"...And they defeated the Dragons and lived happily ever after several hundred years to come."

The gentle voice belonged to an elderly woman who was reading out loudly from a storybook.

After she was done, she closed the thick-covered yet colourful book that sat flat on her laps.

She was reading the fantasy story to a younger male child whose facial expression soon went from happy to sombre as soon as the story reached its end.

The little boy was evidently sad that the story had ended.

The book, Tale of the Magus and Dragons, had been his favourite of all the stories that the elderly woman had ever read to him.

The reason was simple.

The story gave him a perfect escape from his reality.

Many a times, he would find himself constantly imagining what sort of world existed within that beautiful piece of fiction.

These thoughts usually brought smiles to his face whenever he had them.

Of course, the Tale of the Magus and Dragons would be his favourite.

"Can we read it again, grandma?" he pleaded with his grandmother in a low, soft tone of voice that held his heart's sincerest desire.

The elderly woman looked at her grandchild and smiled warmly at him as she gently played with his long black hair.

"But this is already your twelfth read, my dear Noah. Do you like the story that much?"

The little boy, Noah, nodded his head several times and a smile appeared on his face as she responded to his grandmother.

"Mmm," he muttered, still continuously bobbing his head. "I love it very much, grandma. So pleaseeee…!"

His crimson eyes enlarged and bubbled with a tender spark as he begged his grandmother for a thirteenth read of the story.

His cheerful, honest, childish spirit touched the old woman's heart and she smiled at him, lightly pressing her reading eyeglasses over the bridge of her nose to keep it steady.

"Okay, my dear," she said as she rose from the rocking chair that was next to Noah's bed.

She pulled the blanket over the little boy and leaned in to kiss him, a gesture that Noah replicated and slightly sat up.

In his rush, he accidentally kissed her grandma at the corner of her lips, missing her cheek, and they both smiled as the old woman kissed his forehead back and stroked his hair.

"...but not today," she said, pressing a finger on his forehead.

"We will start it all over again tomorrow, okay?"

Not minding what time they would have the re-reading, Noah was just happy that she had agreed to his request.

Just as the old woman was about to leave the room, the little boy started coughing — loud, harsh, chest-tearing cough.

The strain and stress it put on his small fragile body were evident in the sound of the cough and his face as well.

Worried, she turned around to watch her grandson while at the same time, looking around the room for his medicine.

Noah rubbed his chest to calm himself and as the bouts of cough reduced with time, he started to take slow, measured breaths.

"Have you taken your medicine, dear?"

Noah nodded in agreement.

"Yes, grandma. Not too long ago," the boy answered.

"A teaspoon of the red syrup and two pills from the black pills!" he exclaimed, reciting his prescription to the old woman.

The elderly woman faked a smile to umbrella the profound worry in her heart as she approved his recitation with a nod.

She didn't want to sadden the child, whom she was sure was sharp enough to pick even the slightest change in her mood.

The elderly woman played it out well, allowing the boy the much happiness that he could find even with the disease that was ravaging his life by the second.

"Good night, dear," the old woman said, blowing a good night's kiss to her grandson. "Sleep tight and…"

"...don't let the bed bugs bite!" Noah cheerfully finished his grandma's sentence.

"Good night, grandma!"

The old lady left the room and shut the door after her.

As soon as she stepped out, her emotions ran loose and overwhelmed her.

She removed her glasses as tears streamed down from the corners of her eyes.

Realising that the little boy might catch wind of what was happening outside his room, she moved away from Noah's room and walked back to her room, sniffling and crying.

She couldn't hold it in any longer.

She couldn't bear to see the little child in her care suffer anymore.

Noah was thirteen now and was going to turn fourteen soon and yet he had not lived life like other kids his age.

He didn't know life like his peers did because he was always bedridden.

It was a sad state but it couldn't be helped.

After all, they had done everything they could, but to no avail.

Noah had never known freedom or what the world outside was. He could only imagine those things whenever grandma told him stories about them.

In fact, Noah living this long was considered a miracle.

…But the old woman knew that the inevitable was still going to happen.

She never wished for it but she still anticipated it.

It was unavoidable.

When Noah was diagnosed with an illness at the age of four, his grandma had been told that it would be a divine miracle if he lived past the age of ten.

And even if that did happen, fourteen years was the known maximum age of life for such persons like him.

Noah was all she had left in this life.

Noah was all she loved in her long life.

If she could take years from the eighties that she had lived, and the ones that remained, to offer him just so he could have a longer life, she would do it without any hesitation and with her whole heart at that.

Sadly, that wasn't possible.

Not in their world.

Noah's mother had died during childbirth from losing too much blood.

It was unfortunate that what had killed her was something that could have been handled, only that they couldn't afford such a level of care.

Even with the pleas they made, the reality of life had been too harsh on her daughter.

They had barely managed to pay off the bills for the childbirth and that incident had cost Noah's father almost everything he had at that time.

All these memories assaulted the old woman at once and turned her into a shrivelled sack of unstable emotions.

Every time Noah showed signs of going into an acute crisis, grandma would panic and hold her heart in her hands.

Terrifying anxiety would grip her soul and drag her into an abyss of endless worry.

It was only natural that she would feel this way.

Her daughter — Noah's mother — who was her bundle of joy had passed on, leaving a cute, little male baby behind.

Noah's father, their protector, had also passed from a tragic work accident.

After his wife's death, he worked tooth and nail to make sure he provided for his mother-in-law and his newborn son.

Even if it meant working multiple jobs, the young man didn't care.

As long as it would put food on their table, he would do it.

Sadly, he had to go to work sick one fateful day, and despite his mother-in-law's advice to get some rest, he refused.

Noah's father believed that if he took a few days off then his managers might deem him unfit for work and dismiss him.

He believed that, in itself, would be more devastating for him than the sickness he was experiencing.

With a smile, he discharged his mother-in-law's concerns and promised to return to her and his son by the end of the day.

By the end of the day, he hadn't returned and Noah's grandmother had to wait it out until the next morning.

That morning came and another tragedy rocked her heart and soul to no end.

One year prior to that day, her daughter had died and now, she saw a group of people carrying the lifeless body of her son-in-law to their home, telling her that he had fallen and landed on his head.

Noah's father died on the spot, before any medical help could even reach him.

Just like that, he was gone too.

Her heart shattered into many irreparable pieces and she nearly collapsed.

Ravaged by the memories of her tragedies, the old woman wiped her tears and said a silent prayer in her heart for the child.

******

Present day, later at night.

Noah had drifted into a deep sleep but within this realm of slumber, he was in panic, thanks to a nightmare.

He turned tirelessly on his bed as he dreamt of several dragons flying towards him in a hot chase.

The young boy had been so immersed in the story — The Tale of the Magus and the Dragons — that he was living it out in the dream world.

"Noooo!" he unconsciously shouted and jolted up from his bed in panic.

His face was wet with sweat but that was nothing compared to how wet his pillow was right now.

Gripped by the lingering terror of his nightmare, Noah clutched his chest as it started to pound very fast, accompanied by a sharp, stabbing pain that he had just felt.

He was gasping and his breathing was getting harsher by the second.

While he still held the most control of his body, his crimson eyes shot around the room in search of his medicine bottles and finally, he saw them on a table at the corner of the room that was close to the door.

Noah tried to jump off the bed and grab the medicine as fast as he could.

He already knew what was coming and didn't want to delay in taking action.

He had been at death's door several times to recognise when he was there again.

In his rush, the boy slipped and fell, hitting his forehead on the carpeted floor.

His head wobbled instantly from the hard impact.

Noah's breathing ceased and he started gasping severely.

He couldn't shout.

Not that he didn't want to, but he just couldn't.

Whenever he opened his mouth, he had no air in his lungs coupled with the intensely burning pain in his chest.

The little boy struggled, dragging his body as much as he could towards that table.

'My… medicine.'

Seeing his medicine bottles spurred him to keep on trying to reach for them.

Unfortunately, his motivation was not enough to push his body more than he could.

Noah soon reached his limit as his fingers grazed the foot of the table.

In one last attempt to draw closer to it, he fell and didn't rise again.

"Grand…

"...ma."

The word that managed to escape his lips was not more than a whisper.

An instant later, everything went pitch black for the little boy.

Sadly, death had come knocking...

...and she succeeded.