Making things right P1
For Tasuke, the shrine was a sanctuary, a place of peace untouched by the burdens of the world. But when his father takes him into the depths of a cavern, he discovers the horrifying truth of his family’s legacy. A dragon lies bound, its body scarred, its suffering stretching across generations. His father calls it a sacred duty. Tasuke sees only cruelty. Now, he must choose—follow his family’s will or make things right.
"I think it's about time you've learned of our family secret."
My father's words hang in the air, leaving me confused and uncertain. Family secret? In all my years of training to become our shrine's priest, I had never heard of any secret being passed down through our lineage.
"I don't understand. Is this part of being a priest here?" I ask, searching his face for any hint of what this secret might entail.
His expression remains stoic, betraying nothing. Without answering my question, he rises from his seat and gestures for me to follow. Seeing no reason to object, I fall into step behind him as we make our way out of the shrine and towards the back. The crisp autumn air greets us, a reminder of the approaching winter as the leaves begin to cascade from the trees.
Maintaining the shrine's cleanliness has been my responsibility for quite some time now, but as we venture past the treeline, an unfamiliar sensation washes over me. To be honest, I had always been skeptical of the tales I was told during my training—stories of spirits and demons. These were things I knew only through childhood stories, never from personal experience.
The truth is, I chose to become a priest because I relished the solitude. Taking care of the shrine and being alone with nothing but the wind for company brought me a sense of contentment. While people occasionally visited or we held small festivals, the majority of my time was spent immersed in nature, free from the worries of the modern world. I had attended school and was well-versed in the latest technology, but in the end, I found myself drawn back to this peaceful existence.
However, as the forest canopy grows denser, the light begins to fade, and my sense of comfort dissipates. I have rarely ventured this deep into the forest before, and as my father lights a lantern to guide us further, a growing unease settles in the pit of my stomach. Still, I press on, following him as we traverse creeks, hills, and thick brush.
After an hour of hiking, we arrive at the side of a mountain, where a large wooden door is built into the rock face. Massive chains crisscross the entrance, and a chilling realization strikes me: these chains are not meant to keep anyone out, but rather to keep something in.
"Once you see it, you'll understand," my father breaks the silence as he unlocks the padlocks and opens the door. "But you have to do it alone." He hands me the lantern. "Don't stray too close. It whispers, but you must not listen. When I was your age, I could only withstand a few minutes before I had to leave, so don't be ashamed if you can't stomach longer than that. After this, I will ask you once more if you want to carry this burden."
His words make it seem as though I am about to face a monster, and if the hairs standing on the back of my neck are any indication, something powerful indeed lies within. Drawing a slow breath to calm myself as best I can, I step into the tunnel that leads deeper into the mountain.
My footsteps echo against the walls as I make my way further from the entrance. Other sounds reach my ears—the distant drip of water, the skittering of creatures fleeing from the glow of my lantern. Minutes pass, and I begin to wonder if this might all be an elaborate trick, like the test of courage I took with some friends years ago. Perhaps the objective is simply to sit alone in the darkness.
There is ample time for self-reflection while training to become a priest, but even if that is the case here, I cannot shake the questions that plague me. Why is this a family secret? What is the purpose of the door and chains? Why was my father so serious about this? None of it adds up, but as the walls begin to recede from the reach of my light, I realize I have entered a cave.
The darkness here is all-consuming, so I proceed with caution. But the moment my lantern's light falls upon something, my entire body freezes, gripped by the most primal reaction I have ever experienced. I can neither run nor fight; I am paralyzed by the otherworldly sight before me. In the flickering warmth of the lamp's glow, I see a dragon.
Its long, serpentine body is bound to the floor by ropes attached to large stakes driven deep into the stone. The urge to vomit rises in my throat as I notice the smaller stakes piercing the beast's claws and feet. Various wards are strung taut across its body—around the muzzle, horns, and on the ropes and stakes.
The display is gruesome in every sense. The beast lies motionless, its head still and eye closed, the other hidden behind a tuft of hair that flows down, covering half of its face. As the initial fear drains from me, I feel my eyes begin to water. Even in this dim light, I cannot ignore the creature's breathtaking beauty. Its silk-like white feathers mingle with the smooth scaled belly, making it appear as pristine as freshly fallen snow.
What could it have done to warrant such a cruel fate? I had read stories of dragons, but like everything else, I never took them seriously. Was this my family's secret? Did we kill the last dragon?
"Help me." The whisper is so faint that at first, I mistook it for the wind. "Help me."
Once again, my heart seizes as I realize something different about this dragon. The uncovered eye that was once closed is now open and fixed upon me.
"Help me." This whisper... "Help me." It can't be.
Before I can even process what is happening, I ran. I don't know why I'm running, but by the time I come to my senses, I am already outside, barely able to hold myself up as my father pats my back.
"You did well, son," he says softly. "Let's head back. I'll explain everything at home."
The secret had finally been revealed. The story my father told was preposterous, or at least it would've been if he had told me before I saw the dragon. A tale of worshiping the creature to bring fortune, and it was working for a time, but for some reason, the dragon stopped. The next part of the story truly sickened me. My ancestors bound the dragon to the land by force, and ever since, it's been held here, keeping the fortune it brings from leaving.
The reasons why it stopped were unknown, but none cared to learn why, after all, they got what they wanted in the end.
"While the time may never come, you must regularly return to the cave to check the seals," my father adds, his voice grave. "If they wear away, I doubt the beast will leave without seeking revenge. So, are you willing to take on this responsibility?"
It's a lot to take in, but what really strikes me is that the state of the dragon isn't what bothers my father—it's the fact that it could possibly escape. This isn't right… but I can't deny that fear either. It's why I ran away, despite knowing that the creature was in pain. I don't know what will come of this, but after having seen its pain, I had to see this through.
"I am," I say, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me.
My father nods, a flicker of relief passing over his features. "Very well. It goes without saying, but this secret must only be shared with someone you believe will take your position, but that is many years in the future. For now, rest. Tomorrow is when you start checking the seals." He extends his hand, holding the key to the cave locks. As I grasp it, he closes his hand around mine and looks me in the eye, his gaze intense. "Don't listen to it, no matter what it says."
I nod, meeting his gaze. "Understood."
With everything said, my father leaves, and I am left alone to reflect on all that I have learned. The thought of being locked away in a dark cave for so long is almost too much to bear, and I have to shake those thoughts away. I decide to call it an early night and prepare myself for tomorrow, but sleep eludes me as my mind refuses to settle.
As I lie in bed, questions and doubts race through my head. How could my ancestors have done something so cruel? What could have driven the dragon to stop providing fortune, and why did they resort to such drastic measures? The weight of this secret settles heavily upon my shoulders, and I know that from this moment on, my life will never be the same.
These thoughts consume me, and to my surprise, I find myself still awake as the first rays of light filter into my room. I realize I haven't slept at all, my mind too preoccupied with the revelations of the previous day. With a heavy sigh, I drag myself out of bed, my body weary but my mind alert, knowing that I must face the responsibilities that come with this newfound knowledge.
I enter the cavern where the dragon rests, my lantern casting a feeble glow in the oppressive darkness. Barely a step into the chamber, the dragon's voice reaches out to me, a desperate plea echoing through the cavernous space.
"Please, help me," it begs, its voice a hoarse whisper, each word laced with pain. "I can't bear this agony any longer."
I clench my jaw, trying to fortify my resolve against the dragon's heart-wrenching pleas. This is just another job, I remind myself. Nothing more, nothing less. Focusing on the task at hand, I start at the tail end, meticulously inspecting the ropes and seals that keep the creature bound. But with each passing moment, the true extent of the dragon's anguish becomes increasingly evident. The coarse fibers have chafed away the scales, leaving raw, bleeding abrasions in their wake. Every stolen glance at the dragon's once-majestic form erodes my initial awe, replacing it with a growing sense of horror.
Scars and half-healed wounds mar its once-pristine hide, a testament to the cruelty inflicted upon it by my ancestors. The dragon's beauty, which had so captivated me upon first sight, now seems like a distant memory, forever tainted by the unimaginable suffering it has been subjected to. As I move to inspect the seals around the dragon's neck, its voice reaches my ears once more, a desperate whisper filled with a sickening offer.
"I'll do anything you desire," it breathes, desperation dripping from every syllable. "Anything at all. I'll be your plaything, your obedient slave. I won't resist, not like when the others forced themselves upon me. I'll cater to your every whim, if only you'll grant me one last glimpse of the sky."
The dragon's words send a wave of nausea through me, bile rising in my throat. So it wasn't my imagination—the slender body, the strange stains I saw around its tail. This dragon is female, and scattered were hints of unspeakable sins inflicted upon her by those who came before me. The very thought of this once-magnificent creature being violated, her spirit shattered by such heinous acts, ignites a smoldering rage within me. Yet, beneath the anger, I feel the overwhelming burden of guilt and sorrow, the realization that my own bloodline bears responsibility for the dragon's ceaseless torment.
This was far beyond anything I had ever envisioned. As I reach its head and commence checking the seals around its horns and muzzle, I notice the dragon gazing at me with unadulterated desperation. Throughout all of this, I foolishly consoled myself with the belief that these deeds were committed in an era when such actions were deemed acceptable. While it's true that we keep the dragon imprisoned out of fear, the torture was carried out by others. But the act of cruelty before me was unlike the rest.
She stared at me with a single eye, for her right was nothing more than a gaping, hollow socket. Compared to the entirety of her ordeal, this was relatively tame, but what truly shook me to my core was the freshness of the wound. It was recent, perhaps merely months old, a chilling reminder that the dragon's torment was not a relic of the past, but an ongoing nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.
There was no hope left for this dragon. These humans cannot be swayed because they've taken anything she could call her own. Her freedom, the sky, and even her purity. Closing her eye, she accepts that until the very world itself fades into darkness, she will remain trapped in this cave, a prisoner of her own existence. But then, she feels a drop on her muzzle. Opening her eye, she looks at the human, who moments before wore a stoic expression, now appearing as a shattered soul.
A myriad of emotions play across his face, emotions the dragon can scarcely recall ever witnessing from these creatures before. Tears flow freely from his eyes as he gazes upon her, sadness tearing him apart from within, even as he releases a scream of frustration towards the heavens. Is he distraught by the extent of her suffering? She doesn't know, but as soon as his screams subside, he pulls her head to his chest, and in that instant, all the pain and sorrow seem to melt away.
For the first time in centuries, the dragon experiences a sensation that can only be described as tender. The human's embrace, his tears falling gently upon her scales, is a touch devoid of cruelty or ill intent. In this fleeting moment, she feels a flicker of something she had long since buried: compassion. The purity and sincerity of his actions cut deeper than any physical wound she's endured since her capture, awakening emotions she had long ago locked away as a means of survival.
"I'm sorry." The words escape his lips, a whispered apology that carries the weight of generations.
Even as one of his hands moves to pound the floor in frustration, the scent of iron begins to permeate the air. With each upward swing of his hand, she feels the speckles of his blood falling upon her, a tangible manifestation of his inner turmoil. This is the only human she's encountered who seems so deeply conflicted. It's clear that he recognizes the inherent wrongness of her situation, yet he's likely been ensnared by his family's legacy, generations of storytelling that paint her as a calamity waiting to be unleashed upon the world.
"Stop."
When the dragon speaks, I come to my senses, her head resting on my lap as she stares at me.
"I understand, human," the dragon murmurs. "You don't have to harm yourself anymore."
Of all the things this dragon should be saying right now, and she's trying to comfort me? The look in her eye is one of acceptance. That she will never be freed from the cruelty, nor would she wish to burden those who would suffer from simply knowing her existence. The pain inside me swells, becoming an unbearable weight upon my soul as we continue to stare into each other's eyes. In that shared gaze, my thoughts begin to form into a resolute purpose.
I can't allow this injustice to happen any longer. My family feared this dragon for good reason. The acts of torture and violation inflicted upon her… These are not the deeds of people who simply wanted the best for their loved ones. And the sickest realization of it all? Her missing eye, a wound so fresh that there's no doubt in my mind it was my father's doing. I agreed to bear the weight of their sins, and so they can't object to how I choose to atone for them.
"What's your name?" I ask, my voice gentle but filled with determination.
The dragon continues to hold my gaze. "I have no name, human."
"Then I'll give you one." I think of the changing of seasons, the coming winter. "Yuki, your name is Yuki."
"Yuki?" The dragon says, as if testing the name on her tongue.
"I'm Tasuke." I say, never turning my gaze from her. "I know this is meaningless... But I'm sorry."
As those words left my lips, any lingering doubt or hesitation vanished, consumed by the unwavering conviction that now burned within me. I knew, with absolute clarity, the path I must take—the only course of action that my conscience would allow. Raising my hand, still covered in the remnants of my own blood, I watched as Yuki's gaze followed the movement, her expression a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. Without a moment's hesitation, I pressed my bloodied palm against the ancient seals that adorned Yuki's head, smearing the crimson liquid across the weathered parchment.
The effect is instantaneous, the talismans crumbling away as Yuki's body tenses, a shudder rippling through her form as the first taste of freedom in centuries washes over her.
"What are you doing?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a potent blend of disbelief and uncertainty, as if she couldn't quite comprehend the enormity of the moment.
I didn't answer, not with words. Instead, I gently laid her head down, my touch a silent promise of the change to come. Rising to my feet, I made my way to her pinned claws, each step a defiant stride against the cruelty she had endured for far too long. Wrapping my hands around the nearest stake, I summoned every ounce of strength I possessed and pulled, the wood splintering and cracking as it tore free from her flesh, a visceral representation of the chains that had bound her for so long.
Even during all this, Yuki remains still, perhaps still unable to process what I'm doing. Nevertheless, I persevere, smearing my blood on the wards until all that remains are the ropes tethering her to the floor. Though my actions may seem insignificant in the face of her suffering, I collapse to the ground, exhausted. Have I somehow imparted a measure of spiritual energy to break the seals?
I can't say for certain, but all I can do is watch as Yuki struggles momentarily before slipping free from the ropes. I witness the flicker of realization in her eyes as she takes in her liberated form. Even though she is free, the truth of it hasn't fully sunk in yet. Slowly, deliberately, she takes measured steps towards me as I remain motionless, transfixed by her gaze.
From the instant I broke the first talisman, I had accepted my fate. My death would be but a small price to pay for the agony she has endured, a meager start to the atonement she is owed. I can only hope that she won't unleash her fury upon the innocent, those who played no part in my family's transgressions. Closing my eyes, I await the inevitable, knowing that a mere flick of the dragon's power could easily crush my skull. But it's alright. This is how it should be.
The sound of a body slumping to the ground reaches my ears, and when I open my eyes, I find myself face to face with Yuki. Her eye holds no trace of hatred, even though the full weight of what I've done has yet to register within it.
"Rest," she commands, her voice soft but filled with an undeniable authority.
It's not a choice. As if compelled by an unseen force, my eyes drift shut, and I surrender myself to the embrace of sleep, knowing I likely will never wake from it.
I had a dream of flying, a sensation so peaceful, liberating, and above all, beautiful. To see the world from such great heights, the lush green hills and dense forests stretching out beneath me, was an experience I had never known before, especially with how real it felt. But all dreams must come to an end, and so did mine when I let out a gasp, finding myself in total darkness with nothing in sight.
For a moment, I wondered if I was dead. It seemed possible until I felt something shift beside me. The last thing I recalled was falling asleep after setting Yuki free. Reaching out, my hand came to rest on a warm, smooth surface. In the darkness of the cave, I couldn't discern what it could be, but as I moved my hand higher, I felt soft feathers brush against my skin. I pulled my hand away immediately. Was Yuki beside me?
Focusing, I could hear slow and steady breaths. She was asleep, and I had no idea for how long. I hadn't expected to wake up after letting her go, and now my mind was flooded with thoughts. Why hadn't she left yet? Did she want revenge? Should I just leave and let the chips fall where they may?
Reaching out once more, I aimed for where I believed her face to be, resting my hand on her muzzle. Though I couldn't see her, it didn't stop my mind from picturing her clearly. Absentmindedly, I stroked her muzzle, a small smile playing on my lips. She was free, no matter what else happened. I froze when I realized I was closer to her missing eye. There were many things I had to figure out in my life.
Knowing my father had taken her eye was unforgivable. To think the man I had looked up to for so long was actually a monster… I gritted my teeth. None of that mattered right now. Yuki might be free, but there was still one last thing to do. Reaching around, I found the lantern from before. Pulling it close, I lit it again, and when I glanced back at Yuki, she was wide awake, her breathing pattern unchanged.
She had been awake the entire time, hadn't she?
"What were you thinking?" she asked, not moving an inch.
"Lots of things," I admitted. "Surprised I'm not dead. Happy that you're free. Disgusted knowing my father took your eye." I got up and waved for her to follow. "We don't have much time. I'll open the door, and you can escape."
"Escape where?" she asked.
"That's up to you." I thought it over for a moment. "Just avoid the city."
"Sit e?" She tilts her head.
Oh no… How could something so obvious have flown over my head? She had been locked in the mountain for so long that she likely had no idea how much the world had changed. This had gone from a simple escape to something more complicated in seconds. To release her into the modern world would lead to even more unspeakable horrors at the hands of those in power, perhaps even more cruel than my ancestors.
"Let's make this simple. You wanted to see the sky, right?"
For the first time, I saw her eyes light up with excitement.
"Truly?" she asked.
I nodded. "We can see it, right now… But, please, don't leave." I felt a weight in my belly at saying such an awful thing to her. "There's a lot about the world you must know before leaving. I'll teach you all I can, but know it's far more dangerous, and I fear what would happen to you if anyone knew you existed."
She leaned close, looking into my eyes for a moment.
"You've given me more than any other human has, even expecting to lose your life for doing the right thing. Your words are not hollow, so I will follow them as long as they don't lead me astray."
"Thank you for understanding." I say genuinely. "Come,"
I wave for her to follow as we both walk toward the cave's exit.
We had made it to the door, just beyond it was freedom for Yuki and as I looked back at her, I could see a certain level of excitement from her. I could sense the weakness still weighing me down but I pushed it aside as I opened the door, but just as I'm about to smear my blood onto the talismans, I'm surprised to find my hand had been healed.
"Did you do this?" I ask, looking at Yuki.
"I did."
Her tone left no room for question, like it was simply the right thing to do and nothing else needed to be said. Seeing this side of her only continued to solidify thoughts on helping her to hopefully escape this prison. I bring my thumb to my mouth and bite hard enough to draw blood, with that I break the remaining talismans that hold the door, but ensure they stay up, if only to play the part.
If my father found out that Yuki was free, I'm not sure what he'd do, so I have to keep this secret the best I can. I swing the door open and find the night has come and with that I do allow myself to settle. The cover of darkness would keep us safe for the time being. But Yuki brushed past me, her gaze locked onto the sky.
It's then that I see tears begin to fall from her eyes. Looking at the stars is something I've never thought twice about. It was so normal that it became boring after so long. But when I turn my gaze upward, seeing the brilliant colors of our universe, it's only knowing what it would be like to have that taken away from me that I can truly appreciate it.
"Thank goodness." Yuki whispers before turning to me with a smile. "It's still the same."
Seeing such pure joy continue to eat away at me. "I'm happy for you."
"I need to get a closer look. Join me." I didn't understand what Yuki was saying until she snaked between my legs and stood up to her full height. "Hold on tight."
I didn't even get a moment to protest as she leapt into the sky. My heart raced as I grabbed onto her feathers and watched in awe as she kept jumping up. It was strange, as if she was landing on something before leaping higher with each step. But when I looked at her and saw a wide smile on her face, like a child given candy, my heart began to calm.
Once she was high enough, she stood in the air, just looking up as the breeze flowed through her feathers and over her scales. She let out a long sigh before drawing in a deep breath. It all was so simple but clearly meant the world to her. That was until I noticed her gaze shift.
"What is that? A festival?"
I look over to see her looking toward the city.
"That's a city. A large collection of humans live there."
"Why is it so bright?"
"We usually run lights all night."
"How many humans are there?" Yuki asks.
"Millions. That's why I'm afraid of what would happen to you if anyone knew you existed." I say honestly.
Yuki doesn't say anything else as she turns her gaze back up to the sky. We sat there in the sky for some time before she quickly returned to the cave and landed on the ground.
"Thank you for letting me see the sky." Yuki says.
"You don't have to thank me." I saw, feeling some guilt build. "Afterall, you're still not free, not truly."
"Perhaps not." She agrees. "I cannot grasp the dangers you worry about but there is one thing I'm sure of." She leans close and nuzzles me. "You have my interests in heart and that means everything."
Being shown affection from a creature my family has spent so long hurting feels like a sin all on its own. But I brush that feeling aside. Starting tomorrow, I'll do right by Yuki. There are many years worth of torture she endured and whether she likes it or not, I will dedicate myself to making things right.