It was a dark, cold night as the sound of heavy rain pouring over a small village rushed through the night. Large droplets of rain tapped against the cemented wall of a small traditional Chinese house just before the sound of thunderstruck as lightning struck across the dark, cloudy night, above the small village.
Drifting off into the coldness, the sound of a weeping man lingered as he muttered, "Don't… Don't leave me alone…"
The sound of a female voice lingered in the darkness as if she was gasping for air as she muttered, "I'm sorry… For everything…"
A sudden agonizing shriek echoed violently as the sound of an eruption followed shortly after, startling a young boy as he jolted up from laying in his bed. Panting heavily from the sudden shriek of agony, his tiny hands clutched onto his quilted blanket just when thunderstruck over the village once again.
A small white cloth brushed off of his forehead and down in front of him as he looked down at it. He slowly began to rub his head from feeling lightheaded and dizzy from the uneasy nightmare that he had. Feeling that his temperature lowered, he thought, "My fever… It went down…?"
A sharp ringing echoed in the young boy's ear, causing his head to throb as he grunted in pain. "Ugh…" he groaned while placing both his hands against his head.
The ringing grew into the agonizing scream like before as a bloodied girl that was being held by a sobbing man in white hair flashed in his mind. "Ugh... " he thought while fighting back tears, "That boy… He couldn't save her again… Why couldn't he save her…"
Thunderstruck across the sky over the village once again as lightning lit the young boy's small room up. Turning to face the end of his bed, he noticed a flickering light shimmering through the parchment paper on his bedroom doors.
"Why… Why is someone awake this late…?" he muttered while slowly sliding off the edge of his bed.
Slowly sliding the doors open to peek through, the young boy saw a frail man sitting alone at a low wooden guqin Kang table with a lit candle on the far right corner of the table. "Father…?" the young boy called out in concern.
The frail man let out a cough before turning around to see his only son peering through the doors to his room. Seeing tears in his son's vibrant royal blue eyes, he lowered his hands that were holding a bamboo scroll on the table. Extending his frail hand towards the young boy, he spoke after coughing, "Come… Why do you look so sad…?"
The young boy hazily slid through the door and approached his father in his white sleeping Zhong Yi hanfu gown. Rushing over, the young boy hurried into an embrace as he buried his face in his father's hanfu.
The frail man brushed his son's brown hair as he stated, "Your fever has finally lowered… What's wrong, why are you sad…?"
He watched his son peer at him with his teary blue eyes. He listened to him respond, saying, "I keep having those dreams father… About how that man in white couldn't save that girl…"
Hearing his son speak about the dream, the frail man frowned as he listened to his son ask, "What if I don't get strong enough to protect you, mother, and big sister? What if I can't protect any of you guys like him…?"
The young boy listened to his father sigh. He responded, "Everyone is capable of getting strong, son… It just depends on how much dedication and effort they put in to protect others to make a difference…"
"What do you mean?" he asked his father in a frown, "I can't even stop the bullies from bullying me… I can't even be as strong as you, father…"
His father stroked his brown hair as his long dark blue hair fell from behind his ears.
"Being blessed with the dragon blood means being given the power to protect the people around you…" his father said as the thunder struck around them, "You being blessed with the dragon blood means you are destined to protect the future… Like the way I do..."
Sitting in front of his father, the young boy gave his father a troublesome gaze and stated, "I can't be someone like you father… Everyone in this village… Everyone around us all looks up to you because you're a powerful dragon even though you always look sick…"
He watched as his father suddenly burst into laughter in front of him, shocking him as he was left confused about what he said was wrong. Smiling at his son, he responded, "Everyone has the potential of becoming a leader, Mamoru… As I said, it just takes the dedication and effort that you put out there to get people to follow you… I may not have been blessed with a healthy body, however, that doesn't stop me from leading people and keeping them safe…"
Mamoru pouted at his father and asked, "But why do many people look up to you as a leader, knowing that you're frail and sick?"
He looked at his father confused as if he had a question mark over his head. He watched his father rest his hand on his head before ruffling his brown hair before he answered, "A leader will always protect their own comrades no matter how dangerous the situation is… No matter how wounded they are… No matter what appearance they take… And no matter what side they're on… They will always protect their own no matter what they go through…"
Looking up at his father as the shadow under his bangs hid his eyes, Mamoru asked while taking his father's hand, "Do you think the man in my dream was strong?"
"That man in your dream," his father responded with a cough before frowning, "he must've been incredibly strong but went through a lot to not be able to protect her…"
His father continued, "In the future, you will be the one to lead and protect the people around you… After I'm gone, you will need to take over the role of our ancestors to protect everyone in the future… No matter what happens, you must never run away… You and our future generations are our last hope in this endless war…"
The rainy night slowly dispersed as his father's voice trailed away into silence. The sound of birds chirping sang in the morning as the sun began to perk its way out from behind the massive mountains that surrounded the massive empire.
Opening his eyes, a young man slowly rose from lying on his bed before turning to look at the parchment windows as the sunlight was shining through. Looking down at his palm, he said, "That dream…"