Sweat rolls from his temples as Yijun carries the dragon over his back. His back is bent from the dragon's weight and wet from the blood running down but he cannot not stop now; they are still not far enough from the beasts drawn to the battlefield. Already, he hears the roars and shrieks at the battle site behind them and prays to all the gods that the dead snake can distract the scavenging animals, as he has no idea how they could survive with only his puny human strength.

 He reaches the end of the battlefield and sees the treeline. His heart rejoices; he hopes they could be hidden by the foliage. He plunges deep into the dark green embrace of the forest until he figures there is enough distance from the battlesite. He drags the dragon to an area sheltered from the wind by a natural barrier of rocks and thick undergrowth and lays him down gently. 

By the light of the moon, Yijun nurses the dragon. He cut strips of his robes to bandage his wounds. But as soon as he finishes, blood seeps through the cloth like roses in bloom. Yijun sits back on his heels, puzzled; he does not know any healing magic, just this, and he hopes the dragon has magic that can help him heal himself.

There’s nothing else he can do so he builds a fire. Animals are afraid of fire and they are in the wilderness so there is nothing to fear in showing their location. He crouches and carefully arranges a circle of stones to contain his fire. As he gathers tinder, a collection of dried leaves, twigs, and bits of bark, the forest grew somber with the singing of insects and the occasional soft hoots of owls. He arranged everything in a loose, airy pile in the center of the stone circle. Around it, he placed a teepee of small sticks, ensuring there was enough space for air to circulate and feed the flames. The air is cool and still, filled with the earthy scents of leaves and damp soil. When he strikes the rocks together and produced sparks which falls onto the pile. Wisps of smoke began to rise from the pile, accompanied by the faint, distinct smell of burning wood. He worked over the fire until it grew bigger and brighter.

 With the fire going cheerily on, he looks at the dragon. While the blood seems to have clotted, he looks paler. The black veins are creeping in from his chest up to his chin now. Yijun shuffles closer to him and puts his hand over his forehead. His skin feels cold to the touch which makes Yijun frown down at him. He is not sure the dragon can live through the night. He takes his overcoat off and puts it atop the dragon to cover him. Strings of his hair lay on his face and Yijun parts it so the dragon’s face is visible. Perhaps he will die, but Yijun did his best, offering him at least comfort in his last hours.

Yijun jolts awake to the sound of birds greeting the pink hand of dawn peeking through the tree canopy. His back and shoulder is sore from sleeping seated up. He carefully stretches them into pliancy. In the cold, crisp air, he rubs his hands together to warm them. He looks to his side where he sees his fire struggling to climb over the wood. He puts more kindling on the coals and blows a little to help revive the flames.

 Squirrels darted across his view, their bushy tails flicking as they scampered up tree trunks. He looks to his patient who is lying the same way as before. He shuffles closer and put his hand on his pale and clammy looking skin.

 The dragon feels even colder than last night, despite his efforts to keep the fire going. His previously pink lips is purple now. He watches for a while and he thinks he cannot see him breathe. He puts his finger under the dragon’s nose; air weakly blows out and in. He raises his limbs; it flops back limply. So he’s not dead yet. 

But he might be dead soon.

He debates in his mind what to do. If he dies, should he bury him in the forest? He never heard of dragon funerals but it feels wrong somehow to leave his body for the animals.

His throat tickles so he clears it. The sound goes like a cannon in the silent forest. He runs his tongue over his cracked lips. It’s been a while since he drank water. When he thinks of water, he remembers how the dragon loved to nap on anything with water. 

He turns his head to the sleeping dragon. He does not want to leave the dragon to fetch water but the dragon might not mind being taken to one.

He climbs up a tree near them and looks around. South of them, he sees something glimmering down the valley that might be a lake. He goes back down and walked to the fire. He extinguishes it and moved on to dragons’s body. He put his hands together and bows in front of him, asking his forgiveness.

Yijun picks up his coat, put it on himself then he hoists the dragon up over his back. As usual the dragon does not make a sound, and with his cold, heavy body on his back, Yijun slowly makes his way south.

 The trail begins to slope gently downward, and the sound of the river grows louder, more distinct. He quickens his pace, anticipation lending strength to his steps. He forgets how much time passed but he sees the trees began to thin. A few steps past them,  he catches glimpses of the shimmering blue water through the gaps in the foliage. The underbrush gives way to a rocky shore, and at last, he emerges from the forest, standing at the edge of the lake.

Yijun carefully sets down his passenger on the soft grass. Water laps at the dragon's side, like a dog welcoming its master. Curious, Yijun walks to the top of the dragon’s head, puts his hands under the armpits and drags the dragon over into deep water.

 He expects him to sink but surprisingly, the dragon floats over the water. Yijun is concerned the dragon might not like being wet and cold, but he remembers he likes to nap in the water and the fire last night seem not to do any good to him.

 As he watches the body floating by, guilt twists in his stomach. What if the cold water really kills him? He would have committed a great sin and damned his future reincarnations.

But then he sees the dragon’s pained expression go away and he looks more at peace. With his hair fanning behind him and his robes dancing in the water among the lotus flowers, he looks like a beautiful drowned corpse of a tragic youth who threw himself into the water due to his lover’s betrayal. His beautiful but peaceful face seems to tell that finally, he has tasted the end of a cruel life. The sight can make anyone sigh, and Yijun's vision go watery while watching him. He catches that thought and immediately wipes away the liquid gathering in his eyes, laughing at himself for his dramatic fantasies.

 A dragon with a lover? How absurd, he thinks as he shakes his head to free it of those ridiculous fantasies. The recent revelations and his misadventures must have addled his brain.

Yet concern still nags at his mind so Yijun looks over. The dragon seem to look a little better. His purple lips are turning pink and his skin is losing its grey pallor. The black lines over his chest and neck is retreating until the ends never reach his chin anymore. Yijun watches him longer and he sees the web grow fainter until only wisps of it appears above his collar. His breath too seem to grow more vigorous. A thought appears in his mind; perhaps for the dragon’s healing to work, water is necessary. Scenes of the dragon napping on water flickers through his mind.

A sparkle of intuition pops into his head. It seems the dragon was napping on water  previously because water relieves his illness! 

He smacks his forehead. Of course water is better for him; dragons are water creatures after all. He is such a fool to think his fire last night is better at helping a dragon. But…

He drops his hand; there is nothing he could do to help other than watch silently over the dragon as he sleeps.