes had boiled with bestial, frenzied cruelty.
MC: (That time, the brand burned like this too…)
I shake my head, not wanting to deeply dwell on whether or not the painful brand is symbol of some omen. Propping up my cheek, I watch him
Major Mistranslation Alert: Original translation incorrectly misattributed the above action to Sylus.
MC: You certainly remember it quite clearly.
Sylus raises an eyebrow and reaches for another slice of blood orange on the silver plate.
I snatch it away, and while he’s off-guard, I arch my body like a cat and pounce, pressing a small silver knife against his throat.
MC: Be honest. What do you gain from indulging my desires like this?
I pin him against the cushions, but in the next moment, both the knife and the faintly bleeding cut it had made dissolve into black-red sparks as he lets out a soft laugh.
Sylus tilts his head up to look at me from a breath’s distance away. As his head rises, the tip of his nose barely brushes against mine.
Sylus: And what about you?
Sylus: What do you gain from such a soft, feeble play at assassination?
We stare at each other amidst the hanging drapes. The sunset reflected in his eyes carries an almost unreal warmth.
My heart feels like it’s been lightly scratched by something. I let out a scoff, return to my seat, and cut open a , peeling it as I eat it.
MC: Even if you don’t say it, I already know. Isn’t it because the greedier the soul, the tastier it is? when you play with fire.
Sylus also laughs, and as I pluck out another pomegranate seed, he leans down to snatch it with his mouth.
Sylus: That goes both ways.
Sylus: Isn’t the only reason you haven’t run away because you’re waiting for the opportunity to gouge out my eye?
But as I gaze into his eyes, I discover that I don’t truly want to hurt him.
It’s as if, apart from his horns and tail, he isn’t any different from humans.
Besides searching for places to plunder together, the dragon and I often run into each other at the highest point of the dragon nest.
Sometimes, I tell him stories I’ve heard. He rarely responds, as if he’s become lost in the stories, or perhaps it’s just that he wants to be able to have someone watch the moon with him.
Occasionally, the dragon tells me about himself, such as the of dragon-slaying weapons in his treasury or the 108 dragon-slaying methods humans have attempted on him.
But the vast majority of the time, we just sit together without saying a word.
The gentle night filters away the sharp edges of his scales, revealing his truest self.
Not long after the sunset, the rocks still retain the day’s warmth.
I lie down on them and let my freshly washed hair air dry,
Sylus: That song, does it have to be played on a pipe organ? Didn’t we previously buy a bone flute?
The dragon had laid down beside me at some point. I touch the ends of his hair—they’re also damp with moisture.
MC: Since you like to listen to it so much, how about I teach you to sing it?
Sylus: I won’t learn.
MC: Is it that you won’t learn, or that you’re unable to learn?
I cup his face in my hands and turn it to face me, meeting his gaze.
MC: To be honest, during this time, I’ve noticed something—
MC: You can’t understand a song’s melody, can’t see the beauty of patterns, and can’t taste the flavor of food, can you?
Sylus: Dragons don’t need these things to live.
He escapes from my grasp, but I hear a hint of awkward evasion in his words.
MC: You look very mature, but you’ve been sealed for so long… Sylus, you’re actually still a very young dragon, aren’t you?
Sylus: ?
MC: You’ve only learned to hide your wings…
I gently caress the horns on his head, my hand stroking along the visible ridges of his spine, across his empty back, until I reach his tail.
MC: But you can’t hide your horns and tail.
MC: Have you come of age? It can’t be that you’re pretending to be mature because you’re scared of losing your “demon” identity, right?
The dragon says nothing, his hand pulling away from my teasing touch to coil around our bodies and curl around my lower back.
Sylus: You mean to say that you’ve discovered my secret.
An unyielding force gently pulls me closer against the dragon’s chest.
Sylus: If there really is a young dragon that hasn’t yet come of age before you right now, what do you plan to do? Eat it?
MC: ….
MC: I plan to tell it that this position we’re in right now, in the human language, is called a “hug.”
Sylus: Then, in the human world, do people like us, who want to kill each other, also hug like this?
Dark clouds drift by in the sky above, coincidentally blocking the moonlight at that moment, making it so I can’t clearly see his expression.
But some words are like that moonlight—after the moment passes, there’s no longer the need to speak them out loud.
I turn over, shifting into a more relaxed position, lying on my back.
MC: Tell me about human souls. What do they taste like?
MC: I’ve known you for so long, yet I’ve never seen you devour one before… Have you actually never devoured a soul before?
But the dragon continues to lie on his side, staring at me as if my face holds some kind of secret he has yet to parse out.
Sylus: Human souls, for the most part, all smell nauseating. I’m better off with a
MC: The first time I saw you, you said my soul was “bland.” Looking at it this way, that was actually a compliment.
Sylus: Indeed, it lacks vitality, like a big piece of turkey meat.
MC: When I think back to that situation, I can’t help but laugh.
Sylus: Is there something you want again?
MC: Not really…
Perhaps I only want to know if a dragon who can lure humans to fall into evil thoughts…
Is he able to feel that human emotion called “love” — a superfluous desire beyond survival.
In his world, besides survival and killing, can there also be pipe organs and hugs?
But perhaps, the person beside me really only just looks human.
All of his previous indulgence toward me was truly only in exchange for a soul.
MC: Sylus, all of those gems and weapons aren’t fresh and new anymore. If you want to nourish my desire, you’ll need to feed it with an even rarer precious treasure.
MC: This time, I want…
I refuse to be the only one who falls into this kind of distress.
So this time, I’ll ask him for something that he will never have, and will never give.
Kindled
YOUR LOVE - YOUR SOUL
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— Tarus City's Tavern
The small tavern in Tarus City never has a time in which it is closed. On the stage, a woman in a fiery red dance dress has only just left.
Amidst the noisy din of the tavern’s patrons, I wear a hood as I sit with Sylus on the soft cushions in the shadows by the window.
MC: How are the scents of the souls here? Are they making you nauseous?
Sylus: Unbearably chaotic and messy, but anywhere is better than the hypocritical Sanctuary.
A wooden cup filled with bright red liquid is set down before us with a “thud,” and the tavern server turns to leave.
Under the lights, suddenly comes an evil dragon’s roar. An actor wearing a pair of dragon wings stands at center stage, singing.
Of course, I know that Sylus didn’t bring me here right now for a midnight snack.
MC: A real dragon is right beside me. Why did you bring me here to watch a fake one?
Sylus: Don’t humans like to listen to stories? I don’t know how to tell them, so watch it for yourself.
This seems to be a very long and tedious story. The actor playing the dragon sings for a long time without anyone replacing him.
I stir the beef sauce on my plate, hearing some lines clearly, and missing a few others.
The body beside me is very warm. I pull his tail around me and wrap myself up in it, then lean against his shoulder, drifting in and out of sleep.
MC: … I fear that outside the city, the flames of war have been burning for days. Only the people of Tarus City can still live so happily.
Sylus: The people here are just seeds scattered off-handedly. Whether or not they can grow depends entirely on their luck.
Sylus: Even if they can grow, they might not live past tomorrow. Naturally, only the present moment can be enjoyed thoroughly.
MC: Then right now, we’re also “people who also might not live past tomorrow”, right?
Sylus: What are you trying to say now?
I grab the dragon’s wrist, narrow my eyes, and smile.
MC: I want to say something that, to humans, is more precious than any treasure.
MC: …
Sylus: ?
MC: I like the you of this moment.
Finished speaking, I turn my head away. The dragon’s face is blurrily reflected in the transparent window.
I secretly watch him, catching the smile that appears at the corner of his mouth and then is quickly hidden.
Sylus: Turn around.
He grabs my shoulders and forces me to face him.
Sylus: What, you want to use your human love to move me?
MC: I wanted to say it, so I did. However, the moment that I liked you is already over.
The dragon pulls the brim of my hood over my eyes, and my heart trembles slightly. But all I get is a light flick from him.
Sylus: Too late. I’ve already committed it to memory.
Turning my head, I see that the story on the stage is on its final act—
The actor playing the demon and his beloved embrace each other and kiss. Simultaneously, he plunges his claws, dripping with blood, into her chest.
Later that night, the dragon carries the drowsy young woman through Tarus City’s crowded, narrow alleys.
No one gives them another glance, as if he has really become an ordinary human walking back home in the moonlight.
MC: Sylus… This play you brought me to see, I don’t understand it. Probably because I fell asleep in the middle.
Sylus: Then just sleep. It wasn’t a very particularly interesting play.
MC: But, I want to hear it. You tell the story. Humans have nightmares if they don’t listen to bedtime stories.
Sylus: …
Sylus: The performance tonight was the story of a dragon.
The shadows of others drift by one after the other. He could have flown back to the dragon’s lair with her, but tonight, he wants to walk a little further with her instead.
Sylus: In the very beginning, the dragon lived in a valley with other dragons.
Sylus: Amongst all of the dragons, only he possessed a human appearance, so he always mistakenly believed that he was an ordinary person.
Sylus: And so, the dragon grew up just like that, until he grew horns and a tail.
Sylus: He had never seen these things on a human’s body before. He was very scared, so he picked up axes and knives to cut them off.
Sylus: But every time he chopped them off, new horns and scales would grow back amidst the blood.
He turns and walks onto a small path. There are fewer people here, and his voice grows softer, as if he is truly trying to lull her to sleep.
Sylus: After a long time had passed, with great difficulty, he finally accepted that he was a monster with horns growing on his head…
Sylus: But then, his beloved appeared.
The moment she pulled the sword out, he knew that she was his nemesis decreed by fate to kill him.
But at some point, he no longer wanted to devour her soul.
Sylus: She gave him human love and companionship, making him mistakenly believe that he could also live like a human.
Sylus: And so, without realizing it, he gradually forgot that he was a dragon.
Perhaps it was when she first climbed up to the cave entrance, when morning light fell on a face smudged with ash and scratched with wounds.
Or perhaps it was her unrestrained, growing desires, which
Or perhaps it was because she also was a little monster with horns growing in her heart.
Sylus: By nature, dragons like to manipulate human desires. But in the end, they will also become enslaved by desire, becoming complete monsters
Sylus: So, at the end of the story, he killed his beloved.
Sylus: This is the dragon’s curse.
The lights gradually disappear behind his footsteps. Drawing back his hooded robes, he is still the otherworldly being with dragon horns and a tail.
MC: Sylus, do you hate humans?
Sylus: At least for now, I can’t say I like them.
MC: …But I’m human too.
Sylus: …
Formless wings slice through the air currents as he carries the young woman who is slowly falling asleep and flies higher.
Sylus: —And what about you? Why stay by a dragon’s side?
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