Archive of Our Own

It could be said Lychee had always preferred dark, enclosed spaces. Irregular shapes that simply swallowed any light if they wanted for it to be swallowed.

It could be said they were a creature of darkness. One that thrived inside of caves, where sunlight didn't reach unless they specifically desired for it to do so. And in all sincerity, it was okay by them.

Too much light… it dried their eyes. Not sunlight, specifically. They could live with that, even if they would rather remain away from it.

They were simply not a fan of light. Of surfaces that reflected, that shone upon you. Of statues made of gold and the most polished ivory, in which their purple figure used to contrast against.

They had, in a way, grown resentful to their own reflection. Thanks to those reflections. Thanks to that light that forced its way onto Longan's palace, like how their gaze forced itself upon their own.

So it was odd even for them to be staring at their own reflection. Even stranger to do so in the middle of the day.

It wasn't as if they could truly escape it. The leaves, the flowers. If the polished crystals that made up most of this false, illusory vegetation wasn't reflective, then the morning dew would be.

Not even within their own illusion could they escape reflections.

The only good thing about them is that they allowed for them to know if someone was creeping from behind. It was always a positive thing to protect themselves from abushes.

Their scythe, for example. The purple tinted blade used to be polished enough for almost crystal clear reflections to be discernible in it.

But alas, there was no need to protect themselves from potential ambushes. There was no physical conflict here, besides friendly spars with what remained of Rambutan. Exchanges of blows with nowhere as much strength as the ones they had once exchanged.

And even then. There was no need to worry about backstabs. Not only because Rambutan would never attack from behind, even less harm a Friend. No. It was simply because they had been too exhausted recently.

They used the reflections to check their looks. Not because they didn't like these new looks, no. Even if they were slightly bothered by the way they had achieved them.

But because of the inconsistencies.

That kept on getting worse.

Like a dog's growl getting progressively more and more tired until it died into whines. Until it was rendered useless, defenseless. Ready to be beaten again.

Sometimes, staring into the tranquil waters of the many little rivers or ponds, they'd see it. How their eyes regained their original color, pink pupils showing for split fractions of a second when they blinked, or the black sclera revealed at the edges of their eyeballs.

Small changes. Ones that only they themselves would notice. And again, not only because of how self-absorbed in their own image they might have been.

But because the paranoia was tearing at their insides.

Every little detail. They'd spend hours staring at the mountains, at the moonlight. In hopes the small blurs and mistakes weren't noticeable.

Perhaps if there were more real beings here, they would have been noticed and questioned already.

Sometimes they themselves forgot that most things weren't real here. The birds, the small Dragons and Wyverns that soared the skies.

All illusions. Recollections of memories, fragments of the past, merged together to craft a believable lie that would keep Longan content.

As long as they gazed at the flying, albeit false Dragons, instead of at the little details, things would be fine. Hopefully they wouldn't begin to look under rocks or at the tree leaves too closely.

But with Longan it was always unpredictable.

Even here, it was unclear. Whether they were all bite no bark, or no bite all bark… impossible to know. Lychee could control minds, not read them.

They were tired of this false existence feeling like their hooves laid atop eggshells. Or glass shards. Whatever it was, it took only a gaze to their reflection to see how utterly exhausted they truly looked.

It wasn't about their attitude anymore. That was blatantly obvious. Their stone wings hanging low, slouched shoulders and naps that became days of dreamless slumber. No, it wasn't only about that.

As they stared into the river’s water, the reflection that greeted them was their own. Not this appearance they had taken, not this elegant, intricate dress they had decided to wear.

A miserable looking, pinkish being stared back at them. Even if the water distorted the reflection slightly, it was there. Just like it had been back at the Pale Expanse.

Even the burns from Longan's orbs attacks. Even the Life Powder, coating in its dusty whiteness their arms and legs. It was all there, staring back at them.

Yet they didn't flinch. They didn't look away. Because they knew they were looking at the real world. The reflections had become little peeks into reality, breaches in their magic.

Windows that led to a world that no longer had anything to give or sacrifice for them. If it ever had.

Pink eyes locked into now iridescent ones. It was unclear who was the reflection and who was the real one. Was the Lychee currently knelt by the riverside the false reflection, a projection of what their mind would wish for them to truly be? Was the false one the battered up Dragon shown in the water, the breach of their magic projected into such pristine waters?

They could feel their eyes getting heavier, a storm of thoughts running through their mind. The edges of their visions got blurry - and yet the pained stare of their own reflection remained clear on their sight, as if refusing to fade alongside their consciousness.

Tired. They felt so tired. Exactly like how they had felt when she had freed them from the wretched orb. The same sensation, less the physical injuries.

But they couldn't just give in. For the sake of this false world, they couldn't simply cave in to the idea of falling face-first against the water and drowning. Not like they could drown to begin with.

Claws sunk into the water, distorting the reflection as they brought the cold liquid to their face. Violently scrubbing the exhaustion off their eyes, the coldness seemed to wake them up slightly.

Between little curses and insults that fell in no ears, they looked back down. The reflection had gone to normal, showing the not-so composed and elegant ruler of this Paradise they had become.

Witches, how much they dreaded this role. But it was for a greater good. The outer world would thank their sacrifice.

…

Or wouldn't even acknowledge it.

Was this how Longan felt, all that time ago? When their actions were only understood by themselves? When they were scorned and dreaded by all of Dragonkind, considered a danger too great to try to reason with?

…They had no clue on why they thought of the Ivory Dragon all of a sudden. They had been trying to keep them away from their mind as much as possible.

Which didn't seem to work. Their actions, their words and thoughts always crept back into the Purple Dragon's cracked mind. Even if Lychee's influence kept them docile and hazed in a false satisfaction, they still held them in a chokehold when it came to the past.

Even as they brought more water to their face, their bangs going wet, they couldn't get them out of their mind. They almost forgot this Paradise was truly a jail for both. A containment cell, where Lychee controlled Longan.

…Where she was locked alongside these monsters too.

And yet, whenever they thought of them, it felt more as if they were the one controlled by Longan again. Despite them doing nothing, but exist peacefully like they had planned

Few times had they crossed paths again, ever since the spell took place. Sometimes, they'd see them in the Palace, staring at the moonlight or at the endless canopy. Other times, they wouldn't be visible, but the scent of tea would be felt. Something herbal and warm, which Lychee's sensitive nostrils recognized.

After all, Longan did like tea… at least back then. A habit they had dropped upon becoming a Cookie. The scent of dried, warm longan was unforgettable the way they prepared it.

With a groan, they forced themselves up. Legs feeling like jelly, they almost tripped, hadn't been for their tail. Strong, thick, an excellent support for when their legs refused to work.

They wanted to go away. Run to the edge of this Paradise, render the part Longan occupied null and trap them in a black void of rot. Or did they? Someone who wanted so badly to get rid of someone wouldn't be bothering themselves to this degree by finding little ways to keep them alive, whilst avoiding their presence entirely.

They groaned. Loudly, as the air exited their chest. What time had it been? Somewhere in the afternoon, probably. No true way to tell. Time itself bent inside this illusion - perhaps Longan understood that. Being controlling of time itself. Being always disoriented over it.

She would advise against this idea. She would tell them to stay away from Longan. Their existence was a fear there was no need to fight - less you wished for death, or petrification. Some things just cannot be fixed.

But they didn't want to fix them. They didn't deserve to be fixed, or forgiven. They didn't deserve to exist.

There was no way to kill an unkillable, immortal being such as they were. They could only be outsmarted for so long - before they began to inevitably notice the irregularities in Lychee's patterns of behavior. Before they began to dwell onto their memory gaps, onto the false memories created by the Violet One.

But… they could be kept content, perhaps. As much as Lychee loathed the idea of having to satisfy them once again, a false peace of mind was the key to actual peace inside this Paradise.

And so, unlike their better judgement, they got on walking. Their wings were too tired to fly nowadays, and transforming into their Dragon form was out of the question. Hooves tapped the slightly humid grass as they moved, attempting not to lose their balance.

The tiredness made it hard. Moving too quickly made them feel dizzy, but not moving essentially dragged their body to the ground. It wasn't unlike them to get exhaust so easily. They could have blamed it on the sunlight, which naturally tired them out. Or on anything else, truly.

But deep down they knew it was because of them. Indirectly, their existence had always been the cause of their exhaustion and frustration.

And even if they couldn't fix the lack of energy that came from having to maintain the spell up for so long, and so perfectly - they could fix the pain in their soul that came from being unable to understand them.

Understanding would lead to a better control, after all. All they had seen of Longan were distorted memories and reflections of their past thoughts. Come think of it, never had they maintained any meaningful conversation that didn't end with orders or commands.

…Perhaps now it was the time to fix that.

Though they'd first pass by her resting quarters. Warn her to not come out. Longan hadn't taken notice of Rambutan's presence in this Paradise, fully believing the place was a result of their victory. Better to keep it that way.

It was on the opposite side of the Main Palace. The massive structure, with balconies, shared the same layout the Longan Palace once had. Before destruction had fallen against it. As a result, it was essentially a labyrinth recreated from Longan's mind.

…which they had twisted a little to give place to the unwanted guest she had become.

Still following through the riverside, they took a turn. Hidden among crystal bushes, a cyan and pink curtain hid one of the secret entrances to the palace.

Rambutan didn't have much here, either. She hadn't exactly asked Lychee for much, besides their friendship. How a mortal could be so detached to material belongings, yet so attached to people and feelings… even when undeserving of said attachment.

They knocked on the stone wall, given the lack of a door. The vibrations sent through the crystals were to be felt in their own body, a migraine threatening to flare up for a split second before calming down.

…No response came. Peeking inside her room, she noticed how the armor and her spear were gone. Off to train again, eh? Better than to be constantly on the edge of collapse like they were.

They trusted her to stay safe. Not to not take reckless choices for the sake of others, no. But to stay safe on her own… were any pain or harm to befall upon their more than friend, they'd turn this Paradise into hell. Whether that was a good thing or not.

With a sight, they turned back, making sure the curtain was properly closed. The iridiscent hues of the crystalline stones and bushes hid it fairly well from sight, in case any animal or wyrm were to land near this sacred place.

They should have paid attention to the reflection in these crystals, perhaps. First thing they saw when turning back was them.

No, not really them. The Specter of the Colossal Dragon, staring down at them from dangerously close. Even if it's size had been reduced in this Paradise, and it had been detached from Longan's self… it remained unnerving.

—hhhEY!! What's up with creeping on me like that! Don't… don't you know who rules here!? Shoo, shoo, skedaddle!!

It gave no response. It couldn't give any. Lychee had made sure of that. The part that embodied the worst of Longan's mind… reduced to a floating, silent serpent.

And it seemed to hate that. Whenever they exchanged glances, hatred would be the only thing present in its hollow eyes. But it did not strike. It did not rebel. It couldn't do that. Even if keeping a safeguard against them was draining, Lychee couldn't just kill off part of Longan's mind.

And that frustrated both of them. Lychee, wanting to get rid of it. The Specter, wanting its other part to snap out, to become the true Ivory Dragon again. Were either of them to falter, this Paradise was in mortal danger.

—What, did Longan send you down here? Staring at me like we're in the real world and you're about to extract my life powder or something?! BOOOORING!

The Specter seemed to inhale deeply, the only thing stopping it from shutting closed their eyes being the lack of eyelids. Before extending out a claw to Lychee - big as a platform, for them to hold onto.

—Awwww, so… sickeningly kind for someone who wants me dead! But remember, try to harm me and it'll hurt more like any cane wielding mortal’s strike will ever hurt, heheee!

Somehow, they managed to muster up the strength to laugh and joke. As if nothing was wrong.

Climbing onto the Specter’s hand, they noticed how their claws twitched. As if tempted to close around them. Which as long as the safeguard spell worked, would not happen at all.

They were quickly lifted off the ground. Vertigo wasn't a familiar feeling for them, being used to flying since long ago. Though, for whatever reason, their stomach seemed to rebel against them for a second, a bitter taste filling the back of their throat. Like rotten fruit pulp wanting to come back out, just to stop its movement in their throat seconds later.

Holding onto the Specter's claws, they gazed at the ground below as they flew to the summit of the mountain. To the top area of the Palace, where none of the false wyrms and dragons that lived there approached. Except for the Specter.

Except for Longan.

It was almost ironic. They had the best sight of the entire Paradise. A place where they had all the power to observe every little movement that took place within this iridescent realm.

And yet. They remained blind. Unaware of Rambutan's presence, unaware of the fact this was an illusion, a lie.

Longan had mentioned in the past their natural eyesight being… mediocre. Even if their gaze could see into the past and future, even if it carried a grave of stone on it, Lychee had always found curious how their eyes seemed slightly hazed, or looking in different directions at times.

Perhaps that played a part here. In this realm, they had no Dragon Orbs to keep every thought and movement under watch. Only the four ones that never wandered off too far from them. And the Spectre, who couldn't even communicate its knowledge and hatred to its other half.

Maybe they really were blind, regardless of whatever haze the spell put them in.

Rays of sunlight warmed their cold body. The higher up the mountain they went, the more the radiant sun hit. Above the clouds, above the trees. The wind also seemed to blow a bit faster up there.

Their gaze travelled, for a second, to the Specter's empty eyes. It seemed to be looking upwards, focused on flying towards the top of the palace. It paid no mind to the landscape painted before it. No mind to the false dragons, or wyrms, either - probably aware they were false creatures that didn't fight or battle among themselves.

—Y’know… I should reeeally be grateful for the fact you can't talk, Lon- Weird specter thingy! You know too much. Too much for your own good.

No response. Lychee had grown used to talking to unresponsive things, that paid no mind to their words or didn't respond.

Like when they had carried her body on-

—Hey, can you hurry a little bit? For a creature so long and evil and threatening, you are SLOW, like a snail! And THIS is meant to be your ultimate form? Pha! It'd be faster for me to climb the mountain by myself at this point!

They didn't want to think of that.

No better way to derail their thoughts than to mock the one sentient, real creature here that couldn't respond.

Truth is, they weren't moving slow at all. They were almost at the top by now, Longan's area of the palace visible in the summit. They only liked to bother it. After all, it was the incarnation of everything negative or outright cruel Longan had ever felt, done, or even physically been.

They could see a very small trail of smoke leaving their almost invisible nostrils. Up here, if it weren't for how the sun hit directly without the filtering of the clouds or the trees, it was cold - frost to be found amongst some of the crystals, a detail Lychee had probably overlooked. Being a cold blooded creature, excessive cold would definitely weaken them.

But as long as they remained under the sun, battling the urge to hide in a cave again, they'd be okay. As okay as they could be considering their absolute exhaustion.

Finally the Spectre came to a stop. Having reached the top of the mountain, the highest part of the Palace. It was a bit surprising still how Longan hadn't carved the stone and crystal to their figure, the same way they had done to adorn their Palace in the real world.

Yet again. Lychee's spell had significantly lowered their ego to a… no, not a low amount. Just a tolerable one. Below the one of the Golden Dragon, probably.

—Awww, thanks for oh so kindly bringing me up here! I'd give you a little treat, but I don't like you. Not a little bit!

They stuck their tounge out to it, before hopping off their claws and onto the stone stairs that led to the entrance of Longan's resting zone - though their knees almost buckled, the same dizzy feeling shooting up again as they landed.

—Now, shoo, shoo! This is private business I got with them, you know?! I appreciate not being observed like that!

Forcing a grin, they waved off the Specter, their other claw using their scythe to support themselves.

It seemed tempted to snarl at them for a moment, snout twitching as if it'd bare its not-visible fangs. Whatever rationality remained under all that hatred and rage, however, seemed to decide against it - immediately storming off, taking a turn presumably to the opposite side of the mountain - not before its tail lashed one last time against the stone ground, cracking it.

—Tsk. So… aggressive? No, no, not aggressive! Just big, wrinkly, and dumb! Old lizard… bah, they only exist because I-

Their eyes travelled to where they had cracked the ground, falling silent. Wings and tail lowering instinctually, unsure on what to do.

Like water, some black, putrid fluid seemed to seep from the cracks. Like tree sap, but completely dark. Almost threatening to absorb all the sunlight that reflected against it.

—...Because I allow for that to happen.

A frown settled on their face, the headache threatening to return. This wasn't good. It was no good. Not at all. They would rather see the rocks and stones blur, or for the crack to seem unnatural to a degree, than… this.

They tapped it a bit with one of their hoofs, unsure on what to do. Was this the spell crumbling in front of their very eyes? No, no, it couldn't be! They still had energy to keep both this spell and their sanity active for some more time!

Or so they thought. Touching it, all they felt was… cold. It was cold. That was all there was to it. Like it wasn't a liquid - but rather part of this realm outright ceasing to exist the moment they lowered their guard.

—...Tsk. Witches forbid I try to keep things going smoothly, apparently!

Yeah. They'd lie to themselves again. This was probably just a regular inconsistency that sometimes happened. Where a coat of minerals was meant to be, their magic and mind hadn't rendered it properly! An empty space, that was all! Did it present itself differently than the usual missing details in the Paradise? Yes, it did.

Was it a concern? Well, if it was, it wouldn't have disappeared with a snap of their claws, the ground fixed as if nothing had happened to begin with.

Though even such a small fix made them want to puke a little.

Rambutan knew how to deal with these sensations. Someone who trained for so long and without rests, who treated other's wounds before her own… probably knew how to stop feeling so ridiculously weak.

They'd go pay her a visit later.

Covering with some pebbles the place where the crack had been present, they then turned back to the entrance of Longan's area. Beginning to walk to it, they didn't glance down at the rest of the palace that was unveiled down the mountain. Only at what awaited.

Their nostrils, through the cold, yet pure air, picked up on the scent of tea. Longan's tea-making skills had always been there. Even in the long lost past, they'd boil entire ponds with herbs and fruits. Some believed these were the first potions ever conceived before mortals arrived, their recipes having been passed down even after Dragonkind’s downfall.

Lychee knew it was simply tea.

Climbing up the steps, they eventually found themselves in front of the gazebo that Longan had taken as a nest on this realm. Surrounded by clouds, barely touched by the dark branches of trees with the most delicate of flowers, it stood imposing above all of the palace.

No handrail was to be present in the bridge that connected the rest of the Palace to that particular place. Lychee didn't care for that. Their balance wasn't that messed up yet. They wouldn't fall an entire mountain to their death.

If they did. They wouldn't even die.

They couldn't die.

Not even coming in yet, they could see Longan inside. Their back turned to them, one of their hands seemed to hold a small wyvern hatchling of multi-colored scales that glistened even in the distance. Lychee had no idea what they held in their other hand.

Now standing directly on the entrance, two Dragon Orbs stared directly at them from the upper corners of the pillars that held said entrance. No petrification took place. Lychee could even stare back at them, without any fear.

The Dragon Orbs were one of the many things that had faced massive alterations thanks to the spell. Before, they were golden, focused solely on destruction. Indistinguishable from one another. All the same, produced en-masse by Longan on their nest.

Now few remained. Only the ones that followed Longan, and the ones on those pillars. They only stayed there as visual aid for the presumably blind Dragon. That was all.

Both their shape and function had changed. The few that remained were distinguishable from one another, only… watching. Not lurking, not ravaging entire islands or turning mortals into powdery statues.

They only remained. And they were looking at them.

—Hey, Looongan? Knock knock? You there? Bah, ‘course you are there!

—...When am I not here, Lychee Dragon? From this spot, I can see everything. I have also foreseen your arrival. Come inside, I do not bite.

—Psh. As if I'd await permission to come inside.

They still felt incredibly uncomfortable around Longan. Memories of all they had done to them lingered in their mind. Of everything they treasured and ended up losing, all because of them.

And yet, they couldn't bring themselves to be as rude as they wanted. Because Longan seemed content. Peaceful, almost. Freed from all that violence, albeit not from all their hatred.

—Isn’t it truly beautiful? A realm of Dragons… without these weak pests that existed until not so long ago.

—......Yeeeeah. Very beautiful. Guess your efforts… your efforts did pay off in the end, hm?

It felt almost gross to have to falsely compliment them for the sake of their ignorance. To keep them unaware, unquestioning.

In response, they smiled. Not a grin, not baring fangs. A genuine, gentle smile. That reached their eyes, unlike their usual violent ones.

—It couldn't have been possible without you. A true Dragon, you have become, by following my orders… your loyalty must also be noticed.

Loyalty. Tch. Lychee wished they could smash their scythe into their skull, crack it open, and kill whatever was wrong with them. Or just kill them. They deserved it.

And yet, despite how uncomfortable they felt, it helped relieve some of their previous stress. To know that they could keep their facade and mind well enough to fake it in front of them. To make it work.

—To stand there awkwardly… There is no need. Come, come closer. I was just observing the newly hatched wyverns. Are they not precious?

—Precious. Yeah, yeah. What about them?

—They are so far below us. This is a life I could crush with only one of my claws. Add its blood to the tea, its scales to my cloak…

—...Longan?

—And yet, look at the way it trusts me. Not only obeys, but trusts me. It willingly came to my hand the moment I extended it… these are species worthy of mercy. Species that do not rebel, do not destroy the world I have created.

The Wyvern hatchling didn't seem uncomfortable in Longan's claws at all. It sat there like a parrot. A featherless, but scaly parrot that did not talk back.

Yet Longan did not squash the life out of it. They allowed the little creature to perch upon their hand, as if it were a tree branch, until it became ready to take flight once away.

Longan took a sip from a cup they were holding. Of… tea. How original. Steam could be visible from it, clashing against how cold the air got atop this mountain, on the windowless gazebo.

—I cannot tell whether this little creature has been drawn to me by my essence, or by the scent of tea. One thing remains clear, though. It will grow into a big wyrm. One that will remain below us, but will keep any… mistakes from rising in the food chain.

Mistakes. Hm. Lychee shuffled a bit awkwardly in their place, knowing very well a “mistake” was roaming around this land, unknown to Longan.

—Still can't stop thinking about those… silly little mortals, eh? They are gone, Longan! Get over it! We won, that's… that's all. Yeah.

—...Perhaps that is all. And yet, I cannot help but still dislike the mere thought of them. Some memories… deserve to be forgotten. Buried underground.

They sighed, their gaze falling into one of mild sadness. As if genuinely loathing their own memory, this once.

No amount of false, forged memories could fully change them. Even if in their mind, they had won and things had gone their way… their irrational hatred for these lowly beings remained intact. Even if most of it had been channeled into the Specter.

—Do you wish to indulge in some tea? Your breath is cold, Lychee. For us Fruit Dragons, being too cold is no good. I can even teach you how to make your own tea, if you desire.

—A-ah? Tea? Well… yeah, yeah, sure thing. Why not? Who… who doesn't enjoy a cup of tea, eheh?

Lychee hasn't even noticed how dangerously close to collapsing they had been until they had to move again. Hoping Longan wouldn't notice, they made their way next to them, arms leaning on the gazebo’s handrail.

The Wyvern hatchling on Longan's took flight. Little wings flapping inconsistently, yet managing to sustain itself through the air. With no push, no harsh teaching.

Lychee had made sure all these illusory species had no need to go through Longan's idea of upbringing.

They still held their own cup in their hand, taking one final sip before they snapped their claws.

—You see… I have found a rather helpful assistant, Lychee. Loyal as well.

Much to Lychee's distaste, the Specter showed up again. Its massive body temporarily blocking the view and the sunlight, casting shadows upon the already cold gazebo.

In its claws, a teapot was carefully held. Lent out to Longan, it paid absolutely no attention to the Violet Dragon. It was better that way.

It didn't make it any less awkward, though.

But alas, its presence had only been required for the teapot to be handed to Longan. Their claws picked it up from its own ones - judging by the slight steam that came from it, the tea prepared inside was still warm as if prepared on the spot.

Lychee watched the short exchange. Longan giving a polite nod to the Specter. It reciprocating, bowing down it's head a little. Before eventually flying away. A short encounter… but one Lychee wouldn't have allowed to take place if they still held full control over the spell.

—It is incredible, how I have found in this Paradise another part of my own self. Isn't it, Lychee?

—Y-yeah, Lomgan… incredible.

—It is an anomaly. A very convenient anomaly in this Paradise, that eases my loneliness in this gazebo I call my nest. Inconsistencies like that is what makes reality worth living. Worth fixing, adapting to.

—...mhm.

They suddenly felt drained of energy. Unable to muster up a more coherent response than a mumble, leaning most of their weight against the handrail as Longan served them a cup of tea.

—I usually do not like things to change. But this is… a pleasant change. For that, I thank you, for without your intervention it would have been impossible to achieve do.

A cup was lent out to the Violet Dragon. Purple and white porcelain, with a crystal handle. A reddish brown water sat inside, steamy still, with a slight scent of honey and flowers.

—It is longan tea. My favorite. I vaguely recall you trying it millennia ago… so be my guest, Lychee, and drink. It will help with the dizziness.

Lychee could still see the remains of the herbs and the dried longan fruits, settled on the bottom of the cup. The expertise of the Longan Dragon reached even beverages that would usually be simple to make.

Rambutan would have told them to not drink it. They didn't know the exact recipe, and Longan was skilled at deceiving others. What was stopping them from lying and giving them a poisoned drink? From pretending to be content before killing them from the inside?

And yet, Longan's gaze was… peaceful. It was probably the first time Lychee had seen those blind eyes gaze at the same direction without drifting away, the first time they seemed focused on something. As if their mind was, for once, clear of visions and voices. Clear of pain. Achieving a peace on it they were undeserving of.

How could have they done all that and still find peace?

But it's better this way. They know that. It's better for them to be content and delusional, rather than angry and delusional.

So, Lychee drank. Bringing the cup to their dried lips with shaky hands, they took a sip. It was warm, and tasted like… dates.

Did it help with the dizziness? No, not yet. Being around Longan on its own was magnifying that sensation. But it did erase the taste of rot that lingered on their throat. Whatever had threatened to spill out of it, had faded thanks to it.

—I can sense you're feeling better, Lychee Dragon. You sound less agitated already.

Longan made that remark for a reason. Their breath had evened out, if only a little bit. No longer on the verge of whatever the dragon equivalent to a heart attack was. It didn't have as much to do with the tea as it did with the fact they were now in a resting position, lowering their guard.

That didn't mean they felt any better, though. The turmoil inside their mind wouldn't go away with fancy words and tea.

—Better…? Yes, yes I am… a looot better. Thanks for worrying!

They forced themselves to give a cheerful response. They couldn't let Longan catch on to their exhaustion. They couldn't let them question the source of it. In their eyes, Lychee had been doing nothing but enjoying their role as the ruler of this Paradise.

Lychee wouldn't be able to keep on changing their memories and thoughts through magic for so long. Their strength was all channeled towards keeping this Paradise vast and bountiful, enough for them to be pleased enough.

—...You know. I meant to ask some time ago. Why'd you pick the tallest point to install your new nest at, instead of, dunno, a lake or something like that? Isn't it too… too cold here for ya’?

An attempt at striking conversation. Even if Lychee did not really care for whatever their answer might have possibly been, they needed to look natural.

—Indeed, cold it is. During the nights, when I cannot bask in the sun, even my blood freezes. In those moments, like a stone statue I feel once again.

—Then why stay here? Y'know… you could go somewhere else. This Paradise is very vast and big and… and vast.

—...I don't have a clear answer to that. I suppose I have always been comfortable alone. Where I can see and be seen, but I can touch and remain untouchable.

—That sounds boring! You sit here alone, except for, like… little wyrms and birds and that Spectre!

—And yet I am most comfortable alone. I no longer fear hurt, no longer fear Cane-Wielding filth ending my life. I feel at ease when I am by myself.

Lychee frowned, gaze settling into their still half-full cup of tea rather than on the other. They couldn't see their reflection on the brownish beverage, but they didn't need to do so to know that their face couldn't conceal how… wrong that struck them.

—...Comfortable and at peace while alone, you say? Does that mean… that means all those centuries spent around not just me, but the others too, have been…

—Draining, indeed. I had foreseen their betrayals. Their lies. How things would take the wrong turn. How they deluded themselves into believing a world with mortals was possible for us to thrive in.

—...Right. Their betrayals. So unjustified and… and yeah, that.

—You, however. Have remained loyal. A smart creature. You were mature enough to comprehend and sympathize with my plans, even at a young age. And it has paid off. Look at the fruit of our hard work, Lychee.

That last part made Lychee almost spit out the tea back onto the cup.

Witches, they had for a moment forgotten how disgusting the one they were talking to truly was.

—...Tsk. Glad you think that.

They said through gritted fangs, trying to conceal their irritation. Longan's words, even when not actively using their despair manipulation powers - not like they could use them here - always managed to hit a nerve.

It took too long for Lychee to realize why. But now they knew. They had known ever since Longan had completely derailed their plans, causing Rambutan to-

—Guess you're happy now. Haven't seen you happy like this in… forever. Do you remember when we defeated the Stone Dragons?

—I do remember, indeed. My memory is absolute. Inalterable. But what do it, Lychee?

—...You seemed kinda sad back then. Out numbers… Only four of us remained.

—But we didn't go extinct back then, did we? It was out fate. To rule alone, in a world that wouldn't have allowed for us to rule without violence and loss.

—Yeah, yeah, I get it. I… I get it. Do you think that… hadn't it been for the war, none of this would have been necessary?

Lychee was talking too much. And they knew it. Putting a hazed mind to work, a brain that was kept in a peaceful trance to think and rationalize its emotions. It could very well spiral down.

But they needed to know if Longan felt… anything. Any remorse, any guilt. Anything. Even if the response wouldn't be a honest one, thanks to the spell.

—...The path of the ruler is a lonely one. Those on the top will always face great loss and pain. Stopping to grieve in the middle of a war… it would have killed us, Lychee, to think of it back then.

—But it won't kill us now. So, what of it? Do you, like, regret anything? Or was everything necessary? The blood, the violence… what of it?

Their claws clenched around the cup, bringing it to their mouth again in an attempt to ease themselves. Suddenly, the slightly frutal taste felt almost bitter.

Longan didn't frown. Their face didn't change, as these blind eyes stared at the almost white sun on the sky, wind brushing their clothes and hair.

—Everything was necessary. Every setback, every loss… every betrayal. Everything happens for a reason. The downfall of our Kin… yes, that also happened for a reason.

—Do you think things would… you know. Been different if some things hadn't happened?

—But they would happen anyway. I had foreseen it. Kept some of us alive, against all odds… but the end result remained the same. What point is there in crying over inevitable losses and lies?

—...How do you… how…

—How do I manage to keep myself sane knowing all that? Oh, Lychee. I thought you were smart enough to know I don't. Not at all. It takes some insanity to bear the weight of omnipresence, of clairvoyance.

…

Lychee was, somehow, disappointed. Despite the fact they never had any expectations at all. They didn't expect anything to come out of this conversation. And yet it disappointed them.

To think Longan's values, to the core, would never change. No spell, no brainwashing. Nothing could be done. A lost cause, they were. A mind too fixated into their own logic, becoming a prisoner of a mentality that would kill them eventually.

They forced themselves to finish the tea. It would be a shame for the beverage to go to waste, after all. And it'd be better to warm up their body a little - going down the Palace, through clouds and stairs, would be a bit cold.

—But do not feel disappointed. I can see it in your face, how you are. Insanity doesn't always have to imply violence. Not anymore. I have merely decided to detach myself from guilts and regrets that shackled me to the ground. But I am at peace that way.

—Even when there's no sentient creature left besides us… and your hatchling?

—...Yes. Even so.

They sighed. That look in their eyes didn't change at all. It remained content and peaceful, grateful for the existence of this realm where they could finally be at ease.

Lychee felt sick looking at such a wicked creature being able to experience such things as peace and contentment. While they themselves struggled to even stand now. The one that ruined it all, able to achieve happiness. The one that tried to fix it all, was locked away from it.

Almost ridiculous.

—I believe this conversation to be going nowhere now, Lychee. We have been repeating our points for… the past few minutes.

—...Agreed. Honestly, just wanted to make sure you were still… alive or something. That you hadn't been jumped by wyverns!

—No need to check. Though, I do appreciate your intentions… I also appreciate my loneliness. This conversation has come to an end, Lychee.

They weren't being necessarily rude or mean about it. In fact, they phrased it like a statement - like it was a matter of fact that this talk had ended, and both were to return to their lonesome routines in this Paradise.

—Yeah! Yeah, I get it, heheee…! So. I'll come back eventually, ‘kay? Don't wipe any species off the face of the Earth or something!

Lychee tried to joke, handing them back the now empty cup. Even though their body indeed felt warmer, the disappointment ate at them from the inside.

That and some other feeling they cannot quite describe. Dread? Hatred? Something.

Not even their content expression and relaxed behavior was enough to make Lychee lower their guard completely. As if they expected a backstab, or a nasty surprise of sorts.

Like the times they'd grab their wings in the past, and hold on to them until Lychee learned to wriggle free of any potential maws or claws holding onto them. Like they'd turn, attack them, and expect them to defend themselves - under a guise such as “Paradise doesn't grant safety to the weak”

But nothing of the sorts happened as they began to walk away, scythe in hand. Only a click of Longan's tongue caught their attention one last time.

—My Creation will be waiting for you on the middle levels of the Palace if you descend through the stairs. Make sure to at least greet them. Be a good example, will you?

They were back watching the landscape over the handrail, back once again turned away from the entrance.

Lychee didn't respond to their last words. They should and could have uttered a goodbye of sorts. But they didn't.

They left. Silently, calmly. Too tired to joke and make a dramatic scene out of their departure like they usually would have. For once, they wished to be unnoticeable. For Longan to not see the unshed tears in their eyes as they began to descend.

The Spectre didn't come back. It was as if it had only cared enough to carry Lychee to the top of the palace, rather than back down. With their wings feeling too heavy to fly, they'd have to walk all the way down, through rock stairs, platforms, and palace segments.

No big deal. They could do it. In the past, their legs were strong. One kick could rip an entire jaw off a Stone Dragon's face.

The issue was the present. Their legs? Like jelly. Wobbly, unstable, relying on their tail and scythe for support. Even so, it was hard to not fall right there on the spot on their knees.

The temptation to jump off the mountain and take flight just before becoming a splat on the ground… no, no, nonsense! Their wings wouldn't even open if they did that, the idea of perishing here nagging at their mind. Better to stay away from any dangerous activities, less their self control breaks.

Step by step, they made progress. Leaving behind Longan's quarters, the flowery trees and cold airs, they went down bridges and stairs. After all, the Palace was built all across the mountain - an ascending structure that, weren't the mountain not tall enough, would reach the skies.

And get split in half, hopefully. Like some lizard had been not long ago. Lychee chuckled at that. In their ventures through Earthbread, they had heard tales of some black and white creature getting split in two… how long ago, four hundred years? Five perhaps? Before most modern kingdoms had been founded.

Longan also knew the fate that snake had met. It was an unspoken consensus among the few remaining Dragons that such a creature was to not be spoken about. A shame, a disappointment to Dragonkind, it was. That was the only thing all Dragons agreed on.

Though here, no Dragons besides the Specter dared lurk or fly near the Palace. Only young wyrms and birds did so. Lychee thought it was better that way, to keep the false Dragons away from this part of the Paradise. To avoid needless confrontations that their mind wouldn't be able to deal with.

Looking down at the rock stairs, they noticed how little puddles of water formed on them. The morning humidity didn't reach the top of the mountain - for them to accidentally step a hoof onto a puddle of it, they must be halfway through by now.

So they kept on walking. Oddly silent, for someone used to talking to themselves for hours. They lacked the energy necessary to keep on talking, after all.

Until they reached the middle levels of the Palace. Where their own quarters were - and where that… hatchling creature lived, as well. Witches, Longan… not even able to take care of their creation themselves?

Lychee felt conflicted about it. Letting it exist on the illusion was a liability, a risk. But it was, to all meanings, a child. Gullible, easy to manipulate. If let out, Longan could potentially use it to link their mind back to the real world. If kept on here, maintaining the illusion for them drained Lychee a noticeable bit more.

But they didn't have the heart to get rid of the creature. It wasn't its fault, being brought into a world that didn't need not desire them. In a way… it was up to them to make sure Longan's words didn't stick to them.

That day was the “Paradisetional day of Going Against Their Better Judgement”, they thought.

Despite being tempted to just reach their nest and break down or just pass out… they decided to follow Longan's words, and at least grace the hatchling with a greeting. Give them some company for a few minutes.

So there they went. Going through halls and rooms that were mostly unused. Coming across some purposefully blank spaces not meant to be explored, that didn't exist unless they were actively paying attention to them - spaces no hatchling would be in, but still needed to be kept in check.

They never bothered remembering where that kid had built their nest in specifically. It could be anywhere. Even on the rooftop, or atop a tree. Who knows. Hatchlings were always a mess to be around with.

And they weren't Longan. Not like they could go back up and ask for them to sense and find the damn creature themselves.

They didn't run through the hallways like they used to before. They'd definitely collapse if they did. At this point, it'd be better to simply turn their scythe into a cane and lean fully on it, given how their wings, made to protect, were no longer strong enough to carry them.

But not rushing made them more perceptive. In the distance, they heard a sound. An instrument. A calm melody played not so far away…

…in the Chamber of the Captive Souls.

In their nest.

They still didn't rush. They physically couldn't. But they hurried their steps a little, the black wooden floors leading to the crystal ones of the entrance. Their new nest still welcomed them - as brightly as if the spell had lost none of its strength.

And there she was. Or. Well. There they were.

Rambutan sat on the stairs, on the part that led to the vast lakes and trees that unfurled behind it. Her back laid against the window frame, a traverse flute softly upheld against her lips. The source of the melody.

That wasn't what surprised Lychee the most. It was the hatchling on her lap. Dragon Eye, for once not bossing every creature around or causing chaos. Their stomach flat against her lap, they slept soundly. Entranced by the melody, by the sound of the serene lake waves, the poor kid had found release from Longan's voice and command.

Lychee couldn't help but relax as well. Like a serpent, they were naturally drawn to the music, their body finally fully slouching as their guard was lowered.

Not enough for the spell to falter yet, but enough to not be on guard. Longan wasn't here. Nobody was here. Except for them, her, and the asleep child.

—...Didn't know you played an instrument.

She didn't stop playing. Her eyes, which had been previously closed, opened for a second to glance at them - a small wink given before closing again, focusing fully on the instrument in their hands.

After all, a flute needs coordination. To keep your breath calm and steady, your fingers unwavering. Like fighting, in a way. Aware of everything, but simultaneously carried by your instincts.

Lychee took that as an invitation to approach. Slowly, leaving their scythe next to where she had left her own spear - the two weapons always seemed to be together, be it in the clash of battle or left behind to enjoy peace - they moved through flowers and hanging lights to sit next to her, their hooves clicking as softly as possible against the crystal floor.

They didn't lean in too much, as to not stop her movements or shake the sleeping creature. Rather, their back relaxed against one of the windows, right next to her. Tail and wings finally dropping low, they stared at the ceiling of their own little Chamber.

Their own reflection stared back at them. From the crystalline lights, they could see it. And yet… it wasn't a disheveled one. It was their reflection. Simple and plain like that. Their present. Not their future, not their past.

Not a crack in the spell or in their mind. Just a reflection. Something that would be inevitably found everywhere, with no purpose in particular.

And this time they didn't get lost on it. Their gaze tiredly moved back to Rambutan's body, as she played the instrument. They could see some stiffness in her fingers, getting a note or two wrong, as if she had learned all by herself with no help. Like usual.

But that's what made her… her. Even in this false realm, even if this Rambutan was just mere remains of a soul intertwined with their spell and desires… it was still her, to a degree.

The same one who learned to use a spear against trees or monsters. Same one who could dislocate a shoulder and still attempt to carry someone to safety. Same one who was willing to perish for those she cared for.

Same one who, despite all, remained… herself. Even if not fully, even if her life was tainted by Lychee's selfish desires, she was still herself in a way. Someone who learned alone and efficiently, to deliver for others.

The melody didn't feel like that, though. It felt like something that came from a faint memory of the past, translated into a somewhat messy string of sounds that pleasantly came from the instrument.

—...Heh. Found my weakness, Rambu. We Dragons adore music, did’ja know?

They let a chuckle. Rambutan seemed tempted to reciprocate, almost stopping for a second.

They glanced at her again. Truly looking now. They saw the Dragon Scales on her waist - tied to a string, like a small belt of sorts. White. Probably fallen from the Specter, in its constant movement across treetops and rocks.

Smart. Dragon Eye wouldn't distinguish her from an actual Dragon. Alarms wouldn't be raised neither in them nor in their creator. Lychee knew Rambutan was smart, and even inside this realm she proved herself to be time and time again.

Lychee's eyes closed, a sigh leaving them. Witches, they were tired. Standing up, moving, talking… It felt tiring sometimes. They still had enough energy to maintain the spell, to keep things in control.

Then the music stopped, the flute placed on the ground. They could feel her move a little, an arm brought to Dragon Eye’s head - gently scratching it.

—Didn’t think you'd come, Lychee. I'm… glad you did. I still need practice, you know.

—Bah, nonsense. Practice or not… for me, it's perfect. It's not a life or death matter you need to fully perfect, y'know?

—Heh… yes, you're right. I can allow myself to make a little mistake or two. After all, I'm… still learning.

—Lotus would have loved to teach you that. They know a lot about instruments, y'know.

—There was no time. I never had time back then, really. And now that I do… I don't know what to do with it. Until we restore my Tribe… I have let myself learn a new skill or two.

She seemed happy, too. Slightly tired. Like a normal human who no longer hid all her emotions for the sake of others. Honesty was one of those skills both had begun to learn, to a degree. Even if there were still buried secrets between them.

Lychee nuzzled slightly against her armor's shoulder pad. If only they could convince her to take it off at times… but she seemed comfortable in their creation.

—Is it not… wonderful, in a way? You have now the time to worry both about your tribe and other things now!

She chuckled. A genuine little chuckle. She didn't seem as pained at mentions of her tribe anymore. The pain was there, yes - her worry for them, the need to have them back, still as strong.

But she wasn't drowning on it anymore. She wasn't falling through her pain, her every thought no longer revolved around her responsibilities. And she seemed happy with it.

Lychee was conflicted about it. In a way, they had erased part of her personality, and replaced it with a mindless indulgence in what they thought was best for her.

But on the other side… both were happy. Conflicted, tangled in their own mental turmoils still. But capable of being happy. Of being together now. And that was all that Lychee needed.

Careful to not shake her too much, their claws gently took her chin. Leaning forward with the last of their strength, their lips met - gently, softly, Lychee having to pay attention to not cut her with their own venomous fangs.

She reciprocated. She always did, in this realm. Leaning forward slightly, although in a bit of a funny position as to not wake up the kid that slept stop her legs, she returned the kiss.

It didn't last long. It was no big deal. It wasn't a passionate one, it wasn't them devouring each other with an insatiable hunger. It was just. That. A kiss. A demonstration of love, small and innocent, that had no need to become intense - the message had been delivered and received by both ends of it, even with how fast it went by.

—...Your lips taste of Tea. You know, I managed to make decent one today.

—...Heh. as expected from you, Rambu. Aaaaalways so quick to adapt, to figure things out. I'm dying to try your discovery!

—Heh, no need to be so eager. It's just tea. Something warm, since the days have been getting a bit colder, you know.

She chuckled, straightening her posture once again, picking up the flute from the floor next to her. Lychee secretly snapped their claws - manipulating a small detail.

Little animals seemed to creep from the lake or the air. A few frogs, some fish. Even the young wyvern from before, that had now managed to fly to the ground. As Rambutan picked back up the music, a new melody this time, those few beings gathered in the lake next to them. Watching. Enjoying. The same way the true Emperor of this Paradise enjoyed it.

Lychee smiled softly, as they felt their consciousness slipping from them. Not in the way it did when they collapsed, when they'd fall flat against the ground for no reason. No. Like the hatchling had done when going to sleep. Content, slowly, calmly. Knowing they'll wake up soon, in the same place.

Unharmed, untouched. In a place that was theirs, even if it was false. With no orbs staring, no plans to carry on besides maintaining their only current plan. They began to fall asleep to the sound of her flute.

Even if it was a bit out of tune, even if she messed some notes thanks to her gloved hands… they still found it perfect. Would the real Rambutan enjoy playing as much as this one did? Would she have ever learned if things had gone the right way?

…They chose to believe she would.