Tremendous breath vapoured into visible white smokes amid the dashing and dulled steps upon the soil. The man penetrated every obstacle that the forest served with the assistance of the biting night wind. There gradually appeared vermillion brightness ahead his descending path, illuminating the dark sky with smokes scourging the atmosphere which was filled with vague horrifying screams. The raging blaze was painted upon his inhuman iris and alerted his leap to halt among the woods. His nails which were as sharp as talons carved the tough bark upon the abrupt stop, while his facial furrowed into the summit of his anger, and the uncanny, golden eyes trembled as he hastily examine the invaded village.

“Seek for the boy, Yifan. There’s no time.”

A heave escaped from his parting lips, for a vision snapped the location of the child he was requested to rescue. Constantly, his long legs descended the hill before he could balance himself, yet not prepared to infiltrate the burning land. Yifan was rather relived that he was in his human form; dressed in his scales as cloth like cloak, which naturally resist fire and could mingle amid the mist and bleakness of night.

Wailing voice of the second-born was what led his path. Yifan busted into the shelter and sought for the boy who has been beneath the embrace of his mildly scorched mother. But panic rose within him as he flipped the deceased body. A hope which just erupted subsides as he discovered her dead, leaving her son unscathed underneath the blanket.

“Hush, child. Don’t you cry,” his whisper emitted like sigh. Yifan gently lifted the vulnerable infant and pulled him closer. His big palm rested upon the crying child’s forehead, only to send warmth which drove the boy into his slumber. Shadows outside were the ones who he feared, whose footsteps were rumbling in groups and slaughtered every soul who crossed their path. The cautious mundane sought for the nearest escape before falling beams crush him alive, and with cloak as black as shadow, Yifan sprung back towards the forest with the precious cargo against the wrath of the frigid wind.

Endless leaps the man has took until the first light of the day shone upon him. The second-born has been securely tucked under his cloak with a wish of the absence of creatures of the wild forest. Rustling trees and morning skylark accompanied his journey amid the dawn. His unremitting steps greeted its end as calm and clear stream finally ended the path, where another soul of his race disguised as a human has been apprehensively awaiting with a basket in her arms. Yifan’s pace decelerated upon seeing the figure.

“Mother?,” he pulled back his hood and remained his gaze towards her. But her eyes screamed affright, followed with her rigid face of fear, “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

“Where’s the child? The second-born?,” her voice shivered as she laid down the basket. Yifan slowly exposed his arm which has been holding the sleeping infant; safe and unharmed, still far from his awakening. The mother sharply inhaled before to his surprise, snatching the boy from his arms.

“What are you doing?! Wh-What—Wait!,” Yifan reached her as fast he could, just restraining her from doing whatever she intended to do.

“I will not risk our people just for this child!,” her yell sent petite birds to flee from their nests with her voice which sounded like roar.

“There’s none left behind! He’s the only Dragontongue we have—!”

Clogged breath forced its way from Yifan’s throat before savaging pain rushed through his veins. His already quivering hands searched for the source of the stinging soreness; his abdomen, only to realised warmth substance like liquid trickled down from his fingers. Fresh blood tainted the soil from where he was standing, while a pair of eyes alike him didn’t bulge over what she has done.

“Forgive me, son,” the unblinking orbs of the mother stabbed the pain even more, “As audacious yet foolish as your father, I’m afraid you’ll only grow to threaten our race.”

The words pierced him deeper like a second blade, slicing his heart and tore down his trust. She pulled back her weapon from his abdomen by degress, revealing a glass dagger defiled with blood. A soft whimper arrived by her ear from Yifan who rested against her shoulder. She ended with a final to the violated skin and profoundly ruptured the scrape of his scale, gaining a gasping cry that vibrated against her torso. The dagger was again drawn back and left a severe opening before Yifan exhaled which seemingly to be last breath. He stumbled and finally collided the ground, breathlessly, witnessing his mother setting the second-born into the weaved container.

The basket embarked by the tranquil stream, gone from his arms, and gone from his sight. His slackened, throbbing heart fought along with his eyes to strive for consciousness, yet only a tear which fell amidst his struggle, knowing that sheer betrayal will be the loyal company to his death. 

A/N: I didn't even have a chapter up yet but you guys hit the subscribe button -even upvotes. A thousand thanks to all of you, and see you on the final chapter!