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Do you know how dragons are born?
Like everything in this world, there is life first. It's the pink plum trees, it's the old high mountains, it's the air soaked with energy, it's the people that live and breathe with nature, nurtured by the power of this place. And the energy they give out finds a place in birth.
This is one of the most primal ways in which such amazing and mythical creatures are born.
Dragons.
They are plum petals for its eyes, rocks for its bones, earth for its scales and hair, and rivers for its blood.
They are the form of the people that live in the mountains, love them, live and die in these lands.
Because dragons — are creatures created by a place; by everyone who is there and exists.
The Sky is curious, chasing away the clouds, watching the beginning of a new age; the Wind laughs, tickling the skin of a new creature, barely remembering how long it's been since they've seen one; and the Sun kisses, promising a long life.
The young dragon was like humans and was accepted by them; he grew up unaware of his identity, but he never stopped being a dragon. You see, dragons — mischievous creatures, especially when they are young and full of energy. Little dragons play with those they know; they joke and fight, they jump and sleep, they seek companionship and avoid it. Young dragons are not very permanent creatures.
And they love no rule but their own; there is no dragon that bows its head, beyond its will; they are very majestic but proud creatures.
(It's funny, — whispers one mountain spirit to another, — to watch a man given so much power he doesn't know he has, — the spirits are silent as the pink eyes look back at them as the young dragon lounges in the arms of the man he calls sahyeong; a man who has been given power and is not fully aware of it.)
Even though the young dragon doesn't look like any of his kind, he acts the same, but people continue to overlook the obvious.
Dragons, like humans, are not too fond of the cold, so the now young man preferred to sleep through most of the sunny day of the fall of winter, yawning with enough force to make his bones crunch. Also, in contrast, during spring and summer, the young dragon was full of life, much more so than the humans around him who couldn't keep up with him.
They would never be able to keep up with him.
Dragons were strong; every one of them, though they were few in number; no one was born among nature who was not blessed with strength. This young dragon was no exception; of course he was stronger than men; there was nothing unusual in that, it was only natural that even a very young dragon would be strong in his own territory: unless an absolute monster came after him, — as Fate reasoned, pointing out to the Sun his mistake.
The Mountains and the Plums do not listen to their prattle; they love their bright child, full of laughter among people who do not know his essence but appreciate him. The Mountains know that their dragon will be like all dragons: powerful and invincible — he is their pride (and they his). The Plums whisper every night to their dragon that they will always be there for him.
No matter how many centuries and lives pass.
And the dragon grows up; he's still infinitely young by dragon standards, but he's old enough among the humans who raised him as one of their own, never noticing the obvious signs.
After all, all dragons were and are — protective and possessive.
It's a gift and a curse.
(Cheong Myeong dies, and it's nothing compared to the feeling of how much he's lost.
He doesn't look back, he can't, there's nothing there but the dead, and it makes him clench his teeth so tightly that he imagines a growl; it came from him.
"Oh", says the monster, sitting on a mountain of corpses like a throne, pierced by dozens of swords, "this is it", the demon continues, and dares him to smile, "this is even more than I hoped to meet at my end, Swordsman Huashan. One day, I may return..."
Cheong Myeong hates, and he doesn't know how he gets up, but he moves forward; to finish, to defeat, to kill; he doesn't pull the sword shard out of his shoulder.
The Heavenly Demon only seems to mock him:
"...and I hope to meet you again, in battle..." finishes the demon, and Cheon Myung doesn't know why, but he clenches his jaws on Cheon Ma's neck; the blood is rotten and hot, vile and black-red; the demon's head rolls down.
He meets the dawn, and takes to the sky; he remembers nothing but disappointment and Huashan.
He must return, he must protect, he must safeguard.
Because Huashan belongs to him, just as he belongs to Huashan.)
"What happens when dragons lose what was theirs?" asks the girl; her father's daughter, with a love of plums and swords.
"Ah", sighs the man, smiling at his daughter, "well, they only become more cruel to those who would try to take away what is left of them".
Years later, Yu Isoel meets a dragon pretending to be a human, and realizes what her father meant.