Dragon Aster Trilogy

18: PURPOSE



“That has to be the longest I ever saw you look at a bottle without drinking it,” Urio said, as he stepped off the last step and onto the cold, stone floor of the cellar.

Hain looked up from the floor he sat on, with no bottle in hand. “I saw my kid again.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to look at him more often.”

“In his Sylvan form.”

Urio went for the bottle Hain eyed on the rack, and decided to open it for himself.

“I haven’t seen his soul since he was five...when I told him that his mother didn’t give a damn about him. He looks like an eight year old, when he’s a month younger than Gwa.”

“And you’re all upset cause the human Caelestis is responsible for curing him? Well, you suck at sulking.”

“I just hate not being able to see anything of the future. I mean it was fine when Asil was Asil—but now?” Hain said.

“So you want that girl to sprout wings and save the world, with an energy it hasn’t seen for three hundred years. Curse that Black Death for having taken our Serena in the first place.”

“You’re the dumbass who didn’t marry her, or at least read up on it.”

“Who are you calling a dumbass, dark angel? No, you instead get the brilliant idea to fall in love with a daoran instead!”

Hain sighed.

“This is all your fault. We could have died with honor, as Pack should, defending our female. But no, you just had to drag us back here from Hell, to spend the rest of our miserable lives dodging the limbo of the Aeger. If you ever die, I hope Serena spends every given moment plucking you like a duck for the roaster.”

Hain laughed, as he didn’t like the idea of such. “If it makes you happy, you can rest better knowing that I do age.” He pulled out one of his feathers from his back to show Urio as proof. “Eventually the energy gives out, and Awls turn into a poof of dust. Only on Earth we are to some degree immortal.”

“What’s the angle?” Urio asked curiously, taking the feather from Hain. He liked collecting them for his writing quills.

“Hino. He decides which of us glow on, and which of us go out.”

“And you’re reincarnated, right?”

“Nope.” Hain groaned as he used the wall to help himself back to his feet. Then he took the bottle from Urio and had a long sip. “Once it’s over, it’s over.” He looked down the hall as a phelan Custos called out a warning to him that he would soon be dragged out of the Sanctus. He picked out a few of his favorite bottles, before giving them to Urio for safe keeping. “Don’t break any. I want to be able to drink them later.”

“Where will you go?”

“Since I’ll never have the excuse of turning into a fat old dog like you, I have no choice but to just keep doing stupid things.”

“Come back alive.”

“You just make sure you get out of here before Hell hits the fan.” Hain walked past him and upstairs at that.

“Hain, wait,” Urio called after him.

Hain turned on the stairs and looked back at him. “What?”

“Have you ever thought to write a will?”

“A what? Come on, you know I can’t read and write—”

“Then I’ll write it for you, you just have to sign it.”

“You’re talking as if I’m already dead. It’s not like I have anything important to be fought over.”

“Your son.”

Hain sighed, as he forgot that Kenshe could be put on a piece of paper, too.