Chapter 3

Why.

Since the day they met, not a single day has passed without this word lingering in Fynnel's mind.

There was a bond.

Undoubtedly, it was his bond. A sweet, intoxicating scent he had never smelled before. The direction that kept nagging at him, all his senses were drawn to a single person.

Yes, a human. It was a human.

Why did the heavens make his bond a different species, let alone a short-lived and weak human?

Fynnel has had his fair share of interactions with humans, but he has never had a deep relationship with any of them.

Their delicate limbs seemed as if they would break at the slightest touch, and they would fall ill from the cold or heat.

It was hard for a dragon person, who could withstand rain and scorching volcanoes for days without any effect, to believe in their existence.

At the very least, if it had been one of the beast people.

Or even an elf or a dwarf, whose lifespans were closer to his own.

—Why a human?

He had also heard that it was difficult to convey to them, who had no concept of a bond, how important such an existence was.

There were even cases where, upon meeting their bond, the other person was already bound to another human. In front of her, who shook her head in denial, he had to suppress his elation and be relieved that it didn't happen to him.

He wanted to exchange love from the moment they met and share everything with each other. But humans couldn't understand such feelings.

Fynnel desperately suppressed his burning passion, avoided touching Marrow to ensure her safety, and could only keep her in his sight and protect her from harm.

Marrow nodded.

Even though she didn't fully understand, she chose to come with him.

He had scolded his restless heart countless times.

Despite that, he was confronted with his lack of self-control just before the white stone steps of the temple where they were to take their vows.

Why.

Why did he, Fynnel, look away from Marrow at that moment? The foolish man who was excited about soon putting matching bracelets on her, laughing that it would be fun. He should have carried her and not let her go.

It was wrong to rush into a deeper relationship with a human who couldn't understand the concept of a bond. He had been right to try to match her pace, and he had indeed thought so during their short journey.

On that day, Marrow, dressed in a soft, flowing garment, was so radiant, and with marriage just around the corner, he had tried not to look at her to suppress his uncontrollable feelings. This is what happened.

How could such a foolish thing happen?

It's a lie, why. Why isn't she smiling, why won't she open her eyes?

Just a moment ago, her eyes were shining so brightly.

Right in front of the temple she had said she was looking forward to.

Why did she leave him so suddenly?

Are humans so fragile? So weak that they can end their lives by missing a step? My bond, lying lifeless, dripping with bright red blood.

If he had walked beside her, if he had just turned back, if he had understood her fragility better.

Why, why, why.

No one could speak to Fynnel, who mourned aloud without regard for others' eyes.

A bond, considered the only one in a lifetime.

The loss a beast person felt at losing it in front of their eyes.

Especially in such a sudden, absurd, and ridiculous end.

Holding Marrow's body, the priest somehow persuaded Fynnel to allow a tomb to be built and a burial to take place, and people pitied him. No one could comfort the dragon who refused to move, not eating or drinking, kneeling in front of the grave.

Even if he collapsed from exhaustion, the sturdy dragon person would recover after a few days in bed with food being force-fed to him. Everyone worried, pitied, and sympathized with the dragon person, who looked so terrible.

Fynnel, rumored to be on the verge of death, was held back by the priest's words, urging him to consider whether she would want him to die.

He closed his heart, became a hollow shell, and just performed his daily duties, kneeling in front of the grave every morning and evening.

Time passed slowly, and familiar faces came and went, but Fynnel spent each day calmly.

What he recalled were the sweet, sweet days of just one month.

The laughter that rolled like a bell, the chicken she enjoyed, the stories she told about her adoptive father. The time Fynnel spent with Marrow was far too short compared to the passing months.

Each time he recalled it over and over, he feared that the memories would change.

No matter how many times he looked back, he could no longer hear her voice or see her smile.

Why, such days.

"What a fool... She was so carefree, a bit absent-minded... Stairs, really... If just something had been different, she would be smiling here today."

Saying this, her adoptive father's voice trembled and became wet.

He collapsed at the grave, and his stubbornly sturdy body quickly recovered, only then remembering his adoptive father.

When he visited the inn late at night with her neatly wrapped clothes, the adoptive father, who had been waiting, tensed up, sensing that something had happened.

Kneeling and bowing his head to the floor, the man who announced Marrow's death, the adoptive father did not blame him but patted his shoulder, saying, "You must be suffering too."

"Fynnel, this is something you need."

Handing over her clothes as a keepsake, the adoptive father gently refused and returned them to Fynnel.

"I can only imagine the sorrow of losing a bond. It's better to have more things that can comfort your heart. If you ever want to talk about her, come visit anytime."

In that town, no one mourned Marrow's death; they only pitied Fynnel. There was no one to lend an ear.

Even the priest who spoke to him didn't know Marrow.

So Fynnel wept in warmth. Losing a child must be just as painful. Yet, he was saved by the adoptive father's words. The warmth that reminded him of Marrow squeezed his heart.

Even the adoptive father is no longer here.

No one who knew Marrow remains, and Fynnel is left behind.

Yet, when he thinks about how much time has passed, it's only been a hundred years. The future is much longer.

Would Marrow want Fynnel to die?

He no longer knows the answer to that question. How could he know how Marrow would answer, given the brief time they spent together?

He just thought she might be sad. The thought of her bright, smiling face clouding over made him unable to end his own life.

Still, why.

Why does the scent of a bond return? Why do all his senses focus on one person?

Fynnel couldn't believe it. Even in a crowd, her figure stood out so vividly, he couldn't believe it.

Why. He already had Marrow. Why does a new bond appear?

He once turned back to return to the temple.

But he couldn't resist the pull and stopped.

Seeing her chestnut hair fluttering in the distance, her contented face as she ate meat, her eyes shining as she walked through the town, he was irresistibly drawn to her. He couldn't bear the thought of Marrow fading away inside him.

Ah, why. Why is this so cruel.

Will he continue to be crushed by grief and his own emotions?

What should he do? How can he escape this abyss of despair?

With no answer, Fynnel could only clench his teeth and watch her.

Shaken by these overwhelming emotions, Fynnel was about to make a mistake again, this time on those same white stone steps.

But this time, he held back, before it was too late.

"Fynnel, it's okay. I'm not buried here anymore. Probably, I've returned to the earth and then circled back to be by your side now."

Saying this with a light laugh, Marlo comforted the man kneeling at Marrow's grave.

In the early morning, Fynnel, putting on his sleeves, was rubbing his sleepy eyes when she asked where he was going.

After hesitating, he told her it was Marrow's grave, and she eagerly got up, saying she wanted to go too.

The place behind the town, where the trees had been cleared and the tombstone was softly illuminated by the bright sunlight, was where they went.

Usually, he only felt deep sorrow here. Now, he looked down at the cold stone with an incredibly peaceful heart.

"Maybe the wind spirits took care of you. Fynnel, you must have cried a lot."

"...I didn't cry."

All lies.

In this place, which should have been quiet and lonely, bright laughter echoed.

Because he had overexerted her the day before, he picked up Marlo to ensure her body wouldn't suffer, and she sighed in his arms, calling him overprotective.

When they got home, Marlo yawned, and they decided to sleep a bit more. When she woke up at noon, they ate fruit, soup, and wheat dishes.

Marlo skillfully cooked the things they bought at the market and the game Fynnel had caught.

Competing with Marlo, who moved around the kitchen, Fynnel grilled meat and peeled fruit. He wanted his bond to eat to her heart's content from what he prepared, but Marlo, tilting her head, said she would do the same.

Despite the slight misunderstanding, it was still a happy feeling, and as he ate what she made, Marlo looked at him with a smile, and a deep sigh escaped him. Such times had come.

Hugging Marlo tightly and savoring her scent, they went back to bed and spent the evening together. The peaceful day passing by still seemed unbelievable, and Fynnel kept looking at Marlo, worried.

He couldn't count how many times he checked if her breathing had stopped while she slept.

It was so good that she was born into this world, came to visit him, and he managed to catch her hand on the stairs.

Fynnel watched Marlo, who was happily pouring tea, and felt a deep sense of relief. If she had fallen. If he hadn't made it in time. He would have lost her again. His important other half.

"Are you going to work from tomorrow? Will you eat lunch at the temple?"

They had a full ten days off to have their long-awaited ceremony and a short but sweet honeymoon. This was it.

And tomorrow, they had to return to work.

Marlo, who seemed thoroughly relaxed, said this while sipping tea and stroking the matching bracelets.

Gently fixing her slightly messy hair, Fynnel shook his head.

"No, I'll come back."

"Then I'll cook and wait for you. I'll help at the inn—"

"I'll accompany you, but I want you to stay home tomorrow."

"...That's why I said we should go today."

Marlo, who decided to live with Fynnel, felt it was too confining to stay at home and wanted to work. She had even heard that the town's inn needed more help.

Fynnel wanted to spend this honeymoon alone together. That was his true feeling. However, when Marlo asked, he couldn't refuse and walked around town a few times, but today, he wouldn't budge. Marlo didn't fully understand the feelings towards a bond.

Since he would inevitably interact with others besides himself, it was fine to monopolize her for these ten days.

When he pretended not to hear, he was nudged with a force that didn't hurt but made him worry.

"I'll talk to them tomorrow, so you can go the day after tomorrow."

"Can I go shopping at the market?"

"...Of course."

"Fynnel, look at me when you speak."

If he didn't like something, he couldn't help it.

Fynnel snorted, and Marlo laughed. Her laughter made his chest feel light, which was strange.

"I won't stay long. I'll come back right away after shopping."

"Ah."

"Then let's go to bed. We can't oversleep tomorrow."

Was this the end of today?

The chest that had felt light with regret suddenly felt heavy, and Fynnel frowned and fell silent.

Marlo tilted her head and looked up at him.

"Hey, aren't you going to sleep with me?"

"I am."

An immediate answer, and a laughing voice.

Marlo's small hand pulled Fynnel's to the bed, and they were enveloped in soft bedding together.

Close by, her grass-green eyes shone.

"Tomorrow will be fun too."

"...Yeah."

"Good night, Fynnel."

"Good night, Marlo."

Marrow, who gave Fynnel, whose life was filled with sorrow, a promise and hope.

Holding that in his heart, waiting to meet again might be quite enjoyable.

But that was still in the future.

He still had to tell her that the tea leaves she liked were harvested deep in the temple and sold only at the entrance.

For now, he would hold her warm, beating heart and look forward to tomorrow.