IIAD | Chapter 2.8

After a brief silence, Baran ordered them to do so. Then, he asked if anyone had left the castle recently. The knights hesitated, glancing at one another uneasily. This time of day saw frequent comings and goings, but there was one thing that stood out—a lone man on a fine horse had slipped through the crowd of merchants, only to break away the moment he passed the gate.

That man had to be Nika.

When he pressed for a description, his suspicions were all but confirmed. It was easier to sneak out than in—there was always stricter inspection for those entering the castle, whereas in the bustling flow of people, slipping out unnoticed would’ve been simple.

Baran bit his lip and spurred his horse forward, galloping across the farmland and through the outer checkpoint. The dry wind bit into his skin, leaving his cheeks flushed red and chapped.

‘I’ve imagined the end of this relationship more times than I can count.’

Baran thought to himself.

‘But never like this.’

── .✦

As Nika rode aimlessly in a single direction, raindrops began to fall. It was the first rain in a long while. The black clouds rolling in overhead suggested this wasn’t going to be a light shower. The damp air chilled him as the temperature abruptly dropped, sending a sharp sting across his exposed skin. He could feel the scales on his cheek clinging tightly from the moisture. Pulling on the reins, he brought his horse to a halt, running a rough hand along its tense neck to calm it down.

“I haven’t ridden that far, but I’ve already come so far.”

When he turned back, Taltamio Castle, which had loomed so overwhelmingly large around him for so long, had already shrunk to the size of his thumbnail. It was laughable, yet there was a sharp pang in his chest. Just a day ago, staying there for a long, long time had been his only wish.

‘I should end this soon.’

That voice rang in his ears—the voice he had once thought he loved beyond reason. Just hearing the brief echo of it was enough to make his heart tremble violently.

‘Was it really this easy? Was it really something I could just sever the moment I decided to?’

A sudden wave of fatigue washed over his limbs. Baran’s cold, detached voice sliced through his chest over and over, its remnants still ringing in his ears. Feeling lost, Nika darted his eyes around like a child searching for an answer. Summer had ended, and the night was falling faster—already, the surroundings had grown dark.

‘Where do I go now?’

Raindrops left scattered marks on the parched ground, gradually forming an uneven pattern. The heavy downpour seeped into Nika’s thighs, soaking through his firm grip on the saddle. The clothes Baran had personally ordered to be prepared for him were now drenched and ruined. For some reason, the sight of it filled him with an indescribable feeling.

Soon, the rain thickened, drenching him entirely. He swept his wet black hair back from his face, his eyes sinking into deep darkness.

‘Where… to whom?’

His mind drifted in a daze. The sudden realization of having no place to return to sent a tremor through his chest. Nika quickly convinced himself it was just the cold that made him shiver. It wasn’t—absolutely wasn’t—because of a sense of loss. He told himself that over and over.

With steady hands, he grasped the reins once more. His body instinctively remembered how to move. The horse obeyed, strong legs pushing forward into a gallop. The muffled sound of hooves kicking up wet earth echoed dully through the rain.

Most things in the world eventually tire out after exerting enough force. But the rain, pouring down in relentless sheets, showed no such mercy. Nika tilted his head back, staring at the sky as if it had been punched through, letting an endless cascade fall. He slowed his horse to a stop.

Beyond the overgrown thicket, untouched by human hands, he spotted the entrance to a cave. His sharp vision had caught sight of a dry shelter—just what he needed. He decided to rest there for the night, or at least until the rain let up. Getting pelted by raindrops that felt like tiny blows to the skin wasn’t an ideal alternative.

The cave had a wide-open entrance, which was a disadvantage, but the interior was unexpectedly spacious. At the very least, it was large enough to bring his horse inside. As he scouted around, checking for any signs of animal presence, he noticed a wooden box tucked into a corner. Upon opening it, he found flint, dried rations wrapped in paper, and some musty-smelling clothing—leftovers from hunters who must have used this place as a temporary camp.

Nika spent a long time trying to strike a fire. The method came to him naturally, as if he had done it countless times before. The saddlebags on his horse contained simple camping tools, including a piece of iron shaped like a horseshoe and a flint stone.

It was a damp, miserable struggle, but after countless tries, a tiny, smoky ember finally flickered to life. Slowly, the red glow within the tinder grew, forming a small flame. As the warm glow spread through the cave, his nervous horse let out a long, uneasy neigh.

Nika stripped off his wet clothes, wringing them out. The soft fabric, though comfortable to wear, crumpled pitifully under his rough handling. He spread the garments near the fire to dry, then let the warmth seep into his cold skin.

Even as he sat there, he couldn’t stop thinking about Baran. Why had things ended up like this? The question repeated endlessly in his mind.

Eventually, a thought occurred to him—one he wished he hadn’t had.

Maybe I should have just kept quiet and stayed where I was.

Once he started blaming himself, it was impossible to stop.

‘If I had just smiled innocently without questioning or doubting Baran, I wouldn’t have lost my place. Baran would have kept whispering sweet lies with that beautiful face, telling me he loved me. He would have kissed these disgusting lips, held these rough, ugly hands, and told me I was special. Just like always.’

What did it matter if it was a lie? There were such things as benevolent lies in the world. Even if the words were completely false, if they kept Nika going, then they had meaning. And the only person in the world who could grant him such lies was Baran Taltamio. No one else. Because Nika was far too disgusting, far too repulsive, to be truly loved.

‘It’s humiliating. So humiliating.’

His breathing grew unsteady.

‘My chest… or is it my stomach? It feels so heavy and painful. Am I even breathing properly right now? My head is spinning, and my whole body is cold.’

As his drenched body slowly dried, his emotions, which had been burning hot, gradually cooled. And with that cooling came fear. He was truly alone. He had always been alone, but after spending time with Baran, he had lost all immunity to loneliness.

The emptiness left behind by something once tasted but now taken away squeezed at his heart. He regretted running away so thoughtlessly. If he had just asked Baran a single question before leaving, wouldn’t he have gotten a reason? Had his own impatience and misunderstandings clouded his judgment? The more he thought about it, the more the blame turned inward.

‘He must have left by now. It seemed urgent. Someone like me wouldn’t have been worth his time. Even if I go back… just as Baran said, I wouldn’t see him again for at least half a month.’

Nika looked up at the sleek, rain-soaked horse shaking out its mane. It was a fine steed, unmistakably so.

‘But I stole the horse. There’s no going back. Baran must be sick of me by now. It’s one thing to be a dragonkin, but an arrogant, thieving one? He wouldn’t tolerate that.’

A droplet slid off his face, splashing onto the ground. It wasn’t rain—there was no rain inside the cave. What was it, then?

Touching his face, Nika belatedly realized he was crying.

—

He must have dozed off. He had a strange dream.

Nika stood in the middle of a battlefield, dust swirling around him. Behind him, he shielded a woman with striking red hair. The current Nika had no recollection of the emotions or the context of that moment, but one thing was clear—he had been desperately protecting her.

“She’s that precious to you?”

A man stood before him, speaking.

“That much?”

‘Who is he? I can’t see his face clearly.’

The voice was familiar, but the face wouldn’t come to mind. That must have meant Nika had never considered him important.

He stared at the silhouette of the man beyond the dust cloud, deep in thought. When he felt a tight grip on his elbow, he turned to see the beautiful woman looking at him with tense, anxious eyes. Her expression filled him with equal unease.

A dry, mirthless chuckle echoed in the wind.

Looking again, he saw that the man was holding a sword—its blade glinting cold and sharp. The tip was pointed directly at Nika and the woman. He must have been an enemy, part of the knights surrounding them.

Yet something was off. There was no hostility in the man’s stance.

And then, just as expected, the man lowered his blade.

That same dry laugh rang again.

“You really are relentless.”

And then, he turned his sword—not toward Nika, but toward the knights encircling him. One by one, he cut them down.

—

Nika’s eyes snapped open. His mind was still fogged with remnants of the dream. The echo of that hollow voice, the desperate gaze of the woman—they filled his thoughts. But the moment was shattered by a noise from outside.

His horse, sensitive to sound, perked its ears and let out a nervous snort, lips quivering. The firelight only extended so far, leaving the outside world pitch dark. But beyond the cave’s entrance, the rain still roared.

Nika rose to his feet and cautiously peered outside.

Dogs. No, they sounded wilder. If they weren’t stray dogs, they could be wolves. Either way, they were beasts that roamed in packs, known for attacking travelers. And they were right outside the cave.

Did the fire attract them?

Focusing, he could pick up more than just the sounds of animals. There was something else.

Metal clashing.

Ragged breathing.

Footsteps.

Someone else was out there.

The pack of dogs wasn’t barking and closing in on Nika—it was tearing into some unfortunate traveler instead, making all that ruckus. Nika hesitated, gripping nothing but empty air. He had no weapon. If he rushed in, he’d be defenseless. Pressing his back against the cave wall, he cautiously observed the scene outside.

The fire inside flickered just enough to cast a faint glow past the wide entrance, illuminating the chaos beyond.

The traveler fighting off the starved wild dogs staggered, soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging pitifully to his frame. And somehow… that red hair looked familiar. The way his lean arm swung his sword, the way he moved—it was unmistakable.

“Baran.”

Nika murmured, lips trembling. His voice was softer than the rain pattering against the ground.

Yet even through the distance, as he was fending off the beasts, Baran turned his gaze straight toward him.

“My Nika.”