Another Life, Another Me

Special: A Dragon's Wings

Ace's POV

Rain fell that day. It fell on the day of my father's death.  

Why must he have died? 

I stared at his corpse on the ground and then to the dozens of others surrounding us. 

But each of those around us didn't mourn my father's death. Instead, they laughed and flapped their wings in joy. Why?

However, at the time, I couldn't think of anything other than that the rain was cold. 

I took one last glance at my father and flew away. 

According to the other dragons, my father and I were strange. 

Unlike the many dragons around us, we had no wings. We glided through the skies without the bulky wings of the others. 

We were faster. We were stronger. But instead of treating us kindly, they treated us like outcasts.

"Foolish. They are all foolish," I spoke in anger. 

They would never understand our struggles. 

But now, there was no one to share my pain. My father was killed by the humans he trusted and my mother committed suicide years ago. 

There is no one left.

Everything is foolish. 

A few months later, I was caught in a human trap. 

But I didn't care. 

There was no purpose for my freedom anyway. 

The humans pinned me upside down by my tail. They chained my legs together and made me immobilized. They hung my tail on a metal bar and carried me in a carriage.

"Wow! Lucky us! We caught a baby dragon so easily! God must be on our sides today," a man spoke joyfully.

"And it wasn't even guarded by any adult dragon!" Another human gleefully spoke with sickening snickers.

"God," huh? If I recall, the main god of this world was Gadia. 

Gods. If there really are gods, they must have really hated me. 

I bet they laughed when father and I were ridiculed. 

Did they celebrate when my mother committed suicide? 

It must have been funny for them when my father's intestines were ripped out. 

Maybe they hoped for more of our pain. Maybe they were disappointed that I was alive. 

Right? 

All of my pain...how will you make it up to me, you foolish gods?

That night, I slept in the cold. 

Actually, I lied. 

I couldn't sleep. 

I spent the next few hours in the quiet, thinking about my mother and father. I recalled something my mother told me once when attempting to make me fall asleep. 

.

.

"Shh...Sleep tight, son," my mother said in her lovely voice.

"No! Tell me a story!" I said. 

"Do you promise to go to bed if I do?"

"...Yeah?"

"Hmm...Okay. I'll tell you a story about your father."

"Father?"

"Yes...he was very rowdy as a child."