An Immortal Love

Chaos Descends

Yijun finds it hard to blink. So does trying to speak. Surely the benevolent dragons, in their most profound and eternal wisdom, didn't send the ultimate disaster to solve a series of disasters? He was told often enough that dragons can remake the world at will, but the stories he heard never speaks of them as being evil.

"What?" he finally croaks out.

The dragon sighs and shakes his hand off his arm to continue weaving his spell. "I am the herald of Death, the complement of Life, the two forces driving the World's cycle. I am the Reaper that appears when life is fully grown and gleans the world anew to prepare for the next cycle."

Yijun knows the dragon is speaking words but somehow it's not connecting in his brain. His words are too deep for him to understand. All he gets from it is that the dragon is bad and he ignores the rest to focus on the more important part. "Why are you ending the life of the villagers?" he asks.

"It is the Will of the World."

Will of the World. Heaven's Will. Which is to mean the will of the dragons for dragons rule the heavens. Before his trip to the holy mountaintop, no one has ever met dragons face to face before, nor even talk with them so of course Heaven's will is not clearly explained. During that trip, he only expects to pay respects at the peak and give offerings. While he noticed then that the path to the top was abnormally long, he never expected to encounter dragons at all.

Heaven's Will is invoked whenever any unexplained phenomena happens. It is not for any mortal to question. But now there is a dragon around, he may have a chance to know what it is.

"What is the Will of the World and why does that village have to die for it?"

The dragon clicks his tongue in irritation. "It is a matter beyond your mortal comprehension, something I will not humor you about. Now get out of my sight."

Reading the dragon's unmerciful expression, Yijun knows there is no chance to change his mind. His shoulders sag at the knowledge of the village's impending doom. "Will they all really die?"

"If they have no ability to save themselves, then yes," the dragon snaps at him.

Yijun cocks his head at his reply. "If I were to tell them about what will happen-"

"I care not a whit about what you do," the dragon snarls. "If you do not move , I will kick you."

Yijun looks up with hope in his eyes and moves a little out of the way. "How long before your spell finishes?"

"An hour," the dragon answers through gritted teeth.

Yijun gives him a nod then dashes down the hill. His lungs burn and his legs scream from the cuts of the grasses as he runs but he does not stop. He has only one thought in his mind and that is a wish not to see again the destruction of his village.

The village is an insignificant one, made of mud houses and thatched roofs with fields of rice paddies all round, golden with dry stalks of rice. The villagers are not much to talk about either, only being humble farmers with no hope of rising above their class. They dress modestly with homespun wool and their children crawl on mud floors while pigs and chickens roam the yard. Their lives are a dull cycle of planting rice and harvesting them. They faithfully give offerings to the gods, though the gods never made their presence known. With such unremarkable characteristics and inoffensive habits, it is a wonder why they are targeted for destruction.

At the moment, they are not pre-occupied with their dull lives, but rather on their animals who seem to have gone berserk.

"What is the matter with you?" a peasant woman asks in exasperation as she stands in front of her pig pen, hands on her hips, watching her pigs squeal to high heavens like they are being butchered. The chickens and geese are long gone, flying to who knows where. Buffaloes on the fields bellow; she jumps, her hair pin falling out of the greasy bun of her hair. She shivers at the unnerving sound and rubs at her arms to warm them from the sudden cold. Their place rarely gets a cold front, and she looks up nervously at the snake venom sky.