Honey Wine Ch.23

Chapter 23: Hug

After finishing this tragic yet uninteresting account of his past, Veles fell silent again for a while.

His gaze settled on the hand that Alan was using to tug at his sleeve. It was a mage’s hand—slender fingers, a thin, soft palm. Such a hand could form nimble spell gestures with ease, and if they were to hold hands… Veles could effortlessly envelop it within his own.

Oh. Holding hands.

The moment that thought crossed his mind, a sharp pain pierced his heart.

He and Alan could never have any connection again—this was precisely why he only dared to stare at his own sleeve. At this very moment, he did not even have the courage to lift his head and meet Alan’s eyes.

A demon dragon.

Anyone born on this continent knew the terrifying implications behind that word.

Demon dragons represented the utmost blasphemy, filth, and darkness.

They possessed power beyond description, and souls that had utterly fallen.

They poisoned everything around them—greedy and hollow, creatures with nothing that could be called “thought” beyond devouring and killing.

Even merely gazing upon them could invite curses of petrification or blindness.

Not to mention the places they passed through: for hundreds of years afterward, any land stained by a demon dragon’s footprints would be barren, choked with poisonous swamps.

Even their corpses, left behind after death, would become dreadful hazards, spreading unending plagues and lethal toxins.

…

In the past, beings like Veles would have been executed the very moment they were born.

Yet whether by fortune or misfortune, Veles’s mother was Alfied’s most powerful queen to date. And this formidable ruler bore another identity as well—she was the sole disciple of the Archmage, one of the foremost great mages on the continent.

No matter what, the queen could not accept that her child would be brutally killed before ever touching the human world. By her own strength alone, she forcibly spared Veles’s life.

Veles survived, but that did not mean he was granted a bright life.

In truth, Veles grew up amid ceaseless malice, fear, curses, and revulsion. Even the queen who had spared no effort to keep him alive found it hard to suppress the fear in her heart as Veles became ever more draconic with time.

Of course, the queen concealed that fear and avoidance very well.

It was simply that Veles was far too perceptive.

He had always been adept at sensing human malice—this was precisely why he had managed to live until now.

He had long since grown accustomed to dealing with the disgust others directed at him.

Except for this once.

Veles knew perfectly well that even if Alan still bore him goodwill, once he learned of that curse, he could not remain unmoved.

He would avoid him.

Perhaps he would be unable to restrain that fear and revulsion.

That was only natural.

Veles whispered this to himself in his heart.

And yet, he knew just as clearly that as he thought this, his chest felt as though it had become a hollow stone cavern—utterly dark, utterly cold.

At the root of his tongue, it was as if he were holding a bitter gall from a venomous flood dragon.

The bitterness was almost enough to melt his throat.

“I’m very sorry to hear all this…”

Then Veles heard Alan’s voice.

“Isn’t there any way to lift the curse?”

“No.” Veles replied dully.

“But according to the spellbooks, if there is a curse, then there must be a way to undo it—just as if there is shadow in this world, there must also be light. Otherwise, the curse itself couldn’t exist at all…” Alan muttered despondently.

At that, Veles finally couldn’t help lifting his head to look at Alan.

He suspected he was hallucinating.

Alan looked heartbroken.

The slender human mage, pale from lack of sleep, had his brow tightly furrowed, his eyes filled with worry and sympathy.

Yes—nothing but sympathy, sympathy for a friend who had no choice but to bear such a dreadful curse.

Nothing more than that.

Veles did not sense even the faintest trace of wariness in Alan.

The moment he realized this, a wave of dizziness washed over him.

He had once heard that people who lived in lands of extreme cold could survive by walking constantly through that bitter chill—but if such people were brought into a warm little hut, they would rapidly perish as their bodies broke down.

In a daze, Veles felt that he himself was that lone traveler who had always walked through the extreme cold.

And when he looked at Alan—into those eyes unshadowed by any darkness—it was as if he were seeing that warm little hut, warm enough to completely melt his muscles and skin.

“Y-you… aren’t afraid?” Veles asked, enunciating each word.

He thought he was calm, but only when he spoke did he realize he was trembling slightly.

Alan blinked, a beat slow before turning to look at Veles.

And in that brief instant of his hesitation, Veles felt as though even his heartbeat had frozen solid.

“Is Mr. Veles about to turn into a demon dragon?” Alan asked anxiously.

Veles stiffly shook his head.

“The people from the Mage Tower have sealed my power. I don’t think I’ll turn into that thing anytime soon.” After a pause, he added in a near whisper, “You don’t need to worry. If there’s ever a chance I might lose control, someone will be responsible for killing me before I become a demon dragon.”

He stared straight at Alan, as if adding those words might somehow salvage something.

Alan sucked in a small breath.

“Peh, peh, peh—don’t say something so awful.”

The black-haired mage instinctively raised his hand and covered Veles’s pale, icy lips.

The distance between them shortened.

Once again, Veles felt the warmth radiating from Alan.

Thump—

Thump—

Thump—

The frozen heart, at this moment, slowly began to beat again.

“Mr. Veles, if you won’t turn into a demon dragon in the near future… does that mean we can actually keep being friends?” Alan bit his lip and asked softly.

Veles didn’t answer.

A blush spread across Alan’s cheeks. His anxiety made his eyes glisten slightly, and his lips grew even redder as he nervously nibbled at them.

“What I mean is—if I’m not afraid of curses or demon dragons, then you don’t have to avoid me anymore, right, Mr. Veles? I… I’m really not afraid!” Alan emphasized it again in a rush.

Veles’s throat bobbed.

He suddenly lifted his hand and grasped Alan’s wrist. Only then did Alan realize that he was still covering the man’s lips—he had truly been frightened by the tone Veles used earlier, every word steeped in a heavy sense of death.

He hurriedly let go, in his fluster overlooking the fleeting warmth and dampness that brushed across his palm.

In some ways, Alan really had awakened the dragon nature Veles had suppressed for a long time.

He couldn’t help himself—his forked tongue lightly licked the other’s palm.

And then, in a haze, the silver-eyed bearer of dragon blood tasted exactly what he had imagined.

Exceptionally sweet—like a perfectly ripened peach.

“You’re not afraid?”

Veles’s pupils constricted. With great effort, he gathered a shred of composure and asked again in disbelief.

Alan smiled at him.

“Why should I be afraid? You said it yourself, Mr. Veles—your curse won’t act up anytime soon.”

The black-haired mage stood there for a moment, thought about it, then decided to follow his instincts. He stretched out his arms and hugged the tall, powerful man tightly.

“Mr. Veles, you don’t have to be afraid either.”

He gently patted Veles’s solid back, his voice softening.

“No matter what, I’ll stay with you,” he said.

——————————————————————

Author’s Note:

Today, too, we’re very good friends! —by Alan

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