Episode 6
Though he had yet to fully steel his heart, though he wished for just a bit more time together, tears swiftly welled up in Leroy’s eyes at the thought. Observing him in silence, Arabel finally responded.
“No. Not today.”
“Thank goodness.”
Only then did Leroy break into a bashful smile and sniffle softly. Watching the boy, Arabel tilted her head in genuine perplexity.
“You look as though you’d burst into tears the moment you part ways with her, and yet you’re the one insisting Lymenia must leave?”
“Well… because parting is sad.”
“Then why send her away?”
“Because she’s a dragon, of course!”
“Then why are you crying?”
“…? Because if she leaves, I won’t see her for a long time.”
“Yet even knowing that, why let her go? If you just kept her here, you wouldn’t have to part and could spend more time together.”
“…Uhm…? Mother is a dragon! Daddy said she could live more freely somewhere else!”
“And your father—he doesn’t truly want to cast Lymenia out, so why does he permit it?”
Leroy stared at Arabel, bewildered. What is this endless cycle of questions? He reconsidered whether he had said something wrong. After a moment, as if realizing something, he clapped his hands together.
“It’s because I love Mommy. That’s why I’m letting her go.”
“I understand even less now.”
“Well, it can’t be helped. You don’t understand human emotions, Arabel.”
“…So I fail to grasp it simply because I’m not human?”
“Yes!”
“You claim to love her, and yet you let her go? Isn’t love for humans all about possession? How can one love and not possess?”
Arabel, to put it simply, was a dragon who had “learned love through books.” As with most dragons, she was inherently emotionless. Occasionally, mutations among their kind developed a curiosity toward such feelings—and invariably, they caused trouble. Empress Lobelia, formerly the dragon Lymenia, had once been such a case.
In any event, Arabel had studied love through literature and developed a rough theoretical understanding by observing humans. In her assessment, love for humans equated to possession. To not possess was to not love; hence, they used the term “break up.” If either side relinquished ownership, it meant love was no longer present.
Leroy slowly shook his head.
“You won’t understand this even if I explain it. You can only understand love by experiencing it.”
“…Such arrogance from a mere child.”
“If you’re curious, Arabel, why don’t you try loving someone?”
“What a terrifying notion. Are you cursing me?”
“It’s not a curse…”
Leroy looked slightly dejected. Love wasn’t supposed to be a curse. Nor was it something frightening.
“Mommy said… she was happy because she loved me.”
“She was just saying that. If she were truly happy, she would come back to us.”
“….”
Leroy sealed his lips tightly, clenched his small fists, and tugged down at his sleeves. His lips quivered; his cheeks flushed, and tears as large as pearls gathered in his wide eyes. Arabel instantly realized her misstep: Ah… I spoke too bluntly to a mere human child.
“…Are you crying?”
Leroy hastily shook his head.
“You look like you’re crying… If I’ve hurt your feelings, I apologize.”
“I’m not crying!”
After all, Leroy was nearly six years old.
“I’m mature now.”
“That so?”
“My pronunciation’s better than before, and… and I can say almost all the words now…!”
“Enough. I understand. I didn’t mean to belittle you. If you’re not hurt, then fine. But earlier, you really looked like you were about to cry. Humans cry when they’re hurt, don’t they?”
Despite his improvements in speech and vocabulary and his impending sixth birthday, Leroy still stood barely taller than Arabel’s waist. To Arabel, a dragon who had lived for centuries and likely would live for thousands more, this five-year-and-eight-month-old child’s confidence barely registered. Yet Arabel found the boy’s boldness rather endearing.
“But indeed, as you said, for a child of five years and eight months, you’re quite mature.”
“Of course!”
“Is that so obvious?”
“Yes! I’m the crown prince of the Orizon Empire!”
As Leroy declared this, Arabel stared at him gently. Almost involuntarily, she reached out and softly stroked the boy’s hair, round like a chestnut. Leroy’s eyes widened in surprise, gazing at Arabel. Just as startled by her own action, she hastily withdrew her hand. At that moment, she sensed something and turned toward the door.
It burst open—Lymenia had arrived.
“Arabel?”
“It’s been a while, Lymenia.”
“I didn’t expect even you to be here.”
“Prima dragged me along. But now that you’re here, I’ll take my leave. Should we meet again, Leroy, until then.”
Without even offering a proper greeting to Lymenia, whom she hadn’t seen in 200 years, Arabel exited the room as though all her business had concluded. Lobelia glanced toward the space Arabel had vacated but didn’t seem particularly disappointed.
“Did Arabel say anything to you, Leroy?”
“Umm… no! She just stayed with me!”
Leroy thought it best not to complicate matters. Deciding it was wiser and more mature, he resolved not to recount their previous conversation.
“But Arabel—”
“Before that, please hug me, Mommy!”
Though Leroy was now five years and eight months old and had grown more composed and mature, he was still, in the end, just a child. Lobelia couldn’t bear to press further when her son clung to her for comfort. Smiling, she lifted and embraced him.
“Prima must’ve had a reason for bringing Arabel… Dragons do not descend into the human world without purpose. Especially not those two. Prima, the seer; Arabel, the discerner of truth and lies. With such powers, they rarely interfere with human affairs. They wouldn’t come down merely for a visit.”
“Prima saw something in the future. That’s why she gave me this orb. Arabel deliberately sought out Leroy. Why? What are they trying to say?”
Still holding Leroy in her arms, Lobelia rolled the orb in her hand. Its surface glinted in the sunlight, catching Leroy’s eye. Reaching out, he gently grasped her hand.
“What’s this? Wow, it’s so pretty!”
“Do you like it, Leroy?”
“Yes!”
“…If you don’t break it, you may have it.”
“Really? I can?”
“Of course.”
Lobelia handed him the orb. Pleased, Leroy held it carefully with both hands and ran over to the window. There, he let the sunlight pass through it. As the light refracted, rainbows appeared, and little beams danced across the ceiling.
“Did you really give the orb to Lymenia? Why?”
Arabel questioned Prima, her face clearly showing disbelief. Having been dragged down without warning, she still didn’t fully grasp what Prima was planning. If a seer like Prima had gone to the trouble of bringing her, something significant must have been afoot.
“She hasn’t even fully regained her powers as a dragon. Giving her something that immense while she’s still unstable—how do you expect her to handle it?”
Arabel shook her head, convinced Lymenia would fail again—that she’d once more abandon it all herself. But Prima’s expression was strangely unreadable. Arabel wondered if Prima was merely playing another of her games.
“Arabel. So… you saw Rior, didn’t you?”
“I did. A truly vile old man. Of all the humans I’ve encountered—cruel, twisted beings they are—he was a unique breed: wicked, ruthless, and utterly base.”
Arabel clicked her tongue in disgust.
The former emperor of the Orizon Empire was, in her eyes, a particularly loathsome specimen of humanity. She had never held humans in high regard to begin with, but even by those low standards, he had managed to repulse her.
“…Did you send me to the boy knowing that, Prima? If so, that was a miscalculation. When it comes to such truths, it’s better for Leroy to learn them early. In the long run, it’s in his best interest.”
“It all depends on who tells him the truth.”
“You claim not to interfere in human matters. Are you telling me you’re feeling sympathy for the child?”
“I see the future. I perceive countless branching paths. If I know which is the best option, wouldn’t it be irresponsible to let him fall into the worst one?”
Arabel shook her head once more.
“You meddle too much, Prima.”
“Well, whether it’s meddling or not… time will tell.”
Arabel chose not to argue further. She understood that Prima always had her reasons.
“Still, Arabel. What did you think of the boy?”
If that was her reason, it was far too frivolous. Arabel thought for a moment before finally confessing:
“Strange.”
“Strange?”
“I found myself… petting his head. Without thinking. It felt soft. Well, I suppose that’s natural—he is fuzzy.”
“…A truly novel observation.”
“Other than that, I didn’t feel much.”
Arabel shrugged. Though she claimed to discern truth in all things, she seemed unaware of the truth within herself. Prima alone recognized what her expression betrayed—and what that might one day mean for dragons as a whole.
As Arabel passed by, Prima called after her:
“Arabel. Do you remember the tale of the First God… and the First Dragon?”
