Even Dragons Cry Too
Over the next few days, Vergil kept a close eye on Seris.
The more he observed, the more baffling she became.
Everything about her habits felt out of place, from the way she stared at household tools as if they were relics of an unknown civilization, to the way she reacted to basic conveniences that even children in the village understood.
It was obvious her grasp of anything modern was limited.
Not in the way of someone sheltered or aristocratic, but in the way of someone who had skipped entire centuries of development.
At times, Vergil wondered if she had crawled straight out of a cave and into his cabin.
“Vergil, let me go out.”
“Not yet.”
Among everything he had learned about her in the past days, the most troublesome was the simple fact that she did not tolerate confinement.
Even when injured, she always tried to leave the cabin for one reason or another.
It was as if staying indoors for more than a few hours offended her very existence.
“Wait for a few days.”
“Tsk.”
A few days later, Vergil sat outside on the rocking chair with a book in hand.
He flipped another page until he noticed someone approaching from a distance.
“Sir Vergil!”
“Finally.”
One of the merchants he kept in contact with, Albert, trudged up the path with a bundled item tucked under his arm.
Of all the people in the Empire, merchants were the ones he could actually rely on.
They knew how to keep secrets, how to look the other way, and how to deliver items a man in exile wasn’t supposed to have.
“Did you bring it?”
“Yes. And it took some convincing. The witch shop demanded to know why the item had to be slanted. They claimed it ruined their craftsmanship. I told them it was for balance. I may have argued for half an hour.”
Albert handed Vergil a large witch hat with a brim tilted slightly to the side.
Vergil tested its weight.
“So this is the one.”
“A permanent enchantment. Wind-proof, slip-proof, cling enchantment included. The witch warned you not to test the fire resistance. She said, and I quote, ‘He looks stupid enough to try.’”
Vergil put the hat on.
“How does it work?”
Albert offered a small parchment folded in thirds.
“Here. The witch insisted.”
Vergil unfolded it.
————
ACTIVATION
<ol><li>
1. Place on head.
</li><li>
2. Tap the brim twice.
</li><li>
3. Speak: 'Bind.'
</li></ol>
4. The hat will remain attached until you release it.
RELEASE
<ol><li>
1. Tap the brim three times.
</li><li>
2. Speak: 'Release.'
</li></ol>
3. Do not forcefully remove the hat before release.
WARNINGS
Do not sleep with the hat activated unless you enjoy neck pain.
Hat is wind-resistant, rain-resistant, and moderately spell-resistant.
Wash at least once a week. The smell goes really bad.
NOTES
Hat adjusts itself for comfort.
Slanted brim was the customer’s request. The shop apologizes for the “aesthetic offense.”
————
Vergil closed the manual.
“…She really complained about the slant.”
“Quite passionately.”
“Does it look stupid?”
“Do you want honesty?”
“No.”
“Then it looks fine.”
Vergil clicked his tongue but kept the hat on.
Albert turned his attention, taking in the sight of the cabin.
“But wow, Sir Vergil, you’re really settling into the whole rural countryman vibe. One look at you, and no one would guess you were a war hero.”
“Then it’s working.”
“Amazing. Truly amazing. The Empire’s former star reduced to a man who chops wood and wears witch hats.”
“That reminds me, how is the mercenary guild these days?”
Albert slung the heavy bag on his shoulder, preparing to leave.
“Oh, right, that. The guild’s been noisy lately. Lots of idiots still trying to make a name for themselves. Same old, same old.”
“That so? I’m thinking of paying a visit soon.”
“......”
Albert froze as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his head.
“Ehh? You? Visiting the guild? Just like that?”
“Is there a problem?”
“Just know I won't take bribes anymore, Sir Vergil. If you get caught again…”
Vergil wrapped an arm around his shoulder like they were old drinking buddies.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Albert. Haven’t we known each other for a while?”
“Yes, that’s exactly why I’m worried. Every time you say that, I end up losing sleep for three days straight.”
“I won’t cause trouble this time. I promise. So, can you help me enter the Empire again? Let’s say… a month from now?”
Albert stared at him as if he had just been asked to smuggle a dragon egg through customs.
And that wasn’t exactly inaccurate.
For Vergil to slip in and out of the Empire whenever he pleased, he always relied on Albert.
The guards were manageable since Vergil had built a solid rapport with many of them, but immigration officers were a different matter entirely.
The last time Vergil got caught, the officer who covered for him had been fired on the spot.
Since then, most of the newer officers weren’t people Vergil knew.
Which meant getting past them required… creative measures.
Measures Albert usually ended up handling.
Vergil placed a firm hand on Albert’s shoulder.
“Relax. You know as well as I do that half the guards on rotation owe me a favor. I just need your help making sure the right ones are on duty.”
“...You’re going to get me killed someday.”
* * *
“Try this on.”
“......”
Seris eyed the witch hat in his hands as if it were a suspicious artifact that might explode at any moment.
Vergil held it out patiently, waiting for her to take it.
But she didn’t move.
Vergil sighed.
“It’s a hat. Just put it on.”
“A strange request. Is this some human ritual? Or perhaps… one of your peculiar mating customs?”
Vergil choked.
“M-Mating customs…? It’s to hide your damn horn.”
“...Ah.”
Vergil continued before she could get even more ideas.
“It’s made at a witch shop with enchantments so it won’t fall off, even if you move around or use magic. The brim is angled to cover your horn nicely. If someone sees it, they’ll just think it’s a fashion choice.”
Seris picked up the hat, turning it in her hands with blatant suspicion.
“You really have peculiar tastes… Vergil.”
“Just put it on.”
Seris put it on without complaint.
The slanted brim settled over the right side of her head, completely hiding the base of her single horn.
She touched the brim lightly and looked at her reflection in the mirror.
Vergil nodded.
“It suits you.”
Seris tilted her head left, then right, examining herself from every possible angle.
The slanted brim hid her horn perfectly, and the enchantment kept the hat steady no matter how she moved.
“I quite like this. It makes me look dignified.”
“And more importantly, thanks to that hat, you can go outside now.”
Seris’s eyes sparkled instantly.
“So I can finally leave—”
“But you’re not stepping outside without me.”
“......”
Her face fell so fast it was almost comical.
“Must you ruin every moment I enjoy?”
* * *
“I’ve been meaning to ask, but does anyone know how your human form looks?”
“No. Our humanoid forms are sacred. No one but my mother has ever seen mine.”
“Good.”
With the witch hat tilted over her horn, Seris no longer looked like a dragon at all.
In fact, at a glance, she resembled a wandering witch, though she had absolutely no idea what a witch was.
Witches were as old as recorded history, yet somehow this woman, a royal dragon no less, looked at the hat as if it were some exotic artifact.
Just how sheltered had she been?
“Vergil, I must see the domain you control.”
“Domain? Ah, you mean the village.”
Seris nodded as if this was perfectly reasonable.
Anyone watching them would have seen two odd figures walking side by side, a strange woman in a slanted witch hat and a man who looked far too calm about escorting her.
From an outside perspective, problems would surely arise.
Yet from everything Vergil had observed, Seris was far more cautious than expected.
For someone who spoke like a ruler, she hid behind furniture whenever someone knocked on the cabin door.
Her wariness around humans was undeniable. And for good reasons.
“Welcome to the village.”
“......”
Seris stared at the scene before her. Snow-dusted rooftops, pathways carved through frost, and clusters of humans going about their day. Children chased each other past fences. Merchants argued over prices. A blacksmith hammered away at glowing metal.
For a land once ruled by Ice Dragons, the sight of a human settlement thriving here was nothing short of baffling.
“What’s wrong?”
But Seris didn’t answer and simply continued walking. Vergil followed at a pace behind.
Her eyes turned from house to house, tracing the smoke rising from chimneys and the footprints stamped across the snow.
“Vergil!”
One of the village children ran up to them with his cheeks red from the cold.
Seris flinched at the sudden approach, but she didn’t move away. She only looked down at the child.
The child blinked up at her.
“Who’s that?”
Vergil placed a hand lightly on the child’s head.
“A friend.”
“A friend? Ah, like me!”
“Yes, like you. Why are you outside, Ryan?”
Ryan puffed his cheeks, looking equally proud and guilty.
“Ma said I could play until the sun moves past that tree. But it hasn’t moved yet, so I’m still allowed.”
Vergil sighed before a smile curved his lips.
“You’re stretching the rules again.”
Ryan grinned and rocked on his heels.
Seris watched the exchange in silence, her gaze alternating between the two.
The word friend remained in her mind, as if she were trying to understand what meaning humans attached to it.
Ryan’s attention turned to her hat.
“Miss, your hat is funny.”
Vergil cleared his throat.
“It’s meant to be like that.”
“Oh. Then it’s pretty! I’ll go play now!”
Ryan ran off without another thought, leaving the two alone again.
Seris kept her eyes on the path he disappeared down.
There was something different in her expression, perhaps a hint of nostalgia on her usually aloof face.
“Around this time, the Ice Dragons are usually still asleep.”
“Is that so?”
“Except for me.”
Seris had always been the type who refused to follow the customs her kind lived by.
While the others slept through the long northern mornings, she would already be wandering about, restless and wide awake.
She could almost see her small dragon self trudging through frost-covered plains, circling the Ice Dragon domain as if she were the only dragon in the world.
Vergil watched her for a moment.
“This place is familiar to you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
They walked on in silence.
Villagers who owed Vergil small favors greeted him as they passed, offering thanks and brief conversations, yet Seris said nothing.
When asked who she was, Vergil simply answered that she was an acquaintance.
Seris kept her gaze forward, absorbing every detail of the land she once knew.
The familiarity was there, but it all felt like a dream remembered only in memories.
Whatever remained of her childhood had long been replaced by human settlements and new life that had nothing to do with the Ice Dragons.
Eventually, they reached a cliff overlooking a wide river.
The northern sun poured over the landscape, catching the light in Seris’s eyes.
She stared out across the expanse, her hands slowly curling into fists.
“Perhaps everything I once considered as home… truly isn’t here anymore.”
Vergil said nothing, giving her the space to wallow in her sorrow.
“...It’s frustrating.”
