Shiori and Alec stood in silence for a time. The dragon had finally been laid to rest, and around them, people had begun the work of tidying the battlefield. The dragon was of such size that it resembled a small mountain, and it had nearly overwhelmed a party of experienced veterans. It was a blade to be held at the throat of Storydia Kingdom, and perhaps, in a different world, it might have done exactly as the Imperials had hoped, and crushed the kingdom into subservience.
Inside of that monstrous dragon, however, was the heart of a child. A heart that had been starved of love and freedom. None of the adventurers or knights regretted having slain the magical beast, but all were caught in a swirl of helplessness, sympathy, and misery.
“To think that a young dragon’s scale is so fragile,” uttered Shiori.
In her palm was the scale of an ice dragon, fractured into two pieces.
“And to think that a fully grown dragon’s scales are so tough,” said Alec, gently touching one of the scales in his lover’s hand. “It grew up...to be very strong.”
He thought of the bottom of the frozen lake, and the cold darkness in which the dragon had matured, ever alone. He said another silent prayer, hoping that—were the magical beast granted another chance at life—it would be rewarded with one filled with warmth and kindness. It was all he could think as he watched their familiars placing snow violets upon the dragon’s body.
“Treasure those, you hear?” said Zack, giving both adventurers a pat on the shoulder. “It’s a very rare thing for a dragon to give its scale to someone it doesn’t have a familiar contract with. It might come see you again someday, and you never know...it could well need those scales to find you.”
His right arm had been healed with physicking magic, and was as good as new, save for old scars he’d acquired long before the burn. Behind Zack was the person who had done the actual physicking: Ellen.
“Ellen...” Shiori uttered.
If she’s here, that means...
“The surgery is done. He’s safe,” she said, smiling.
She didn’t mention a name, but she didn’t have to.
“He’s probably still sleeping, but please, go check on him.”
Nadia was already gone; she’d likely gone to Clemens’s side as soon as it had all ended.
“I’ve got to oversee cleaning this place up,” said Zack. “You two go on ahead.”
Shiori and Alec didn’t need to be told twice—they were off in a heartbeat. Clemens was still in pain—he was exhausted and still reeling from his wound—but this was nonetheless better than the worst-case alternative.
“Clemens!”
The two adventurers rushed into the medic tent, where Clemens had just woken. He was lying in bed, only barely conscious and unable to properly focus, but even then he smiled when he saw his friends. He was gently stroking Nadia’s back with a hand as she buried her head in his chest, her shoulders trembling.
He’s alive.
So relieved was he to see his friend safe that Alec could barely remain standing, and he approached Clemens on wobbly feet.
“I’m so glad,” he uttered. “I thought...maybe I’d never see you again.”
His voice wavered and his vision blurred as hot tears threatened to stream from his eyes.
“Always the crybaby,” whispered Clemens, still smiling.
“‘Always’?! What do you mean, always?!”
“You just cry a lot. It’s surprising. Oh, you hadn’t noticed?”
Clemens’s voice was husky and weak, but his jab was a salve for Alec’s heart, and Alec dropped to his knees by his friend’s side.
“Who wouldn’t cry?” he said.
“I did what I did because I chose to,” Clemens said. “Don’t let it bother you. Yeah, it was a bit thoughtless, but I don’t regret it.”
“Well you should,” retorted Alec. “How could I have gone on if I’d lost you to that?”
His words were blunt, but true. He had taken on this job for his country and its people, but he did not think he could overcome the loss of a friend under such circumstances.
“And knowing you,” said Clemens, choosing his words carefully to keep certain secrets still hidden, “you’re beating yourself up over the potential reasons it happened in the first place.”
Though it had all happened very quickly, Clemens could still recall the immediate aftermath of his being hit by the arrow, right down to the words that the crazed Imperial had shouted afterwards. It was very possible that the Imperial had targeted Alec because he knew who Alec was. Alec had disappeared for four years on a confidential request, and upon his return, he had a suspiciously detailed knowledge of the Empire—all of which had led Clemens to surmise that there had potentially been intent behind the attempted shooting.
That was how long Clemens had spent fighting by Alec’s side. He knew the man like a brother. Still, he refrained from saying anything aloud, knowing that it would draw suspicion, and that it was not a topic to delve into with so many others around. The Imperial attacker, too, would likely receive judgment at the hands of one who knew the circumstances more thoroughly. And so Clemens said only what he truly wanted to convey.
“Overthinking things is a bad habit of yours,” said Clemens. “I made it out alive thanks to our talented colleague, I protected a dear friend, and that same dear friend went on to become a heroic dragon slayer. Could anything be more satisfying? I’m as proud as they come. So quit it with the regrets and the moping, and take pride in those you call your friends.”
“I didn’t slay that dragon on my own,” replied Alec. “The only reason I could land the final blow was because of everything that led to that moment. I was in the right place at the right time.”
“Yeah, that might be true, but when everybody was ready to throw in the towel and hang up their gloves, it was you who boosted their spirits. I heard you even received a dragon scale in the aftermath. Even the dragon, your foe, recognized your efforts. If that doesn’t make you a hero, then what does? Hold your head high, Alec, and take more pride in your work.”
“All right, you got me,” said Alec, his expression somewhere between tears and laughter. “I had all these things I wanted to tell you, but here I am getting propped up by an injured friend. Thank you, Clemens. I slew that dragon because you saved my life. That makes you a hero among heroes.”
“A hero among heroes, huh? I like the sound of that.”
Clemens chuckled, but his brow quickly creased at the pain this caused him.
“Until just moments ago, you were at the brink of death,” said Nadia, frowning as she put a finger over his lips. “You’re talking too much. Do you have any idea how worried we all were...?”
Her cheeks were wet with tears. Clemens had no regrets about his actions, even if they’d put him right at death’s doorstep, but when it came to having plunged his lover into the depths of despair, he had no words. Nadia had lost a fiancé before, and had things gone differently, his actions would have put her through that nightmare a second time—of that there was no doubt.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Nadia’s head stayed down as yet more tears fell from her eyes.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Clemens whispered, wiping her tears away with a finger. “When I recover, I want you by my side. Forever. I’ve prepared a wedding dress already. It’s a traditional Storydian gown, just like the one you said you always wanted.”
A traditional Storydian wedding gown was made from undyed cotton, and embroidered with snow violets. The gown Clemens had bought was not embroidered; Nadia had said she wanted to do the embroidery work herself.
“Clem... You...” she uttered.
Her smile was like flowers blooming. It was not the bewitching smile of Nadia the mage, but of the young girl who had long remained dormant in her heart since that tragedy of twenty-six years past. It was an honest, pure, and innocent smile.
“Then I’ll see to the embroidery while I wait for you to fully recover.”
In every stitch she would place her hopes and dreams, waiting for their fateful day. Nadia was an expert when it came to the craft, and a gown adorned with her embroidered snow violets was sure to look stunning on her.
“Yes, you do that. And I...I just can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress.”
Clemens raised his uninjured arm and gently pulled Nadia in close. He wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her head to his.
“I love you,” he said.
“As I you,” she replied.
Their kiss was gentle, and accented with the lingering taste of tears. A moment later, they found themselves the subject of applause, then joyous whoops, and even a few whistles.
“That’s so wonderful,” said Shiori.
“Yeah, it really... It really is,” said Alec, his eyes welling with tears.
“It’s true... You really are a crybaby.”
“So what?”
Alec wiped roughly at his tears, then pulled Shiori close and kissed her. It was a deep kiss, and he did not hold back. He took away her chance to squeal, and even any breath she’d thought of drawing. The cheers grew louder behind them. When Alec finally released her, Shiori was flushed and dazed, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.
“Guess I’m not the only crybaby,” said Alec.
“Oh, you!” said Shiori, pouting.
She spun away, but it was no use trying to hide with her face so red, and the gesture only spurred Alec on. With a chuckle, he pulled her to him once more and kissed her all over again.
“Us too!” cried Ludger from afar.
But as he drew closer to his bandaged wife, he was met only with rejection.
“It’s not a competition!” Marena snapped.
Rurii looked upon it all with a joyful wobble: “All’s well that ends well.”
Violid, meanwhile, woofed to say, “You’re all so very passionate.”
“I told you to check on him, but I don’t recall giving you permission to party! And that goes double for you, Clemens! You’re supposed to be resting! You can save all your romancing for when you’re in full health and back home!”
Having heard all the revelry in the tent, Ellen had come storming in like the god of the underworld, a fearsome look on her face that would bow to none and expected complete compliance. It was only then that the cheering and the celebrations came to an end.