Chapter 1 – Tale of the Magus and the Dragons

"...And they defeated the Dragons and lived happily ever after a hundred years to come."

An elderly woman read out loudly, after which she closed the thick-covered yet colourful storybook that sat on her lap.

She was reading a fantasy story to a younger male child whose facial expression soon went from happy to sombre as the story had reached its end.

The little boy was evidently sad that the story had ended.

The 'Tale of the Magus and the Dragons' had been his favourite of all the stories that the elderly woman had ever read to him.

The little boy would constantly catch himself imagining what kind of world it would be in that piece of fiction.

"Can we read it again, grandma?" he pleaded with his grandmother in a low tone of voice that held his sincerest heart desire.

The elderly woman looked at her grandchild and smiled warmly at him as she gently played with his long black hair.

"But this is already your twelfth read, my dear Noah. Do you like the story that much?"

The little boy, Noah, nodded his head several times and a smile appeared on his face as she responded to his grandmother.

"Mmm," he muttered, still continuously bobbing his head.

"I love it very much, grandma! So please…"

His crimson eyes became extra wide and bubbly.

Those pair of adorable eyes made it hard to say no to him as he pleaded with his grandmother for another read...

The thirteenth read of the same story.

His cheerful, honest, childish spirit touched the old woman's heart.

She looked at him and smiled again, lightly pressing her reading eyeglasses over the bridge of her nose to stabilize it.

"Okay, my dear," she said as she rose from the rocking chair that was next to Noah's bed.

She pulled the blanket over the little boy and leaned in to kiss him, a gesture that Noah replicated and slightly sat up.

In his rush, he accidentally kissed her grandma in the mouth and they both smiled as the old woman kissed his forehead back and stroked his hair.

"...but not today," she said, pressing a finger on his forehead.

"We will start it all over again tomorrow, okay?"

Noah did not mind what time they would have the re-reading.

He was just happy that she had agreed to his request.

Just as the old woman was about to leave the room, the little boy began to cough—loud, harsh, chest-tearing cough.

The strain and stress it put on his small fragile body were evident in the sound of the cough and his face as well.

Worried, she turned around to watch her grandson while at the same time, looking around the room for his medicine.

Noah rubbed his chest to calm himself as the bouts of cough reduced with time.

"Have you taken your medicine, dear?"

Noah nodded in agreement.

"Yes, grandma. Not too long ago," the boy answered.

"A teaspoon of the red syrup and two pills from the black pills!" he exclaimed, reciting his prescription to the old woman.

The elderly woman faked a smile to umbrella the profound worry in her heart.

She didn't want to sadden the child, whom she was sure was sharp enough to pick even the slightest change in her mood.

The elderly woman played it out well, allowing the boy the much happiness that he could find even with the disease that was ravaging his life by the second.

"Good night, dear," the old woman said, blowing a slow kiss to Noah.

"Sleep tight and…"

"...don't let the bed bugs bite!" Noah cheerfully finished his grandmother's speech.

"Good night, grandma!"

The old woman left the room and shut the door after her.

As soon as she stepped out, her emotions went loose and overwhelmed her.

She removed her glasses as tears streamed down from the corners of her eyes.

She moved away from Noah's room and walked back to her room, sniffling and crying.

She couldn't hold it in anymore.

She couldn't bear to see the little child in her care suffer anymore.

Noah was thirteen now and was going to turn fourteen soon.

That he had even lived this long alone was a miracle.

But the old woman knew that the inevitable was still going to happen.

When Noah was diagnosed with his illness at the age of four, the grandmother had been told that it would be a divine blessing if he lived past the age of ten.

And even if that did happen, fourteen years was the known maximum age of life for such those affected with the illness.

Noah was all she had in this life.

Noah was all she loved in her long life.

If she could take years from the eighties that she had lived and the ones that remained, she would do it without any hesitation just to save her grandson.

She was willing to do anything to prolong the boy's life.

Noah's mum had died during childbirth from losing too much blood.

It was unfortunate that what had killed her was something that could have been solved, only that they couldn't afford such a level of care.

Even with the pleas they offered, the reality of life had been too harsh on her daughter.

They had barely managed to pay off the bills for the childbirth and that had cost Noah's father almost everything he had at that time.

All these memories assaulted the old woman at once and turned her into an old sack of unstable emotions.

Every time Noah showed signs of going into an acute crisis, the old woman would panic and hold her heart in her hands.

Great anxiety would grip her soul and drag her into an abyss of endless worry.

It was only natural that she would feel this way.

Her daughter—Noah's mother—who was her bundle of joy had passed on.

Noah's father, their protector, had also passed from a tragic work accident.

After his wife's death, he worked tooth and nail to make sure he provided for his mother-in-law and his newborn.

Even if it meant working multiple jobs, the young man didn't care.

As long as it would put food on their table, he would do it.

Sadly, he had to go to work sick one fateful day, and despite his mother-in-law's advice to get some rest, he refused.

Noah's father believed that if he took a few days off then his managers might deem him unfit for work and dismiss him.

That, in itself, would be more devastating for him.

With a smile, he discharged his mother-in-law's concerns and promised to return to her and his son by the end of the day.

By the end of the day, he hadn't returned and Noah's grandmother had to wait it out until the morning.

It was during this morning that another tragedy rocked her heart and soul.

A little over a year before that day, her daughter had died and now, she saw a group of people carrying the lifeless body of her son-in-law to their home, telling her that he had fallen and landed on his head.

Noah's father died on the spot, before any medical help could even reach him.

Her heart shattered into many irreparable pieces and she collapsed.

Ravaged by the memories of her tragedies, the old woman wiped her tears and said a silent prayer in her heart for the child.

—––

Noah had drifted into a deep sleep but within this realm of slumber, he was in panic, thanks to a nightmare.

He turned tirelessly on his bed as he saw several Dragons fly towards him in a hot chase.

The young boy had been too immersed in the story—Tale of the Magus and the Dragons—that he was living it out in the dream world.

"Noooo!"

He jolted up from his bed in panic.

His face was wet with sweat but that was nothing compared to how wet his pillow was right now.

Gripped by the lingering terror of his nightmare, Noah clutched his chest as it started to pound very fast, accompanied by a sharp, stabbing pain that he had just felt.

He was gasping and his breathing was getting harsher by the second.

While he still held the most control of his body, his crimson eyes shot around the room in search of his medicine bottles and finally, he saw them on a table at the corner of the room that was close to the door.

Noah tried to jump off the bed and grab the medicine as fast as he could.

He already knew what was coming and didn't want to delay acting.

He had been at death's door several times to recognise when he was there again.

In his rush, the boy slipped and fell, hitting his forehead on the carpeted floor.

His head wobbled instantly from the hard impact.

His breath ceased and he began to gasp terribly.

He couldn't shout. Not that he didn't want to, but he just couldn't.

Whenever he opened his mouth, he had no air in his lungs coupled with the intensely burning pain in his chest.

The little boy struggled, dragging his body as much as he could towards that table.

'My… medicine.'

Seeing his medicine bottles spurred him to keep trying to reach for them. Unfortunately, his motivation was not enough to push his body more than he could.

Noah soon reached his limit as his fingers grazed the foot of the table. In one last attempt to draw closer to it, he fell and didn't rise again.

"Grand…

"...ma."

An instant later, everything went pitch black.

—––

Author's Note:

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