Part 1
The Witch Who Found a Dragon
It was a seemingly normal day in the local marketplace. I was completing my shopping when suddenly, I stumbled across a curious egg. It was tucked away in a secluded corner of the market, and my eyes lit up when I realized what it was.
An egg this big will give me five days’ worth of fried eggs!
I tucked the egg into my bag carefully, the size barely fitting into the sack I had brought. Once home, I cautiously retrieved it. It was nearly the size of my head, and I struggled to position it above my cast-iron skillet. I excitedly prepared to crack open the egg, only to exclaim in surprise as the first pieces of the shell fell away. A pair of eyes stared straight back at me through the shell’s opening.
Of course, it would certainly be absurd to make eye contact with the yolk or the white of an egg. Most people would even say it’s impossible and follow up with a question about your mental health. But denying all logic, staring back at me was a creature wrapped in a thin film filled with amniotic fluid. Its elongated body was pruney, topped by a bizarre face similar to some kind of lizard or perhaps an ugly bird.
As the young beast wriggled blindly in the egg, its eyes barely open, the amniotic fluid dripped onto the skillet. The creature shook its body, and the remaining pieces of the shell vanished into the fire underneath the pan.
Speechless, I stared blankly at the creature, unsure of what I should do as the wings on its back shuddered, then suddenly opened wide. After blinking a few times, the creature opened its eyes and stood firmly on the broiling skillet.
“Oh,” I breathed out. I finally realized what it was—a legendary being that hadn’t appeared since ancient times, one that now was merely a legend, only existing amidst the last pages of an encyclopedia. It was a dragon. Yes, a dragon.
I had heard of people finding chicks in cracked eggs. It was certainly possible if they were fertilized. Even discovering a quail wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.
But a dragon? Who could ever believe this?
* * *
I used to be an ordinary citizen with a very ordinary name: Noa Park. Unfortunately, my peaceful, ordinary life came to an end. In this world, my role was far from normal. Now, I was cursed to live in the body of some character in a notoriously anti-climatic romantic fantasy novel.
I had never intended any of this. One day, I was dying, having burnt myself out by working long hours, my body finally giving in to the stress I was under. The next thing I knew, I was wandering the star-filled multiverse as a spirit. In my wandering, I came across a dead body, and the next thing I knew, I was possessing the corpse of the villainous antagonist of the novel—Baroness Eleanora Aiselle.
A wicked woman born to do evil deeds, Eleanora had enough malevolence to qualify as the universe’s most powerful witch. However, her eventual downfall at the hands of the protagonists was disappointingly swift.
The moment I discovered her sitting before a table in her glittering residence in the capital city still remains vivid in my memory. Her body was unscathed, her facial expression serene. Yet, her heart wasn’t beating. She looked more like a mannequin than a freshly deceased corpse—like a doll that had never been alive. Wondering if she was truly human, I leaned in to get a closer look. Before I knew it, my soul had been absorbed into her body.
It wasn’t until I had fully merged with the body that I realized where I was and to whom this body belonged. Despite the initial shock, I quickly realized that being stuck inside a novel was the least of my problems.
Eleanora had somehow died before the story got off the ground, and sadly, no one knew. Nor were they aware that I was now possessing her body.
In other words, I would be the one to get slaughtered by the party of protagonists in a few years.
It felt crappy to think that I’d die again. Why couldn’t I have possessed the body of some background character without a role in this story? A decent-looking character with a little amount of money and no effect on the storyline would have been perfect.
Anyway, since I was already off to a rocky start, I quickly packed up what I could find of Eleanora’s possessions that could be of use and headed to her residence in the distant countryside. There was absolutely no intention whatsoever of getting involved in the original story in my mind—I had already died from overworking myself once in my past life. This time, I was determined to live healthy and stress-free, no matter what.
It’s been two years since that day, and I have been indulging in the laziest life I could ever imagine, striving to live by those principles in the remote village of Sorent. So why on earth did this baby dragon suddenly appear before me?
Puzzled, I stared as it cooed and flapped its membranous wings. Despite my reservations, I couldn’t just leave the newborn creature on the iron skillet. I gently cleaned it up, wrapped it in a blanket, and placed it in front of the fireplace. It shook its body contentedly and soon started nodding off.
“Whew…” I sighed deeply, considering the creature in front of me.
This black baby dragon was the pet of the novel’s heroine, the cause of the story’s anti-climatic finish, and, most importantly, the one responsible for Eleanora’s fiery demise.
In other words, it was a cursed dragon.
In the original storyline, the heroine, Renia, was supposed to find the egg, crack it open, and make the baby dragon imprint on her. But something had clearly gone very wrong, and I found it first.
I clicked my tongue as I watched the baby dragon dozing, its head leaning precariously off to the side. “You came to the wrong place, kiddo,” I muttered, reaching out to lay it comfortably on its side.
Returning the missing dragon to its rightful owner would be the proper thing to do, right? Besides, I didn’t want anything to do with this.
The next day, I rolled the little creature carefully in a blanket, put it in a small, pretty cage, and sent it off to the capital city via special delivery. The recipient was none other than Renia Voltaire, the daughter of a count and the heroine of the novel. The sender box was simply marked as “unknown.”
Later that day, I breathed a sigh of relief after receiving confirmation that the delivery was successful.
It’s all right, Noa. That was just a little blip on the road. Your calm, restful life is still intact!
Or so I thought.
The very next morning, I woke up to the sight of the baby dragon flapping its wings in front of my fireplace as if it had never left at all. Noticing me, it blinked and made a soft cooing noise.
Was I dreaming? I pulled my polka-dot sleeping cap over my eyes and rubbed them in disbelief. Once I felt more awake, I uncovered my eyes and peeked out at my fireplace. The creature was nowhere to be seen.
“Yes!” I exclaimed as I straightened the sleeping cap on my head. With a snap of my fingers, I brought the fireplace to life to warm the chilly air. “All right, back to bed.”
Right when I turned my body, I staggered as something suddenly tugged at me. I lowered my gaze, and there it was again. The pitch-black baby dragon was clinging desperately to the end of my robe.
Deciding that the dragon would simply disappear if I pretended it didn’t exist, I started walking away. My thin robe stretched taut as the dragon and I began pulling it in opposite directions. Instead of going further, I bit my lip, realizing that the fragile gown would not survive this game of tug-of-war. Ripping the gown was not an option. It had come with the sleeping cap, and the matching polka-dot sleepwear set was my favorite. It was a limited-edition deal I had paid a fortune for from “Frilly Frilly Happy Night Boutique” and was completely irreplaceable.
I looked down at the baby dragon. Our eyes met in a muted parley.
“Wait! Truce!” my eyes begged silently.
“Fine, truce,” the baby dragon seemed to respond wordlessly as it let go of my robe.
Once my nightgown was out of danger, I quickly waved my hand, and the blanket by the fireplace flew through the air like a magic carpet, wrapping itself tightly around the tiny creature.
Surprised, it cried out and struggled against the confines of the blanket.
I smiled smugly, brushing off my hands. If there was anything that had benefited me by possessing Eleanora’s body, this was it. True to her reputation as the most wicked woman in this world, Eleanora had powerful magic at her fingertips and was a renowned inventor of a wide range of magical devices.
Of course, I couldn’t perfectly replicate her magic because I wasn’t the real Eleanora. However, I had no problem handling her enchanted inventions. Whether it was a blanket that flew out and landed on someone’s shoulder at a wave of my hand or a fireplace that adjusted its intensity with a snap of my fingers, everything in the house was at my beck and call. Even the hundred-shot automatic bazooka that caused endless problems for the male and female leads in the novel and the magic sword that would deliver critical blows at the target I set were mine to use.
Eleanora must have thought she wouldn’t be able to remember it all herself because she wrote how everything worked in her diary, which made my life very easy. This meant overpowering a baby dragon was a piece of cake for me!
The little beast made a mewling sound and staggered away, still wrapped in the blanket. With its eyesight restricted, it wobbled sideways and eventually fell over backward. Then, a pair of tear-stained, burgundy eyes appeared from underneath the blanket. The dragon hiccuped sadly, staring at me with heartbroken eyes.
Its cuteness pricked my conscience and pulled at my heartstrings. “What am I doing to this baby?” I wondered aloud, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. I crouched down in front of the dragon and grabbed the edge of the blanket to dab away its tears. It blinked up at me and dropped its mouth open in something akin to a smile.
Looking at it more carefully, I realized the dragon now looked more grown. When it had just hatched the day before, it had been a shriveled newborn that could barely move its eyelids. Today, its skin was tighter, and its eyes were wide open.
“Sweetie,” I said, tickling the dragon’s moist chin. The tiny creature cooed contentedly. “Did you get delivered to the wrong address?”