# Chapter 32
When Rite was younger than he is now. Was he angry with me then? I pondered, slowly climbing through my memories. Yes. The day I made a room for Rite and showed it to him. Rite had said something similar back then too.
At that time, I was too preoccupied to address it, but this time I felt I needed to make things clear.
“No, Rite. A person isn’t anyone’s possession.”
“What are you talking about?”
Confusion reflected in his wavering gaze. I was the one who was perplexed. I thought he was just being clingy, but Rite wasn’t so young that he wouldn’t understand this.
“Don’t you love me, Arden?”
“…Of course I love you.”
“Then why… until now, Arden has always… to me…”
Rite paused for a moment. He seemed to be choosing his words. His purple eyes rippled several times. I wanted to know what he was thinking inside, but I could only wait helplessly for Rite to tell me. The brief moment felt so long.
“You’ve always accommodated me. You’ve done everything for me.”
“…”
“Why are you doing this to me? I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
“…”
“Is it because I’m not little anymore?”
I didn’t know what to say. It was somewhat true. It’s natural for adults to accommodate children. Additionally, I was Rite’s guardian. I was the only one who could fulfill young Rite’s needs. So I tried my best to accommodate everything.
Even now, it wasn’t much different. I wanted to do everything for Rite because I felt sorry for him being alone at home. But it was also my role to guide Rite down the right path, so I couldn’t neglect that.
“Don’t do this…”
Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this, Arden. Rite mumbled repeatedly. This Rite felt unfamiliar to me. It was strange.
I remembered the moment I brought the baby who couldn’t even open his eyes from the forest. The small body burning with fever, the thin breath that seemed like it could stop at any moment, the sound of coughing. It was a desperate past. I took in that dying baby, let him suck on my finger instead of milk, gave him a name, and raised him. Except for the moment of his birth, I had been present for every moment of Rite’s life. Yet, that Rite felt unfamiliar to me now.
“…You’re acting strange.”
“…”
I blurted out what I couldn’t say earlier. Honestly, I wasn’t sure. Was I the one being strange for finding Rite unfamiliar, or was Rite the strange one? Regardless, I wanted to escape now. I didn’t have the courage to face Rite.
“Calm down a bit. Let’s talk again after that.”
So I headed to my room, as if avoiding the situation. Rite’s gaze clung persistently to me until the door blocked my view, but I pretended not to notice and closed the door. Nevertheless, I felt like the purple gaze hadn’t left me, so I had to stand there blankly for a while. Something was distorted oddly. If there were blueprints, I could at least figure out what was wrong. Unfortunately, human relationships didn’t come with blueprints.
* * *
Skipping dinner, I spent time blankly holed up in my room. I couldn’t even grasp what I should be thinking about. I wished I could at least fall asleep, but I failed several times. I wanted to go outside the bedroom and take a sip of alcohol, but I was afraid of running into Rite, so I couldn’t leave. To pass the time, I pulled out and read theoretical books I had completely memorized and the boring history of Artalis. The first page began with the founding myth of Artalis.
In the era when it was a kingdom, not an empire. The story of Artalis, the first king of the Artalis Kingdom and the only deity, and his companion Noah, was as beloved as the tale of Duz and Eden. Artalis with hair resembling sunlight and Noah, a dragon with wings as black as the night sky, symbolized day and night respectively. Because of this legend, the royal family was called the descendants of the dragon.
Long ago, there were records that the early kings of Artalis had dragon scales under their chins, but it was all nonsense. The story of Duz and Eden also had such content. The protagonist of the story, Duz, was a prince who was persecuted for not being born with dragon scales. Descendants of dragons? It was all just symbolism. Though Rite seemed to firmly believe it.
‘Arden is too skeptical.’
I suddenly remembered little Rite saying that while refuting my opinion. Rite had a tendency to believe these ridiculous legends at face value.
As I read, making dense notes beside the thick history book, quite a lot of time had passed. A bright, large full moon hung outside the window.
Did Rite have dinner? Probably not. Not after I said those things and went in. I should not have said he was strange. It was too late for regrets now that the words had already been spoken.
It was quiet outside the room, suggesting Rite might be asleep. I got up and opened the door slightly to look for some alcohol. All the lights were off. After carefully examining the living room through the crack in the door, I cautiously went out. Strangely, I couldn’t bring myself to look toward Rite’s room, so I kept my eyes forward and headed to the kitchen.
In the dark kitchen, I groped around to find alcohol. The small container was jam, and the slightly larger, slender bottle was olive oil. I kept feeling my way forward until I found the alcohol bottle. Being careful not to let the bottle’s mouth touch my lips, I poured alcohol into my mouth. I must have misjudged the amount, as more than I intended went straight down my throat.
“Ugh…”
My face automatically contorted due to the cold temperature and strong scent. I neither enjoyed alcohol nor did my body accept it well. Perhaps because it had been a long time since I’d had any, I immediately felt my body heating up. Just as I was carefully putting the bottle back in its place.
I heard a strange sound from somewhere. It was like the sound of wind, or perhaps someone moaning. A peculiar sound.
With my ears perked, I turned around. There was nothing special in the living room still wrapped in darkness. It wasn’t a sound from outside. It was definitely coming from inside the house. Is the alcohol already affecting me? While thinking that and fiddling with my earlobe, I heard the sound again.
The sound was a bit louder than before. It was then that I realized it was Rite’s voice. Could he be crying? My body froze. Conflicts with Rite were few enough to count on one hand. The fact that Rite was upset because of me pierced my heart. Should I go comfort him, or should I wait until tomorrow morning to talk?
Coming out of the kitchen, I stood in the living room looking at Rite’s room. Unlike my room with the lights on, no light could be seen through the crack in Rite’s door. I started imagining what might be behind the closed door. A dark room, was he curled up under the covers crying? Rite only had me now. Had I been too harsh on Rite, who was just waiting for me at home?
Saying such a thing to a child like that. It felt like my heart was being tightly squeezed with guilt and regret.
With muffled steps, I carefully approached Rite’s door. I slowly put my ear to the door. The ear cuff attached to my earlobe made a small clattering sound as it touched the door. I couldn’t hear well. Just as I pressed my head closer so that the ear cuff would be pressed against the door.
“Arden…”
Startled, I pulled my head away. He was sobbing. While calling my name. I couldn’t think of anything. I frantically grabbed the doorknob. He was now taller than me and mature enough for higher thinking, so I kept forgetting. Though his mental age might be close to an adult, he was still a child who hadn’t been in this world for even 10 years. He lacked experience absolutely. As I turned the doorknob, I suddenly realized my mistake. Rite strongly disliked it when someone didn’t knock.
But the door had already opened. When I flung it open, I saw a sight slightly different from what I had imagined. Rite wasn’t hiding under the covers. He was sitting on the bed with his left finger in his mouth.
The first thing that caught my eye was the horns protruding from his head. Since he had learned to control them, he rarely revealed them, so it had been a while since I’d seen them. His purple eyes immediately turned toward me. In the darkness, I could see his elongated pupils contracting. They had changed, just like when he entered an irrational state.
My gaze naturally scanned Rite. The black scales covering his arms were standing rigidly as if tensed up. And what those arms were holding…
Rite’s chest heaved greatly. With each rough exhale, saliva dripped down the finger in his mouth.
“What… what are you doing?”
The words flowed out of me unconsciously. I couldn’t comprehend the scene before my eyes. He had definitely just called my name.
At that moment, the scales on his arm squirmed.
“Who told you to come in as you please?”
Rite furrowed his brow. His low, guttural voice was unfamiliar. His post-pubescent voice was no longer that of a boy. My head was spinning. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol taking effect or if I was angry. I couldn’t even tell if I should be angry now or if I should apologize. Not knowing what to do, I just stood there blankly.
Rite, who had been glaring at me, leaned his upper body forward as if about to rise. At that sight, my instincts sounded a warning.
