Playing hero was a child’s game, waving a wooden sword around and yelling in glee when the harmless weapon hit its mark. Falling into child’s play, clinging to idealistic thoughts and dreams, he never really considered himself one for chivalry or needless courage but the thought was there in the back of his mind, nagging at him, unrelenting. Everything would be solved if he could just muster up that quick bout of courage and turn a blind eye to his moral compass whose needle refused to budge. He could do it, become one of those murderers he always despised, ripping the life out of him, watch a lifeless body fall to the floor with a mundane thud. Was it the slight tremble in his arms or the tremor in his heart that stopped him from sinking eye deep into hell like the man in front of him? The devil’s snare of temptation whispered promises of an easy ending, an easy escape, hisses brushing past the shell of his ear. A shiver slipped and lodged itself between the nooks and crannies of his spine, fingers curling in upon themselves.
“You’re not a god.” The words are decisive and incisive.
His voice soon loses his edge. “You’re a despicable being with everything and nothing to lose. There are people like you scattered throughout all of history, people blinded by their own desires and in the end they destroy themselves and their world.”
He found it almost ironic how the self proclaimed god spoke of holding the power in his hands to destroy this Earth, the place of endless impossibilities. They were only threats tucked away in the recess of stars, their glaring light fading and reaching Earth when the original star was long gone. Wu Fan wouldn’t lie to himself, he had spent nights with the bumpy texture of rooftops digging into the back of custom tailored robes, pointing and chattering excitedly, his fascination caught and woven by the celestial beings that had always pinpointed human curiosity.
His love for the unknown burned, ashes, ashes falling down, scattering the earth with stardust.
Wu Fan’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching when the now quite possibly proven celestial being decided that walking like any other person was below him. It did him no good to feel a slight flicker of almost jealousy; wanting to save the power of being able to take to the air for himself. It didn’t seem right for someone with such a bitter heart would be able to feel the liberating freedom and the breath of fresh air that came with the sky.
He had wanted to avoid it, if he was honest, avoid revealing his original form, he would have been able to do the job with his limited control of fire while remaining his humanity but it was faulty and he could have guessed that it was a bit more fun this way, a dragon taking to the sky, black wings fanning out, a herald of death and flames. Wu Fan figured it was the best to get it done now under the oppressing thickness of the night, the comfort of the moon plucked from the sky. The puppet master didn’t strike him as an overly patient person either.
Wu Fan waited for the brunette haired boy’s presence to disappear, leaving him amongst the quiet rush of cars and the rustle of leaves in a deceptively gentle breeze. Mental concentration, a summoning of his own vessel of sorts, slipping into a form of smooth muscles and black scales. He was large enough to draw attention to himself if one decided to look and catch a glimpse of amber eyes that peered out from the darkness. Leathery wings spread, heavy paws falling on concrete before wind rushed downward, taking to the sky. It wasn’t a far distance to travel to his destination, not when he had the sky to himself but he dragged it out, letting the lazy wind carry him, guilt quickly mounting in his throat, his wings stuttering in the air momentarily and he let the night air dissolve that quick spurt of outward weakness.
His friend’s hopes and dreams rested in this building and he could have turned away then, left Yixing’s life in peace. Could have.
The scene was familiar, the stream of fire moved sluggishly through the air. His wings hit downwards and dragon fire hissed and snarled, rushing through the building. Again the flames hit, an animal with insatiable hunger as it pounced and leaped on the restaurant, its growls louder than the distant screams of panic.
Amber eyes looked away, illuminated by the fire, repulsion and fear keeping them locked on the scene below. Repeat, replay. Down in the flames they go.
[ I think I’m sick, God, I think I'm sick. ]
