Into the Woods

Zmey, instead of replying right away, took a few seconds to ponder what could cause that kind of question. He replied in a straightforward manner:

"Yeah, something like that."

"How much did you forget? How many years back?"

"Forgot a lot. Most especially…"

Aura cut in. "… What about why you carried the burden of an emperor? And… and cultivated desperately?"

Her tone took on a more sober quality. And, as if holding back some emotions, she asked those questions with great caution.

Zmey creased his brows. He looked at her for a split second. She was becoming aggressive without warning. She was missing out on the honorifics unlike ever before.

Still, he replied. "Stop at that point. Even if we're friends, you're still one burden that stresses me to the core. The least you can do is follow my orders."

She looked at him with a mix of something. But Zmey knew what not to do. Memories surfaced. The real Ashbane would never submit or be nice. He slowly came to the realisation of this.

He must continue acting fake to make everything real.

Zmey looked away from her. His pace washed past her and when a few metres behind, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "It's time for you to return to the realm…"

Aura intoned, "I'm confused about your true identity."

Zmey's brows creased. But he asked nothing.

"You don't seem real anymore," Aura added, her tone sober yet frank. "A few days ago, you surprised me with your kindness. But now, you're who you used to be. An emotionless emperor."

She turned around, meeting Zmey's back. She eased the tension in her jaw. "I suspect you are someone else inside the real emperor. I suggested you had amnesia on purpose.

You're likely trying to appear as the real emperor; that's why I've figured out a flaw in you…"

Zmey cut in with a mumble, more like a groan. "Round and bright, the moon takes flight, lighting up the starry night. Wish and dream, the moon will hear, bringing magic far and near."

Aura's eyes widened a little. She had a slight look of astonishment as well. She clenched her fist as Zmey turned around. He met her gaze, frankness washing over him.

"We always sang that when we were little dragons. I told you, Aura DrakeBorn. I might have lost my memory. But, I didn't lose that of a friend. I value them most in this world.

You talk about my strange behaviour. Then what about you?"

Aura swallowed.

"To other people, you're stern and cold. But you behave like a cheerful little kid around me," Zmey stated. "That may not be necessary anymore. We don't need to see each other any more.

My Blood Oath severs the lives of those who go against promises. For you have made the oath with me, you're bound to protect the Infernosphere with your all.

I swear on whosoever made my life… I won't let you off, even if I have lost all my power. When I live my dream life, you must, as you promised, defend the Infernosphere to the death.

I'm no hero. I never have been and don't want to either.

This would be the last time we would meet…"

"Have you ever taken yourself seriously?" Aura cut in. Her chest tightened, and she clenched her fist with force. "Even after lots of effort you make to do things, you're always indifferent.

You blame yourself whenever you collapse. Because it affords you extra time to rest, slowing you down in becoming as powerful as you want to be.

You should be proud of yourself and stop sending people away from you. Even if you do that a lot, you can't cut ties with me either. I'm the only one you have… and you're the only one for me, too. Just…"

Zmey interrupted.

"You need me, but I do not."

He could see the toll that statement had on Aura, but he didn't hold back. One should make a sacrifice for his peace. Afterwards, he exited the house.

He followed smoke wafting from the other side of the house, alongside the savoury aroma of meat and stew. He wished he had time like everyone else to waste on eating.

For him, time was something one shouldn't fumble with until it slipped by.

He found the woman at the side of the house. At first, when she looked at him, he could see the ease in her eyes, as if thinking he was finally there to have her soup.

And also, to take a walk, as she had said. Zmey later told her about leaving because he had important things to do. Already, it was clear she owned the house.

Having seen the ointments inside, he was sure she treated his wounds. He extended his gratitude to her, but she replied he owed that to someone else.

Her response to his question was simple – "thank the kid on the roof."

She talked no more. On the roof? It was then that he noticed the style of that house. Just like most of them when he was Orin Stonewood, and it had a roof where he always had rice balls and wine with his friend.

His friend owned the house. He always had a good tolerance for those drinks, but Mann never did.

Zmey raised his eyebrows. He searched the exterior part of the house until he found a sturdy ladder. Then he climbed to the roof. There, he saw him.

The same guy he had cussed for rescuing him from the villagers was there. He lay flat, staring at the morning sky. It seemed he enjoyed the moment in that way.

Zmey knew it. The more he slacks off about his reincarnation, the more hopeful he becomes about his freedom. It seemed that the ritual curse had made him like that.

But Zmey knew the perfect answer – it was his stupidity.

Afterwards, he sat for some moments beside him. For a few seconds. And in that meantime, did he apologise for being stern and ungrateful?

He told him that something had enraged him, making him indifferent to the person who saved his life. Nero remained silent until Zmey was about to climb down the ladder.

He had said, "Care for a drink?" with his expression shifting from complete frankness to a boyish quality. But Zmey had replied, saying he wished for some rice balls with it, but only if he had time.

He then told Nero he would visit some other time to do that, although an edge to his tone betrayed his wording. There was no other time…

***

Zmey Ashbane had expected Aura DrakeBorn to protest his solo trip into the mountains.

She had always cared a lot for his initial self. But… at a point, he imagined if he were still sane. How would she still care about him after all he had said?

Wouldn't it hurt her to hear him say she's a liability? Among those who stress him and never needed them. And even threatening her with his cursed Blood Oath?

No; if she persisted, it meant she also had an ulterior motive for forming a relationship.

But even the heavens would likely curse her if she returned to such a guy. A kill-with-words one. An ingrate. And a quite monstrous one.

'I have things to take care of on my own, so it's not a bad idea to avoid her…'

Zmey thought. His movement proved forceful with every successful one. A hefty amount of snow blanketed the land. His shoes sank as he moved on, leaving irregular prints behind him.

He clutched the black top closer to his body as the wind howled, chills wrapping around his entirety.

He should have got a woollen cloak instead of this soft black top.

The wind resisted his forward movement. His face grew paler under the cold, his lips chapped a bit.

He climbed a narrow path between a colony of poplar trees. They had dark, diamond-shaped marks. In the deeper parts of the colony, he saw birch trees too.

Zmey winced as the chill surged through him.

Flash!

He paused as he heard that. He attempted to turn around. But a sharp-pointed object jabbed into his neck. This was to knock him out immediately. But they got the wrong guy!

He turned around in that instant. The wind continued to…