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The Seiryuu had grown so achingly familiar with these tunnels.
Seiryuu had nothing to him—not a name, not a family, and not even a hope—he was no more than the ghost who haunted these caves. He had a heart and lungs that pumped within his chest, his skin was warm to the touch, and bugs hadn’t eaten into his flesh. By all means, Seiryuu should be alive, but he didn’t feel like it.
Ao was gone, and Seiryuu was alone.
At the very least, he’d looked happy in the end. Before Seiryuu had killed all those people.
He sighed and traced his fingers over the wall of the caves. Some places were smooth, and others were rough. Though he wore a mask over his face and there was no light present in these dark tunnels, he could see each crack and divet in the stone with startling detail.
A creepy power for a creepy boy.
He sighed with no sound, letting his hand fall from the stone. There was not a sound in these caves. The villagers holed themselves up in a different section of the cave system, barring him from them out of terror. Seiryuu couldn’t blame them, but it’d been so, so long since he’d heard anything, let alone a human voice. He could still see them faintly from time to time, his powers of sight able to permeate the stone where the sound of their footsteps and hushed whispering could not, but only when they left food for him so he wouldn’t starve.
He supposed he should be grateful just for that, though a part of him was depressingly aware that they just didn’t want him to starve to death and end up cursing one of their children in his stead.
He took a few steps, the sound of the bell tied to his mask filling his ears. He sighed again, still inaudible, and let that sound ring in his mind a few moments before moving again.
This sound… The sound of bells, ones that chimed for someone long gone, were the only company Seiryuu had.
He knew these tunnels, and he knew which to avoid to keep from crossing the line to where the villagers lived. And even still, there were many parts of the cave system which were foreign to him. With his sight, getting lost was not an issue, so he explored to stave off boredom and memories.
And now, he was at a fork he’d yet to explore.
Any other child might hesitate to wander into the dark unknown, but Seiryuu was no ordinary child. He stepped into the darkness without a second thought, because unlike most children, Seiryuu’s eyes could pierce its viel and stare back at that unending void.
How odd…
Seiryuu had seen many things in his short life, but he had never seen anything like this.
He arrived at where the cave ended, and a carved wall met him. Unlike the rest of the cave, the wall was chipped and polished into one flat surface, then etched with intricate designs and lettering. What it was, or what language it was written in, Seiryuu couldn’t tell. Maybe he was just too unlearned for it.
Ao had tried to teach him to read and write, but he had died all too soon. Seiryuu felt he still had much to learn from Ao that no one else would have ever taught him, reading and writing being just one of them.
Seiryuu approached the carved wall, curiosity blazing. He’d never seen a marvel like this before, and for a boy who knew nothing but dirty stone walls, it was a refreshing spark of intrigue.
He stepped forward, reaching a hand out until the tips of his fingers met the cool surface of the stone.
And then, he knew no more.
-/-/-
Seiryuu didn’t want to wake up, because for the first time in a long, long time, he felt warm.
Ao kept his distance, even during the time they both lived together. To the other villagers, Seiryuu was nothing but a monster. He had only a threadbare blanket to keep him warm at night, and his clothes were always just as worn. The people, his home, the caves—nothing ever offered him warmth.
And yet, Seiryuu was warm.
It was such a pleasant feeling, and Seiryuu was so starved for it that his sleep addled mind had him snuggling into that warmth rather than questioning it. He’d dreamed of nothing, and yet he wanted to remain asleep in this warmth forever.
It was only when Seiryuu shifted again did the alarm bells in his head ring.
He wasn’t wearing his mask.
His mask was gone.
He shot up and clambered away from whoever had been holding him, clapping two hands over his face to obscure it from view. His surroundings were hazy now that he wasn’t concentrating on using his dragon eyes, but he knew it was bright. The air was fresh, as well. There were… people, too. Unfamiliar people.
Surroundings assessed, Seiryuu realized he couldn’t use his blade with both hands over his face, so he removed one hand and began to fumble around for it.
“Are you looking for this?” a smooth and calm voice asked, and Seiryuu ripped his head towards the sound. He focused, and the image of a person became clear before him. They were regal, with expensive looking robes flowing down their form, and in their outstretched grip rested Seiryuu’s blade.
But the most striking thing…
Their eyes were a mirror of Seiryuu’s own.
The shock was so intense that his hands fell away from his face, dragon eyes meeting dragon eyes for the first time in what felt like ages. It was nostalgic, and yet wrong.
The only one with dragon eyes should be Ao, and Ao was dead. Had a new child with the curse been born already? But no, this person was clearly an adult and much older than Seiryuu, so it shouldn’t be possible. There should only be Seiryuu.
“He looks confused,” another person commented, drawing Seiryuu’s startled attention. He’d been so distraught and disoriented that he hadn’t even noticed the man, and moreover—
“Well, I don’t blame the little guy. I’m confused, too.”
“Shuten, Guen. Keep your voices down,” a gentle voice chided, one that filled Seiryuu with a deep sense of nostalgia, pain, and an odd feeling he couldn’t describe. Were he to know what a home felt like, he would know that feeling to be one of coming home. Unruly red hair fell down the man’s back, and the sight was more than Seiryuu felt he could take. “...Little one?”
Seiryuu’s eyes met this man’s, and instantly, he burst into tears.
The sight of him was so overwhelming, and he couldn’t explain why. The dragon blood in him was roiling, but he didn’t understand why. Who was this man? Why did the blood in Seiryuu react so strongly to him?
“Oh no, he’s crying,” another person said, this one more familiar than the others. A different familiarity than with the red haired man’s, but it was just as confusing and hard to place.
“Shut up, Zeno. We can see that,” another snapped, in a hushed tone. This person struck Seiryuu as a green dragon, with vitriol and zeal that remained untamed.
The elegant person from earlier, who Seiryuu was now recognizing as a blue dragon for some reason, crossed their arms and huffed. They were the same as him, and yet that shouldn’t be possible. “Don’t be so brutish; you’ll only scare him more.”
“Don’t fight, you two,” the last grumbled—a white dragon. His appearance was rough, one that spoke of countless battles and a warrior who lived for the battlefield, but Seiryuu had an inkling that he was a softer person than he appeared.
And this…
This feeling was…
Seiryuu was connected to these people, somehow.
The red haired person most of all.
He sniffed and hiccuped, his cheeks utterly drenched in tears. It’d been a long time since he’d cried like this, and it had him scrubbing furiously at his eyes. It was so overwhelming and frustrating, he wanted it to just stop, but now that the dam had been broken, Seiryuu found he couldn’t bottle his feelings back up again.
Then, a hand was on his head, gently stroking his hair. Seiryuu met the eyes of the red haired man, and in return, he smiled warmly. Perhaps Seiryuu would shy away from any other stranger, but his blood told him that this man was safe.
This man, these people—
They were home, to a boy who didn’t even know what that was.
“It’s okay,” the red haired man urged gently. “We’re here to help. Just cry it out, and we’ll talk when you feel a bit better. Okay?”
Seiryuu nodded slowly. He’d long hid his eyes away again with one hand, but it was only a matter of time before he slipped up again. He forced his mouth to work and croak out the word, “...Mask?”
“...Your mask?” Slowly, the red haired man gestured to the blue dragon, and they offered him a familiar mask. In turn, he passed it back to Seiryuu.
Seiryuu slowly took it back, slotting it back over his face. It eased some of the worry in his chest—worry that he might accidentally kill these people like the monster he was—but it did nothing about his confusion.
Mask now firmly hiding away his tears, Seiryuu took in each of the five people before him in turn. They stared back at him, some exchanging glances between one another like adults did, before the white dragon knelt on the ground next to the red haired man.
“Do you remember how you got here?” he asked, with a gentleness that would be surprising given his appearance, had Seiryuu not already predicted the kind soul hidden behind the gruff exterior.
Slowly, Seiryuu shook his head. “I was… in the caves. Then… I found… a carving. I dunno from there.”
“A carving?” The red haired man hummed with a hand on his chin. “Did you recognize the language?”
“Do you know what’s going on, King Hiryuu?”
King Hiryuu? Was the king’s name Hiryuu? Seiryuu couldn’t remember.
The red haired man, King Hiryuu, flashed the yellow dragon who’d spoken a smile. “Perhaps, perhaps not. Now tell me, little one, did you recognize the language in the carvings?”
“...No,” he admitted. “I’m… Bad at reading.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Hiryuu assured. “I think I may understand what’s going on, but first, how about we introduce ourselves? My name is Hiryuu, and aside from being a former god and now the king of this land, I am an ordinary human with no special powers. My friends here are…”
“I’m Guen, the Hakuryuu with the dragon arm,” the white dragon announced, his broad grin betraying his pride in his name and title.
No one else spoke for a moment, before the blue dragon cleared their throat and spoke, “My name is Abi. I am the Seiryuu, possessing the eyes of a dragon.”
Seiryuu blinked. So they were… both blue?
Perhaps the matching dragon eyes should have given that away, but this day was proving too strange for Seiryuu to be able to keep up.
“And I’m Shuten, dragon legged Ryokuryuu,” the green dragon said. His introduction seemed to lack the care of the others, but Seiryuu didn’t mind.
Finally, the yellow dragon spoke. “My name is Zeno, and I’m the Ouryuu. I’m supposed to have a strong body, but in practice… I don’t really have any special powers.”
Hiryuu smiled at the four of them, apparently satisfied with their introductions. He then turned to Seiryuu and asked, “Now then, little one. Would you be able to tell us who you are?”
“I am… If Seiryuu... has dragon eyes like me, then… I am… probably… Seiryuu, too.” Should he address these people by their titles, or their names? And was his guess right? He wrung his hands into the hem of his shirt, terrified of their response to his inadequate answer. He didn’t even have a name to give them, and perhaps they would take offense to a monster like himself being referred to as Seiryuu when the person using that title seemed to be a far cry from him.
But Hiryuu only smiled, flooding Seiryuu’s heart with more warmth. “I know you are Seiryuu. All of them could tell the moment they saw you, because the dragon warriors are connected by a bond stronger than their blood. But…”
“There should only be four dragon warriors,” Zeno continued, frowning. “One Hakuryuu, one Ryokuryuu, one Ouryuu… and one Seiryuu. There shouldn’t be two Seiryuus, should there be?”
The last question was directed at Abi, who only shook their head. “Don’t look at me. I’m as confused as the rest of you.”
“Maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” Guen said. “I mean, we have another bonded to us by the dragon blood!”
“Idiot,” Abi sighed, under their breath.
“Hey, what was that?!”
Hiryuu sighed, ignoring his bickering dragons in favor of focusing on Seiryuu. “You must be confused, little one. I apologize for the behavior of my friends, but know they mean well at heart. Will you please tell me your name, little one?”
Knowing he had nothing to give, Seiryuu turned his gaze to the ground and shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t have a name.”
The bickering between Guen and Abi cut off abruptly, and a shocked silence fell over the adults. Seiryuu wrung his fingers into his shirt, his hold so tight that he feared he would tear the fabric soon. He forced himself to relax his grip; if he tore this shirt, he had nothing to replace it with.
But without it, the shaking of his hands was starkly apparent.
Until warm hands encased his.
Seiryuu looked up, and his eyes met Hiryuu’s. They were soft, sad, and seemed… far too old and tired to be human. Even so, even looking like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Hiryuu offered him a comforting smile.
“Little one, none of us are angry with you. It’s okay,” he said gently.
Seiryuu nodded and sniffed. Perhaps it should’ve taken more than that to make him feel better, but for some reason, Hiryuu’s presence put him at ease.
“Let’s call you Seiryuu #1, then,” Shuten offered. Then, he stuck a thumb back at Abi. “They can be Seiryuu #2.”
Abi huffed and crossed their arms. “I am older, and I was here first. I fail to see how I would be the second Seiryuu.”
“Don’t sweat the small stuff, Seiryuu #2,” Guen laughed, throwing an arm over their shoulder in a show of brotherly affection. Abi, however, quickly shrugged him off.
“It does make things easier,” Zeno admitted. When Abi shot him a betrayed look, he only laughed and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry, Seiryuu #2.”
“Please bear with it, Abi,” Hiryuu added gently. Just a smile from him was enough to have Abi settle into disgruntled silence, apparently having accepted their fate of being Seiryuu #2.
Then, Hiryuu turned back to Seiryuu. “Seiryuu #1, then. Is it okay if we call you that?”
Seiryuu looked to Abi. They were the one who seemed upset by it, and the last thing Seiryuu wanted was to upset anyone. Their eyes met, and Abi huffed before reluctantly nodding their assent.
Seiryuu turned back to Hiryuu and nodded. “...Okay.”
The man smiled, before holding out his hand for Seiryuu. It took a moment for him to realize what Hiryuu wanted; he’d never held hands with anyone but Ao—and him, only once.
But he stretched out a hand and took Hiryuu’s anyway, because he knew he could trust this person.
Hiryuu began to lead him away, the other four dragon warriors in tow.
“Don’t worry,” Hiryuu assured. “We’ll sort this out.”
“Your big brothers will take good care of you!” Guen proclaimed, which no one actually protested.
Seiryuu, for the first time in a long time, found himself smiling beneath his mask. It was a small, fragile thing, but it was a smile nonetheless.
Among these people, Seiryuu felt safe and warm. And that was more than he could ever ask for.
-/-/-
The boy who was Seiryuu but unaware of the legacy behind that title, who all he knew called him a monster and a cursed thing for that legacy, slept soundly on the floor of a cave. The air was cold, but warm dreams chased the chill away.
The dream was a dream, but it was also a promise. For the boy who had no name, no family, and no home, this was temporary. His past as a dragon would haunt him, but his future as a dragon would save him. A red haired princess would come and find him, and then, he would have everything he could only now dream of.
So until then, he would dream, and he would hope.