Chapter 1: 1

Chapter 1: Charles Ryan.

– It is the enemy of God. Born of chaos. Powerful and Evil.

– It lives in the deep seas, in the high clouds, in the swampy swamps, in the snow and in the winds.

– It plunders treasures, robs the most honorable princesses, brings disasters and tramples cities.

– It brings the most heroic warrior to death and glory, with the blessings of the gods, the dragon spear and the bow and arrow.

– It is the monster left by the heavens and the earth, the enemy of all things.

– The dragon.

* * *

“With the gods’ blessings, dragon spear! bow and arrow.”

The little boy in the beret ripped at the flowers on the door and looked at the florist in front of him angrily: “Stop Aina! Don’t sing this song again, the dragon didn’t hurt us!”

The golden light of dusk shone on the City of Robbs Sea, giving the delicate flowers in front of this particular flower shop a temporary coat of golden brown. The petals that the boy had torn off danced with the wind for a few seconds before finally and unceremoniously reaching the earth. The florist – Aina – frowned and leaned over, reaching out to grab and twist the little boy’s ear.

“How old are you? How do you know that those evil dragons haven’t done any evil? Roy! Stop pulling my flowers, or I’ll send you to the sanctuary and we’ll see what the envoy will do with you, evil one.”

The little boy – Roy – was easily frightened, and the florist, on seeing this, smiled in triumph and then returned her focus to her business; trimming the flowers while humming the well-known dragon song.

The bells in the church soon rang, drawing the fishermen from Haikou ashore and into its confines where they knelt devoutly and thanked the god of the sea for his protection for the day. They prayed to the God of Noah’s Continent.

Roy, full of grievances from his unwarranted scolding, lowered the brim of his gray hat, glaring at the florist from a corner of his eyes as he stealthily and swiftly stole a pure white flower from a bunch before turning around and disappearing into the stone fortress that secured his home.

The coast was full of such fortresses. The rough mines were built practically, and they could be well protected against storms and waves. Robbs Sea City was – in all honesty – more of a small town than an actual city. It relied heavily on the sea to survive, far less prosperous than the current cities which thrived on the mainland.

Roy, during his run, had come across the worshipping fishermen and for a few moments he stopped and gazed at them with wonder. He’d seen the sight numerous times before, and so a few seconds of staring was enough to see him grow bored of their devoutness and so his run continued. Taking him to an inconspicuous part of the beach where an equally inconspicuous rock was laid. Running behind the rock brought him face to face with a blond youth who looked no older than eighteen years of age.

The youth was draped in a short light golden cloak. He’d most likely heard the approaching footsteps as he opened his eyes lazily. His red pupils were dazzling under the sunlight. He sat up, taking the flower in Roy’s hand with great interest, and inspected it curiously. “Can this really be planted on my Dragon Island?”

The blond boy’s voice was pleasing to the ear, he sounded like a child who had not changed his voice through the process of puberty. His baby face and voice were accentuated by his blond hair and red pupils. If it weren’t for his height, any observing passerby would have seen the two stood together to be of the same age.

Roy patted his chest proudly: “Of course! I’ve already asked, this is the best flower in the entire Western Land. Even if it is your Dragon Island, it will definitely be able to grow!”

The blond boy’s eyes lit up: “Then that’s great, there’s nothing on Long Island. Siren said that all the bare islands on Long Island are reefs, and the princess would never like that kind of place.”

Roy was stunned: “Princess?”

He suddenly thought of the dragon song that was so well known, a bud of uncertainty suddenly blooming in his mind: “You don’t… are you actually a bad dragon?”

“Why am I a bad dragon?” A pair of dark red horns hidden within his hair were exposed for a brief moment by the whistling winds.

Roy summoned up his courage: “But you’re going to rob the princess!”

The boy looked at him puzzled: “Yeah, I’ll be an adult in three days. I’ll finally be a hundred years old!”

Roy felt that there was something inexplicable about the second sentence. Regardless, it seemed that becoming an adult was a great event for dragons, as pride and excitement were evident on the youth’s face, but then the smile on his face fell again and he supported his chin in visible distress: “But I am a half-blood dragon, and I was born at sea. I have no inheritance and no parents to teach me, I don’t know what the dragons do as adults… “But I heard the dragon song you humans sing, and while I don’t want to do the other things, bringing the princess back to play with me, that sounds great!”

The young man was holding the little white flower as he spoke, excitement returned to his face. Roy, unable to dispute this logic, released a sigh. The fear that had ignited now melted away. But he frowned and continued, “But it’s wrong to rob someone…”

The youth was unhappy: “Then what do you say the dragons are going to do when they become adults?”

Poor Roy, a little beanie under ten years old, how was he to know what dragons actually did on coming of age? He could only bow his head: “I don’t know.”

The sun was about to set and so the young man stood up amid thoughts about returning to the sea – his home. As he began to move he suddenly remembered something and came to a stop, turning and beckoning to Roy as he took out a sparkling gem.

“Thank you for helping me find flowers.”

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Roy gasped. He was just a child from an ordinary family. He had only seen such precious things with nobles and in the windows of big shops, but the young man put one in his hands so lightly. “You… you’re giving this to me?”

Roy’s eyes were brighter than the sun. The youth, meanwhile, looked at the gem in his hand – it was the size of an adult’s palm – with a bit of distress, and after thinking about it, he took out a smaller piece. Yes, he was a bit hesitant to give away something so large. The ninety-nine-year-old youth blinked innocently and rubbed a finger across the bridge of his nose: “I’ll give you this one. They’re too heavy for me to keep carrying around, but giving you this helps reduce the weight for me. ”

It was a lame excuse, but Roy didn’t mind, he knew how valuable the gem would be to his family. There wouldn’t be a need to fish in the sea for quite a while, or even to open a store on Central Street like Aina.

Seeing the child’s stunned appearance, the young man couldn’t help but laugh. It was amusing to see how valuable such a small gem was to this little friend of his. Clearing his throat a few times in a bid to stop his laughter, he turned back and began walking towards the sea.

Roy recovered from his shock a few seconds later, hurriedly stopped him with a shout: The youth turned around and looked at him suspiciously: “What else do you want?”

Roy’s little face flushed: “Can I… can I know your name?”

“My name?” The youth raised his hand to block the rays of the descending sun from his eyes.

“Charles Ryan.”

A second after his words, the youth’s figure was no longer there, a huge draconic figure replacing it on the beach. A strong, crimson body, beautiful horns, a long tail, and a pair of huge wings like bat wings were revealed to Roy for the barest of seconds. The crimson dragon had black lines running across his body, and Roy seemed to feel a scorching wind generated as its wings flapped and speedily took to the skies – showcasing a size that put even the largest sea ship in Robbs Seaport to shame.

Even without feeling it personally, Roy could sense how hard the armor on the dragon was. As the dragon flew with wings spread across the sky, the child took in a deep breath. The dragon and the golden sea were the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

* * *

Charles flew across the sea quickly and landed on Dragon Island before sunset.

Dragon Island at night can’t be called quiet, but it can’t be classified as noisy either. The sound of the waves was constantly in the background, and the occasionally fearless birds that perched around the island provided a mix of sounds that further built up the ambience. Charles had wasted enough time in his early days trying to drive them out, he didn’t have the time to still pay them any attention any longer. He first searched for a place where he could plant the newly gotten white flowers, before returning to the sea to find what would be his dinner.

Charles was a bit of a picky eater, preferring the silver fishes’ tender and delicious taste after a bit of roasting. Of course, the fire for the roasting was produced from his breath.

After swallowing seven or eight fish in a row, Charles felt more comfortable. Having sated his stomach, thoughts of the newly planted flowers left him unable to sit still and so he ran to see just how much the little white flower had grown while he ate. On reaching the plant, he found it slowly withering and this instantly saw his excitement drop sharply into the depths of disappointment.

‘Perhaps Dragon Island really isn’t suitable for plants?’

Heavily saddened by the dying flowers yet helpless to do anything about it, he could only curse the sea breeze which he deemed his flowers’ killer in his heart. While he cursed, a wave of sea water rose up from the sea and crashed down on his already troubled flowers – chilling his heart.

Charles, now brimming with rage, rushed up a nearby boulder to gain a higher vantage point from which he discovered the location of the culprit – the Siren. The said Siren who, as she laid on the beach, just happened to be looking right back at him.

“Siren! What are you doing?!”

Charles, extremely angry, pointed at his flowers, which now seemed to be drenched in water: “You’ll pay for my flowers!” Unaffected by the rage of the half-blood dragon, the Siren winked at him charmingly: “Charles, flowers on land cannot survive on Dragon Island. Not because of the environment here, but because of you.”

Too angry to be reasoned with, the said anger was only fuelled by her dismissive attitude, Charles responded: “I don’t care! If it weren’t for you, my flowers would have bloomed all over Dragon Island a long time ago! I see now why humans hate you!”

The corners of the Siren’s beautiful lips drooped down in a mix of anger and sadness and she waved a hand, calling out another wave of water that this time crashed down on Charles himself.

“What I said was right! This flower won’t grow here! And it’s not just the flowers, it’s the same with the princess you brought back. Humans have a short lifespan and are prone to all kinds of illnesses – their kind isn’t suitable for you at all!”

Fearing that she’d over spoken in her rage, the Siren suddenly went quiet. As she agonized over whether Charles would understand her heart through her angrily spoken words, she worriedly glanced at him.

Fortunately or unfortunately for her, Charles’ mind was currently clouded by rage and so her words and their potential meanings flew right over his head. The only thing he was capable of processing at the moment was the fact that she had killed his beautiful flowers and that he’d given out a precious gem in vain:

“You’re so annoying!”

Sighing in a mix of relief and disappointment, the siren soon overcame her nervousness, giving space for her anger to return to the forefront: “If you want to go, go! A half-blood dragon without any inheritance. Even if you bring the princess back, what does that change? No ethnic group will recognize you either way!”

Charles puffed up his face angrily: “It’s better than your nameless self! Screw off!”

Bristling in rage, the siren once again released a wave of water, but Charles was ready this time. A breath of fire reduced the oncoming wave to mist and evaporated it all, the flames going on to burn the siren herself. Leaving her to scream in pain and escape into the sea.

Charles looked at the little white flower that had been completely drowned by seawater, and sighed in distress. ‘Screw that siren! She’s wasted my gems!’ he thought.

Translator’s Note: It’s our first time translating and editing a novel.. Please give us some love.

 

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