Shuurai
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Chapter 117
🕑 Added 2025-07-14 13:40:22 +0000 UTCIrene followed the attendant through corridors that felt both familiar and foreign, her footsteps echoing on the polished stone floors. The castle felt smaller than she remembered, or perhaps she had simply grown used to grander things. The walls were lined with portraits of her ancestors, their painted eyes seeming to follow her as she passed.
"Princess Irene," the attendant said as they approached the throne room's massive oak doors. "Your mother has been waiting."
Princess. The word still felt strange after so long. She had been so many things since then – queen, general, monster, mother. But here, in this place, she was simply a girl who still believed in the coexistence of humans and dragons.
The doors opened, and Irene stepped into the throne room she had once known so well. And there, seated on the throne with perfect posture and wearing a crown, was her mother.
Queen Isabella looked exactly as Irene remembered her – elegant, composed, with the same crimson hair that Irene had inherited. But there was something in her mother's eyes that the young Princess Irene had never noticed before. Worry. Fear, carefully hidden behind royal dignity.
"Mother," Irene said, offering a perfect curtsy. The movement came naturally, muscle memory from a time when such things mattered.
"My dear daughter," Queen Isabella said, her voice warm but strained. "Please, sit with me. We need to discuss the reports from our scouts."
Irene approached the smaller chair beside the throne, the one that had been placed there for when she would eventually rule. Her mother dismissed the attendants with a wave, and suddenly they were alone in the vast chamber.
"There are disturbing news from the western continent," her mother began, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Dragons attacking human settlements. Entire villages burned to ash."
Dragons. Even hearing about it at this time sent a chill through Irene's soul. She knew what was coming. She had lived through it once already – the Dragon Civil War that would change everything.
"But surely our alliance with Belserion and the other dragons here in Dragnof proves that coexistence is possible," young Princess Irene said, just as she had all those centuries ago. "The western dragons must simply be misguided."
Queen Isabella's expression grew grave. "I pray you're right, my child. But we must be prepared for the possibility that this conflict will reach our shores. Belserion has already expressed his willingness to fight alongside us, should the need arise."
Irene wanted to scream. She wanted to tell her mother that Belserion would die in that war, that creating Dragon Slayer magic would corrupt her very soul, that everything they knew and loved would burn despite their best efforts. But she was trapped in this memory, forced to play out the same scene that had started her long descent into darkness.
"What would you have me do, Mother?" she heard herself asking.
"For now, continue your studies in enchantment magic," Queen Isabella said. "Your abilities grow stronger every day. But I also want you to spend more time with Belserion. Learn from him. Understand the dragons' perspective on what's happening in the west."
If only her mother had known what that understanding would eventually cost her.
"I will not fail you," Princess Irene said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She had said them with such conviction once, believing she could protect everyone through sheer determination and righteous intent.
Queen Isabella smiled, but worry lines remained etched around her eyes. "I know you won't, my dear. You have the heart of a true queen."
The heart of a true queen. Irene almost laughed at the bitter irony. What good was a queen's heart when it slowly turned to stone? What use was royal blood when it became tainted with dragon magic?
As if summoned by her dark thoughts, commotion erupted outside the throne room. Heavy footsteps, urgent voices, the sound of armored guards rushing through the halls. A familiar dread settled in Irene's stomach.
The doors burst open, and Belserion himself entered in his human form – tall, dignified, with the same sage-like bearing she remembered. But his usually calm expression was etched with grave concern.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing deeply to Queen Isabella before turning to Irene. "Princess. I bring urgent news from the west."
Here it comes, Irene thought. The moment that would set everything in motion.
"The western dragons have begun moving east," Belserion continued. "They're not just attacking isolated settlements anymore. They're organizing, marching as an army. And they're heading directly for the kingdoms that support human-dragon coexistence."
Queen Isabella rose from her throne, her face pale but resolute. "How long do we have?"
"Perhaps a month, maybe less," Belserion replied grimly. "Your Majesty, I must ask... will you allow me to fight alongside your forces? My power could make the difference in protecting Dragnof."
"Of course," Queen Isabella said without hesitation. "You are not merely our ally, Belserion. You are family."
Family. The word hit Irene like a physical blow. Belserion had been like a second father to her, wise and patient, always ready with counsel or comfort. And she had convinced him to give her his power, turning her into the very weapon that would eventually lead to his death.
"There is... another possibility," young Princess Irene said, and both her mother and Belserion turned to look at her. She knew she was about to speak the words that would damn them all, but she couldn't stop herself. The memory demanded its due.
"What if there was a way for humans to gain the power to fight dragons on equal terms?" she continued. "What if we could create magic that would allow us to slay dragons?"
Belserion's eyes widened in shock. "Princess, surely you don't mean—"
"I do," Irene said, her voice growing stronger with conviction she no longer felt. "You could enchant your magic onto me, couldn't you? Grant me the power of a dragon while keeping my human form?"
"Irene, no," Belserion said, his voice filled with alarm. "Such magic would be untested, dangerous. We have no idea what effects it might have on a human body."
But Irene could see in his eyes that he was already considering it. The tactical advantage was too great to ignore.
"If it meant protecting our people, protecting the coexistence we've built here," she pressed on, "wouldn't it be worth the risk?"
Queen Isabella looked between her daughter and their dragon ally, torn between pride at her daughter's courage and fear for her safety.
"The decision is mine to make," Irene said firmly. "I am the heir to this kingdom. The future of our people rests on my shoulders."
And with those words, she sealed her fate. Belserion would agree. The magic would work, after a fashion. She would become the first Dragon Slayer, powerful enough to fight the western dragons.
But the cost... the cost would be everything.
As the memory began to shift around her, moving toward the fateful moment when Belserion would grant her his power, Irene felt tears streaming down her face. She had thought she was being noble, self-sacrificing. She had believed that power was the answer to every problem.
She had been so young. So naive. So certain that she could bear any burden for the greater good.
If only she had known that some prices are too high to pay, no matter how noble the cause.
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I opened my eyes to the familiar sound of an alarm clock buzzing. The harsh, electronic beeping that had haunted my mornings for years. I was lying in a bed that was too small, in a room that was too cramped, staring at a ceiling with a water stain in the corner that I'd never bothered to fix.
My old apartment. The one I'd lived in before... before everything changed.
I sat up slowly, my body feeling strange. Weaker. Smaller. I looked down at my hands – normal human hands without the calluses from training or the subtle glow of power that had become so natural to me. These were the hands of a twenty-something office worker who spent too much time at a computer and not enough time living.
I could shatter this illusion in an instant if I wanted to. Even now, I could feel my true power humming beneath the surface, barely contained by the trial's magic. One flex of my strength, one call to my abilities, and this entire construct would collapse like paper in a hurricane.
But I chose not to.
This trial was meant to test the heart, to force someone to confront their deepest fears and regrets. I could easily overpower it, but that would defeat the purpose. If I was going to prove myself worthy to Kira and Jue, I needed to face this honestly.
Besides, I was confident I could pass it. Whatever this trial threw at me, I had the strength to overcome it.
I sat up slowly, allowing myself to feel the weakness of this human body.
It was... strange, feeling so limited again.
The room was exactly as I remembered it. Cluttered desk with an old laptop, stack of bills I'd been avoiding, empty energy drink cans scattered around. Sunlight filtered through blinds that hung crooked because I'd never cared enough to fix them.
God, this place was depressing. No wonder I'd been so eager to escape it.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the alarm was still buzzing. I reached over and slammed the snooze button, just like I had a thousand times before.
But this time was different. This time, I remembered what came after this life. I remembered strength, purpose, people who mattered to me. I remembered Irene.
The thought of her should have sent a sharp pain through my chest, should have made me doubt the reality of our relationship. But it didn't. Even in this illusion, even with my memories of my old life trying to convince me otherwise, I knew with absolute certainty that she was real.
I stood up and walked to the bathroom, catching sight of myself in the mirror. The face looking back at me was older, more average-looking and black hair that I'd never bothered to style properly.
This was who I used to be. A nobody. A background character in his own life.
My phone buzzed with a text from my boss, asking if I was coming in today. Right. The job.
I used to live for weekends, for the brief escape of video games and anime. For fantasies about being someone important, someone powerful, someone who mattered. I'd daydream about saving the world, about being the hero of my own story.
And then, somehow, impossibly, it had actually happened.
The trial was probably expecting me to despair now, to question whether everything I'd experienced was real. To wonder if I was just a delusional office worker who'd created an elaborate fantasy world to cope with his pathetic existence.
Nice try.
But I wasn't that weak anymore.
I know who I am now.
The room seemed to flicker for a moment, the illusion wavering as if surprised by my confidence.
"You want to test my heart?" I asked the empty room. "Here's what's in my heart: I love the woman I'm going to marry. I'm proud of the strength I've gained and the people I've saved. I don't regret leaving this life behind, because this wasn't really living at all."
The apartment began to shake around me, reality bending as the trial struggled to maintain its hold.
"I chose to experience this trial properly, but that doesn't mean I'm trapped by it," I said firmly. "I know the difference between who I was and who I am. And I'm not ashamed of either version."
The illusion was cracking now, showing glimpses of the temple chamber beyond.
"Show me something that actually challenges me," I said with a grin. "Because this? This is just a reminder of how far I've come."
