Little Pink Starfish

It had burrowed into the cracks in Ishar’s heart—until it fully took hold.

Because of it, Ishar’s body and spirit weakened, and Eoris reached out to consume him.

If the Veloan in that dream had not sought Ishar out for revenge, he would have been completely devoured by the magic tome or by Eoris itself.

In fact, he had been, once. Before meeting Veloan, Ishar had called himself the Saint of Eoris, adding fuel to the very war he had once sought to end quickly.

But at the very moment Veloan reappeared, Ishar clung to him—like a man waking from a trance.

In that dream, Veloan killed Ishar, who had become so consumed by the tome’s erosion that he could no longer even die by his own hand.

Of course, he hadn’t done it mercifully. Veloan had seen Ishar as the one he hated most, the one who deserved to die in the most miserable way. That’s why he had said:

“I’ll kill you. But not yet. Until I’m satisfied… crawl like a dog, and spread your legs like a whore. When I’m done, then I’ll grant you your death.”

Ishar had obeyed.

He crawled before Veloan like a dog. He offered up everything. He seduced him with parted legs, and even when Veloan tried to rape him, he accepted it, relaxing his body in submission.

All because of one desperate wish: to die not as a monster, but as a human being.

“Will you… kill me now?”

“If you remain by my side, you can live the human life you long for. Do you still want to die?”

“I already told you. I don’t want to live. And more than anything, no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be anything more than the tyrant who destroyed the Lucheist Empire. I don’t have the courage to watch the empire I loved fall.”

“You’ll never be free of the curse etched into your bloodline. What if I order you to witness the empire’s downfall?”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to obey. But by then… I won’t be who I am now. I hate you as much as I feel guilty toward you. I’ll go mad—completely mad. I won’t even know myself anymore.”

And that became Ishar’s final will.

Overwhelmed by a flood of rage and shame, the Veloan of that dream lost control—and killed him.

Ishar died in his arms, smiling peacefully, like someone who had been freed of all burdens. That was the last dream Veloan ever had of that life.

That was three years ago.

You could call it a nightmare. But it was far too vivid, too weighty to be dismissed as just that.

That’s why, for the past three years, Veloan had used those memories to act—slaying dragons, undermining Duke Superzen and the nobles who had once betrayed Ishar, removing threats, one by one.

The only small mercy: because Ishar had taken Veloan in as his disciple, Duke Superzen had learned of Veloan’s survival and immortality early on. As a result, the inhumane experiments hadn’t begun as soon as they had in the dream.

“That made things easier. Not that Ishar is completely safe. Duke Superzen still has to go. Only then will Ishar be able to tell me he loves me.”

Remembering how Ishar had refused to say those words, even when Veloan begged for them during the height of their passion, made his heart ache.

“…Mmh.”

At the soft sound of discomfort, Veloan realized he was gripping Ishar’s shoulder tightly in his sleep and immediately loosened his hand.

He hoped Ishar—surely exhausted from today—wouldn’t wake up. But that hope was dashed.

Eyelashes fluttered, and soon violet eyes, shimmering with pale light, opened.

Veloan exhaled softly. Mixed in with his guilt was a flood of joy—he hadn’t realized how much he’d already missed him in just these few moments apart.

“How selfish of me.” He gently stroked Ishar’s cheek.

“Veloan…?”

“Forgive me for waking you. Go back to sleep.”

“What time… is it…”

“Still a while until morning.”

At the sound of Ishar’s hoarse voice, Veloan reached out to stroke his throat gently. A faint smile touched Ishar’s lips—unconscious, involuntary.

Thankfully, he closed his eyes again and buried his face in Veloan’s chest.

Veloan wrapped his arms around him and patted his back softly, just as Ishar had done for him when they were younger. Before long, Ishar’s breathing settled again.

Ever since forming a contract with Eoris, Veloan had gained access to time that had vanished—time he now remembered. And with those memories, he had grown. But a question lingered.

“Were those events real? Or were they a kind of prophecy—a vision of what would happen if Ishar never chose me?”

There was no way to confirm it. But that dream aligned with too much of reality to ignore.

“Still… I hope it was just a possibility.”

The Ishar in that world had been so full of pain, so desperately alone.

And what of himself, in that dream? He hadn’t comforted Ishar. He had pushed him deeper into suffering.

Before he had truly learned what love was from Ishar, Veloan had found joy in knowing he alone could shake this noble, flawless man. That he alone could wound him. That he alone could be loved by him.

That special privilege—being the only one Ishar made room for—was intoxicating.

He had loved that affection so much, he once even considered abducting Ishar and locking him away once he was strong enough.

Just like the dream Veloan had done to Yujin.

But through love—through sharing genuine emotion—Veloan came to understand something vital:

“Ishar is deeply lonely. If I were to confine him, he would grieve. He’d stop smiling. He may love me above all else, but he still needs others.”

Especially the two closest to him—without them, he’d suffer even more.

In that dream, after Ishar killed Rekayan with his own hands—driven mad by the magic tome—he spent four days locked in a room, unmoving.

And when Shuzel was killed by Veloan while trying to escape with Ishar, he lived like a broken puppet for nearly a month.

The rest—those who tried to save Ishar—were slowly slaughtered by Duke Superzen’s now-Veloan-aligned faction.

Each death took more of Ishar’s words, more of his heart. Until all that remained was his longing for death.

That’s why Veloan gave up on having Ishar all to himself.

Instead, he worked to ensure Ishar could always choose him first, no matter what. And over the last three years, in between dragon hunts, he’d quietly prepared gifts.

“I hope he’ll like them.”

He brushed a soft kiss to Ishar’s lips before rising from bed.

He didn’t want to leave, not even for a second, but he needed to check on the gifts—especially after seeing the anxiety in Ishar’s eyes earlier.

Making sure to move silently so as not to wake him, Veloan dressed quickly.

He didn’t tie his now waist-length hair. Just in case Ishar was awake when he returned, he wanted an excuse to ask him to do it.

After straightening his clothes and placing a final kiss on the sleeping Ishar’s lips, Veloan cast ten layers of protective and barrier magic before quietly leaving the room.

The door hadn’t even fully closed behind him when shadows slipped in, blending with the darkness—and in the hallway, a pair of eyes met his.

A silent gaze like a statue. Veloan turned slightly and spoke softly.

“Sir Shuzel. You’re here.”

“…Is His Majesty asleep?”

“Yes. Don’t wake him. I may be the reason he’s very worn out tonight.”

“…Understood.”

Shuzel’s eyes flickered slightly—he had clearly deduced what had taken place. But beyond that brief reaction, he said nothing.

There was no anger or murderous intent in his pale-yellow eyes now. Unlike before, his gaze held a faint trace of… favor.

Veloan noted the change but didn’t show it outwardly.

“Will you stay at His Majesty’s side while I’m gone?”

“The shadows alone aren’t enough. I’ll stay. If he wakes and looks for you, I’ll tell him you went for a short walk.”

“Thank you.”

Shuzel gave him a quiet nod, then took up a silent position before the bedroom door. Veloan turned and slipped into the shadows of the hallway.

Shuzel’s shift in attitude had begun when Veloan rescued Ishar from Zischka and sent word to the capital.

Back then, Veloan had deliberately contacted Shuzel first.

It would have been easier to reach out to Rekayan or Elam, but he chose Shuzel—out of jealousy. Ishar had emotionally relied on him more than anyone else.

“Thank you. Please do as you said.”

When Veloan explained Ishar’s condition and said he would remain in Antere for a week to stabilize him, Shuzel had said something unexpected:

“It’s truly a relief that you’re alive, Lord Veloan.”

At first, Veloan had thought Shuzel had gone mad. Not even once—in the dream or before Veloan fell into ruin—had Shuzel ever spoken to him with kindness.