Beyond God's

My name is Dragotour, and I am the oldest son of King Dreamcast. I know that you might think I would be happy to be born into such a fulfilling lifestyle, but in reality, it's miserable. Dreamcast appears to be this loving father who loves me and cares for me, but in private, he stabs me in the back with literal spears. Allow me to repeat myself: literal spears, aimed at his own son. All morning and all night, it's just endless pain, but I endure it to protect my little brother, Maximus. I know—I know it sounds cheesy and like every anime, movie, or book you've heard, but it's not in the way you think. You see, we are immortal, so no matter how much pain we feel, we can never fully die. We always come back, and we always feel more pain. But my brother doesn't have to know that. He doesn't need to know anything that I've been through. He doesn't need to see the scars that never fully heal, or feel the weight of our father's wrath crushing down on him like it does on me every single day. 

Allow me to start over. I should probably start where my story truly began. It was a late night when I was born. My egg cracked open, and I climbed out, my small form feeling like an atom in my mother's arms. But for a short second, I saw an actual loving father when I looked at him. His eyes held warmth, genuine care, and something I can only describe as hope. As the days went on and he cared for me, he never once showed anger, never once showed violence. Those early days felt like a paradise I didn't know I'd lose so soon. I remember the way he would hold me gently, his massive claws somehow delicate when they touched my scales. He would sing to me in the old dragon tongue, songs about heroes and kings, about fathers and sons who ruled together in harmony. I believed every word. 

After that day, I spent more time with my mother since Dreamcast was out on a run to go talk to the Almighty Realm Master, the God of all nine Realms. I listened to my mother as she spoke, her voice gentle and soft, like wind chimes in a summer breeze. She would take me to the highest peaks of our mountain home, showing me the vast expanse of the realms below. She taught me the names of stars, the patterns of clouds that signal coming storms, and the way magic flows through the earth like rivers of light. 

"Dearest Dragotour, my little angel, your horns so soft, so sharp. I see you in the future ruling with your brother. I see you with your gorgeous queens. I see the king around with you on his throne. No matter what happens to you, I'll always be with you. No matter what they say, no matter what you do, as long as you protect the ones you love, that's all I need you to do." I still remember her soft voice. Although it was only for a short while, it's the last thing I have of her besides a necklace—a simple silver chain with a small crystal that glows faint pink in the moonlight. It's the only thing I have of her that truly reminds me of her warmth, her kindness, her love. Sometimes I hold it in my claws at night and pretend I can still feel her presence, still hear her humming those ancient lullabies that once made me feel safe. 

Anyway, a few 6,000 years later, my brother was born, but my father looked disappointed this time. Even though Maximus looked exactly like Mother and him, he looked disappointed—glad, even. I don't know how to explain it, but it was unsettling, like he wanted this outcome but hated that it came. I remember standing in the doorway, watching my father's face as he held Maximus for the first time. There was no joy there, no pride. Just cold calculation, like he was measuring my brother's worth and finding him lacking. 

After that, I saw him lead my mother into a different room. I then heard some arguing from the other room. My father spoke, his voice deep and melodic, but laced with venom.

"You little bitch! You dare have this child second? Now that idiot of an indigo dragon will take the throne first. That completely ruins my plan and deal with Almighty Realm Master. You couldn't just have one child! We could have been a realm superpower. He has your magical abilities, your wings, my attack stance, and eternal weaponry. Yet you dare to defy me and give birth to another child. Let me be clear: that child may have your magic, but it does not have my weaponry." 

I just heard my mother cry and cry as she spoke through sobs. "Please, honey, I've given you everything I could—my castle, my mother, my father's life. You killed my sister on our wedding day. What more do you want? I gave you the sunshine you want, and I will raise them with respect and—" 

I didn't hear the rest. I don't know why I peeked around the corner. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was fear. Maybe some part of me knew that everything was about to change forever. But my blood ran cold when I did. I saw my father stab his sharp, sword-like claws into my mother's chest before he started to speak, his voice deep and superior. 

"Oh yes, my dear, but you see, that's the funny thing about prizes. Once you win them, they have to do exactly what you say. And if it's not to your exact satisfaction, then it burns forever. And eventually, when it's outlived its usefulness, well, it comes to an end. Don't worry, I'll treat our newest son with kindness and respect since he looks more like me after all. But Dragotour will no longer be a son in my eyes, for he resembles you. And if I have to stare at your face for another moment, I will absolutely destroy all nine realms. But of course, people come in usefulness. I have seen the prophecies and see an almighty demonic king on top of a throne with me on his side." 

He then kissed my mother on the cheek before he pulled out his claws and watched her die, her eyes dimming like stars fading at dawn. "Good night, sweetie. And maybe next time the medicine will finally take effect." 

I couldn't even speak. My throat closed up, my lungs refused to work, and my legs felt like stone. I wanted to scream, to cry out, to do anything. But I was frozen, watching as the light left my mother's eyes, watching as the only source of love and kindness in my life slipped away. Her hand reached out toward me one last time, and I saw her mouth form my name, but no sound came out. Just silence. Eternal, crushing silence. 

The moment seemed to stretch on forever. I could see every detail with painful clarity—the way her scales lost their shimmer, how her wings folded in on themselves one final time, the crystal necklace around her neck catching the fading light. I wanted to run to her, to hold her, to tell her I was sorry for not doing anything. But my body wouldn't move. It was as if some invisible force 

had rooted me to the spot, forcing me to witness every agonizing second of her death. When she finally went still, when that last breath left her body, something inside me broke. Not loudly, not dramatically, but quietly—like a crack forming in ice that you don't notice until it's too late. I felt it spread through my chest, through my very soul, and I knew in that moment that I would never be the same. The world had just become a darker, colder place, and I was left standing in its shadow. 

I instantly ran and hid my brother in my room before closing the boulder behind us. Yes, I said boulder, because in this time, doors haven't been technically invented yet. Don't worry—that's in the next few years.

So I just stood silent, stood there, my brother looking small in my arms. He was crying softly, as if he knew something terrible had just happened even though he couldn't possibly understand it. His tiny claws gripped onto my scales, seeking comfort that I barely had the strength to give. I may have my mother's appearance, but I have my father's weaponry—surprising, to say the least. Looking at Maximus's tiny form, his scales shimmering with mother's magic, I made a promise to myself right then and there: he would never know this pain. He would never feel what I felt. I would take every blow, every punishment, every ounce of suffering if it meant keeping him safe. This wasn't just a promise—it was an oath, sealed in the moment of our mother's death, binding me to a path I knew would lead to nothing but pain. 

After that, I heard sounds outside. They sounded like other dragons. They were asking my father what happened to Mother. He lied straight through his teeth and told them that she had decided to move on from this world. The dragon looked like he wanted to argue, but seeing Dreamcast's immense power and knowing that he's a king in Realm Master's eyes, he decided not to push any further. I could hear the doubt in the dragon's voice, could sense that he knew something was wrong. But fear is a powerful silencer, and my father wielded it like a weapon. Right there, he left. I knew that no one was ever going to help us. No one was brave enough to. So right there, I took my brother to a special room. I locked the door so father couldn't come in. Then I turned to my brother's small form, gently placed him on the stone, looked up at the stars, got to my knees, and began to pray. 

"Oh, dearest Realm Master, please make sure that my brother stays safe from my father's clutches. I would give my life for him. He's the only thing I have left of my mother, so please, Master, I beg of you. I know Dreamcast, my father, is worthy in your eyes, but I do not wish for my brother to feel any harm. And if that sacrifice leads me to live a misery of hell, then so be it. Take my happiness, take my peace, take everything from me if you must. Just let him be free." I heard some banging on the boulder. The sound echoed through the chamber like thunder, each impact making my heart race faster. I quickly hid my brother behind another boulder. After that, I went to go answer the door, trying to sound as nonchalant as I possibly could as I spoke, my voice deadly calm. 

"Yes, Father? Do you need any—" 

I suddenly felt him slap my face hard, his hand turning into a hard boulder that clanged across my face. The impact sent me flying into the cave wall, my small body leaving an imprint on the rocky walls. Stars exploded across my vision, and I tasted blood in my mouth. My father looked at me with a look I'd never seen—pure, unfiltered rage that seemed to burn hotter than any fire I could conjure. 

He then stepped down on my body with his massive foot, his foot suddenly turning into a sharp blade—one of the many genetic attributes from his father's side of the family. The blade pierced through my scales, pinning me to the ground like an insect in a collection. He looked down at me as he spoke, his voice calm, enthusiastic even, which somehow made it worse. "You ever—and I mean ever—speak of this again, then I'll strip you of your soul, send you to the deepest, darkest pits of Realm Master's cell. And no one will listen to your screams except for when you scream, begging, praying for death that will never fall upon you. A burden of your words. Am I understood, son?"

I just simply nodded as I wiped the blood off my back, feeling the warm liquid seep between my claws. I know some of you might be wondering how come I didn't die right then and there. Well, it's because we are both blessed and cursed with immortality.