Dragonsâ Cry Genesis (Part 26)
Did I or did I not say climbing a mountain at night is an irrational act? Below us was the village. Dragon Mom would be seen if she transformed there. I couldnât divulge the news about the dragons; otherwise, something might happen to the dragons. Not to mention encouraging unnecessary panic. That was why the two of us trudged through the snow that was at calf level. We grabbed onto the snow that literally froze our fingers and struggled up step by step. Â Dragon Mom trekked ahead of me. I tightly grabbed onto her belt so that I wouldnât slide down.
Dragon Mom was in a big rush. I could tell that from her erratic steps. I knew how anxious she was. She managed to feel the joy of knowing she had kin still around and went through so much to finally find them. We thought it was already over. We never expected that our dream that was finally in sight would be drowned. Dragon Mom didnât want to give up nor was she willing to admit defeat. She desperately climbed up, struggling to try and reach halfway up the mountain.
I climbed up with Mom step by step. I could feel her quivering with fear. Mom mustâve been very scared. She shouldâve been aware of what happened, but just refused to admit it. She was trying to lie to herself, yet she failed to convince herself. I didnât know how to comfort her. Words of consolation were pointless at that point. She needed to see her kin. Only then could she feel reassured. I didnât know how the village and the dragonâs valley looked. I had no clue how much damage was done by the flood. I didnât know if the dragon race was still alive or not.
The snow beneath us suddenly changed. Dragon Mom stopped for a brief moment to look down at her feet with puzzlement. She then crouched down to reach into the snow. I, too, felt something was slightly odd underfoot. The number of rocks around us had drastically decreased. There was a path that could fit two people. If we headed up then, weâd see a small, level area of land.
I brushed the snow away, revealing what was below. This snow was different to other places. It felt as though the snow there hadnât been accumulated for a long time, therefore had yet to consolidate. After moving away the thick layer of snow, I saw the land that was originally there.
The land there wasnât originally brown land but black slate. It was obvious that the black slate wasnât natural slate but the remains of human life. The moonlight illuminated the snow and black slate. It seemingly had an ice-cold aura that numbed all of my nerves.
Dragon Mom blankly stood up and slowly continued up. It seemed to be bright in front of us. It was as though a huge person smashed open a huge hole in the snow. It was a huge level entrance opened in the face of the mountain.
âI see,â I said to myself.
The area shouldâve been where the village originally was. Fortunately, they moved prior to the flood. The flood that virtually came out of thin air didnât drown their homeland. Over time, the water condensed again, becoming the layer of ice and snow that covered the original land of the village and its houses. Having said all that, it was evident that a number of houses had been washed below, leaving just the ground. The frozen village resembled frozen time. It was quite a sad sight.
Dragon Mom blankly walked over to the ruins of the anthropoids, stood there and spaced out. She looked at the condensed layer of ice and the houses that knocked down the houses. I had no idea what she was thinking, but I could sense her pain and despair from her back alone.
âItâs all right, Mom, itâs all right. This isnât that valley in question. If the flood came down from here, the area behind it may be fine. Letâs go to the rear to check it out. Letâs go to the rear, Mom. Letâs go check out the valley. Letâs go, letâs go.â
You could say that I pleaded Mom to leave. Her sadness penetrated her body through to the surface similarly to a flood. The sight of it agonised me. This place was clearly just an anthropoid village, yet Dragon Mom was as depressed as if she saw her raceâs graveyard.
I grabbed Momâs hand to lead her away. She didnât resist. Instead, she obediently turned and left with me. The Dragon valley was to the rear. Itâd soon come into sight if we went along the empty space. The dragons shouldâve been inside the valley. Alas, the path was frozen, thereby sealed; the snow blocked it. It was akin to a door of ice. We couldnât go through it.
I looked at the vacant land and the mountain path blocked by the snow. A sad solution came to mind. I looked overhead and, in a soft voice, said, âMom, transform into your dragon form.â
I looked at Mom and spoke in a calm tone: âOnce youâve transformed, fly up and scan it.â
Mom looked at the collected snow and slowly lowered her head. We already knew the answer for ourselves. I didnât want to make Mom hold it in any longer. She shouldâve felt slightly better if she transformed into a dragon in that moment. Searching for her own kinâs grave in her human form was somewhat reckless. Although we already knew what we were going to see, it was better to let Mom visit her last kinâs graves in her dragon form. Â The snow was their grave.
Dragon Mom gradually enlarged herself and then stood on the level ground. She immediately shrouded the entire space resembling a flattened span of land. I carefully climbed onto her back. Mom stretched her wings out and took flight, sweeping up a gust of snow. Her shadow contrasted the white snow in the sky. The snowflakes were akin to Momâs crystal-clear tears dropping from the sky.
The wild wind next to my air brought along snow that hit my face. I heard the sound of my scales shrinking, but I was in no mood to worry about myself. I narrowed my eyes and looked at the gradually rising mountain and also the valley, we had searched for ten days. It shouldâve been a lake by the time we arrived.
We went around the left and right of the mountain. The centre was where the dragons were supposed to be living, but it had turned into a lake of water akin to a tea drop in the mountains staring at me.
Mom silently flew. She, too, saw it but didnât comment. She didnât even cry out. She just silently flew around the huge lake. Just hours ago, Dragon Mom was cheerfully imagining what sheâd do upon meeting her kin. She excitedly told me stories about dragons. She told me what the dragon race had to pay attention to. In the end, the home we looked forward to seeing and the stars we crossed by were a lake of water.
âWhat does this mean for Dragon Mom?â I pondered.
Above us was a glistening sky. Below us was the burial of Momâs kin. The shiny stars appeared to be right in front of us. It was as though I could pluck them with my hands. The sky felt closer than home to Mom.
Mom gradually descended. Perhaps she was tired of flying. I hopped off Momâs back. Mom gradually reverted to her human form. She wore a very calm expression. She was so calm that I was afraid. She looked at the lake in front of us that was gently swishing. She didnât speak, cry or shout. She didnât roar toward the sky, either. She just looked at the pretty lake as if she was a tourist.
I went over to Momâs side. I took hold of her hand and looked at her calm face with concern. Softly, I comforted her: âMom, cry if you want. Let it out⊠I didnât think this would happen⊠I didnât think this valley would be in this state⊠Wait⊠Wait⊠Mom⊠Mom⊠It might be somewhere else. It might not be this valley⊠Mom⊠There might still be hope⊠There might beâŠâ
Mom extended forth her arms and gently hugged me. She stroked my head and whispered next to my ear in a shaky voice, âSon⊠Mommy⊠Mommy doesnât have any other family anymore⊠Theyâre gone⊠Theyâre all gone⊠Mommy only has you now⊠Youâre Mommyâs only family nowâŠ. Theyâre gone⊠Theyâre all gone⊠Mommy⊠Doesnât have any more familyâŠâ
Momâs ice-cold tears fell through the cold air and landed onto my neck. I tightly hugged her and stroked her quivering back. Voice soft, I said, âItâs all right, Mom, itâs all right. There are definitely more. Thereâs definitely some other place where they are. The dragon race didnât go extinct from war, which meant that they might not have been killed by the floods. Iâm sure theyâre still alive. Iâm sure theyâre still alive. Letâs look again, Mom. Letâs keep on looking. I can still search for a few more decades. Iâll definitely search for them with you. Even if we never find another, youâll always have me. Iâll always be your sonâŠâ
âTheyâre⊠all goneâŠ? Could the last horde of invincible dragons that ruled the continent really have sunken to the bottom of the flood? Could all of her dragon kin, be it the ones who were once with her or this group that escaped the desert, truly all be gone?â Are you saying that my Dragon Mom is forever the last dragon? Is there no place on this continent that belongs to the dragon race? Are they that against being with Mom?â I contemplated.
Roar!!! Dragon Mom couldnât hold her grief in any longer and roared out from behind me. It was such a sad roar. It was the roar of dragon, one of despair and agony. She roared with all her might. Frankly, you could say that Momâs heart had shatteredâŠ
Mom and I froze in place and looked to the sky, feeling stupefied. We looked left and right. That was a dragonâs roar; however, the voice that was seemingly responding to Momâs roar came from every directionâŠ