Chapter 2

Nameless

A long time passed by.

Maybe it was a week or a month, or maybe even longer than that.

Time blurred into a hazy flow for Eliron, but the unchanging underground cavern only reminded him that he was trapped in a monotonous, waking nightmare.

Then one day, something was different.

The workers, who'd once been adults, were now children.

They staggered about in worn rags, swinging pickaxes that were nearly as tall as they were. Their faces were blank, deadened, like broken toys forced to keep moving.

"Child, stop that. I can hide you and—"

"No. I already did that. Why are you—"

"Wait at least rest—"

Eliron couldn't help but pause in his words.

Like before, the children would only look up to him with deadeyes but continued with their work as if a bug startled them.

He tried every single time he woke up from sleep, even when children he's never seen before appeared and the ones he was familiar with had disappeared.

Sometimes he couldn't sleep trying to find something to lessen the children's workload. However it was for naught.

When he helps them somehow the child works extra faster. It couldn't be helped that he should only watch. It was best since the children keeps a steady pace.

Approximately 10 bells after, drifting in and out of sleep, the Demon King's followers came back.

Eliron gritted his teeth, a dark realization settling in.

"So it was eternal youth you wanted all along, Pearce?" His voice echoed off the cavern walls.

"You won't understand even if I explain." Pearce chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound. "Dragons live for centuries, watching humans come and go. Now, I have that same gift—an unchanging body, undisturbed by time."

Eliron's lip curled in disdain. "Our long lives weren't built on the blood and suffering of children, Pearce."

Pearce's smile faltered, and with a flick of his wrist, he hurled a stone at Eliron's face. "I don't need lectures from a beast who sits and watches."

His group joined in soon enough.

From throwing rocks to throwing punches and kicks.

In no time about 20 men started pouncing on Eliron's face in unison.

He did not even fight back.

Although he can simply sigh and these men will be pushed away, he did not move.

His days were a monotonous loop.

There was nothing wrong with change.

Maybe the physical pain will make the emotional pain go away.

Pain was good.

Once the group finished venting their anger, they left. Eliron tilted his head and smiled. There was a stinging pain by his mouth. It felt good.

Was it… actually good?

He fell asleep again.

This time he woke up startled.

"Hush now~ The sun will rise again, my dear~"

A small hand stroked his rough cheek, and he flinched instinctively. He opened his yellow, slitted eyes, finding himself face-to-face with a child. She had curious, deadened pink eyes, yet her expression held a strange warmth.

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"…Are you okay, Mister Dragon?" she asked softly.

For a moment, Eliron simply stared. This child was different—she moved and spoke with a natural ease.

"Are you… real?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

The girl tilted her head and poked her own cheek. "I think I am."

"Have you recovered from the brainwashing?"

"Are you okay?"

"Are you exhausted? You should rest."

Eliron bombarded the child with questions but as if she was set on focusing to whatever she was doing, she never answered him.

"Just what are you doing?" He sighed. He wanted to ask serious questions but the child kept moving around.

She crouched down and clung to his snout, climbing up to reach an unapplied herb to his injury. Her eyes were too focused that her untied purple hair tickled Eliron's nose.

"Hmph…! Your hair… move it."

"Yes?" She finally replied, her pink eyes staring unfazed at his large slit eyes.

"It tickles."

"Oh."

The child scooped her hair up on her palm and raised its end to the sky before closing her eyes. Her actions made Eliron nervous, it was familiar though he couldn't pinpoint why.

"What're you—"

"I offer the excess hair to the goddess of the land…"

With a whispered prayer, her hair shimmered, turning golden from the tips all the way to her neck.

Then, in a soft burst, it crumbled to shimmering ash, scattering into the air like glimmering dust and drifting up toward the cavern ceiling, vanishing into the darkness above.

"You—"

"Shhh~" The girl placed a finger over her lips and smiled sweetly. "This is our secret okay, Mister dragon?"

He could only gape.

In this desolate cavern, where demon magic ran rampant, this golden light was something he'd only heard of.

This child was… a Saintess.

The savior he thought lost to the mortal lands had appeared at last.

Ever since that day, Eliron did not sleep.

"What are you working for?"

When Eliron asked, the girl stopped in her tracks. Like before, the children passes through his tunnel to an even smaller tunnel. He could hear the wind draft going downwards so it must be a hidden area.

She was carrying a basket of food towards the hole. "It's a secret place for my friend. Hiding is a must at this time. Would you like to meet her?"

His brows furrowed, "Can I meet her?"

The girl chuckled while nodding but then she paused, "Oh not right now. You'll meet her next time when the bell rings."

She disappeared into the tunnel.

Sometimes, he would see her later, returning with a basket of ores from other tunnels, humming to herself as if the work didn't tire her.

The Saintess had become his companion, bringing a spark of hope back to his imprisoned heart.

Whenever she rested near him, she shared bits of her day, her voice lively and bright, as though some spark within her remained untouched by the hollowed look in her eyes.

"Today," she began, settling down against his scales, "I learned how to get rid of the dirt from my fingers after mining."

Eliron's massive yellow eye blinked down at her with curiosity. "How do you manage that?"

She held up her small hands, caked in grime but proud nonetheless. "You scrape it off with another rock! You have to be gentle so it doesn't hurt. Look," she said, demonstrating by rubbing her fingers with a jagged stone she'd carried with her. "And then, if you find a bit of moss, you can wipe it even cleaner."

Eliron watched, both amused and saddened, as she scrubbed her fingers with patient focus, her pink eyes watching the dirt flake away like she'd discovered something marvelous.

To him, it was a small, heartbreaking revelation, but she spoke of it like it was a wondrous new skill.

"See?" she said, looking up at him with a hint of pride. "It's almost like magic."

Eliron huffed softly, the warm air from his breath ruffling her hair. "Yes," he said, "like magic."

For a moment, they both watched in silence as the dirt crumbled away from her small fingers, scattering like dust on the cavern floor.

Eliron's gaze lingered on her, curiosity stirring as he took in her quiet resilience, her peculiar spark.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice softer. "Do you have a name?" he asked, hoping to learn more about this strange, resilient child who so often kept him company.

"A name?" She tilted her head, thinking. "It's something everyone has, isn't it? My father calls me Nameless."

"Nameless?" Eliron's heart ached at the title. "Were you born to slave—ah, to worker parents?"

The girl looked thoughtful. "My mother sits beside my father, and he sits all day, too."

Eliron huffed in dissatisfaction. "So they rest while you work tirelessly?"

The girl just smiled. "My mother cleans my father's clothes sometimes."

"And what about your father?" Eliron pressed. "What does he do?"

Her pink eyes twinkled, and she leaned close, almost like she was sharing a secret. "My father… rules the land."

Eliron's heart went cold.

He knew the child was strange instinctively.

But he didn't think there was an even bigger surprise.

This child wasn't merely a Saintess.

She was the daughter of the Demon King.