I opened my eyes.
It was morning. Birds were singing. Sunlight streamed down through the leaves. The bark against my back was rough. My arm throbbed. Memories of last night came rushing back. Monsters. Blood. The main road. Stars.
And then I felt it.
A gaze.
A gaze looking down at me from above. The Spirit King's blessing was vibrating like crazy. It wasn't a warning. It was something beyond a warning. Nature itself was holding its breath. The birdsong stopped. The wind died. Not a single leaf stirred.
I slowly raised my head.
There was an eye.
A golden eye. A vertically slit pupil. One eyeball larger than a human head was looking down at me. It was right in front of my face. Close enough for me to feel its breath. Hot breath. A smell like rock mixed with lightning. Raw mana.
It was a dragon.
The same shadow that had passed through the sky yesterday. The creature that had sent the monsters fleeing in terror. Now it was thrusting its head right in front of my face.
My body went rigid. It felt like my heart had stopped. I needed to breathe, but my lungs wouldn't cooperate. I couldn't move even one finger.
'...I'm dead.'
My mind went blank. It wasn't a band of thieves, or a monster, but a dragon. This was on an entirely different level. An opponent even possessing Kalen wouldn't be enough to beat. An opponent even the Spirit King's blessing couldn't handle. An opponent I simply couldn't win against.
The dragon's golden eye blinked. Slowly. Its enormous eyelid lowered and rose again. That single blink stirred up the wind.
But.
It didn't kill me.
The dragon only looked down at me. It didn't growl. It didn't bare its teeth. It was simply looking. As if it were checking something.
Kalen thrashed inside my body. Run. That was the feeling. But I couldn't move. It wasn't because of fear. No, there was fear too. But that wasn't all.
I felt it.
There was something inside the dragon's mana. My shaman's senses were reading it. The texture of the mana. The emotions contained within it. Just as when I met the Spirit King, it was coming through as sensation rather than language.
Curiosity. And desperation.
The dragon was curious about me. At the same time, it desperately wanted something.
“...Do you need something from me?”
I startled myself with the words that came out of my mouth. I had actually spoken to a dragon from right in front of its face. It was insane. But that was what shamans did. A shaman was someone who spoke first in front of frightening beings. My master had always said so. Whether it was a ghost or a god, speak to it first. Silence handed the initiative to the other side.
The dragon's eye narrowed slightly.
Then it moved.
Its enormous head rose. I could see its neck. Its scales shattered the morning sunlight into glittering fragments. They were silver. A blue sheen flowed across the silver scales. It was beautiful. Beautiful enough to be terrifying.
The dragon turned its head. West. Toward the mountains. Then it looked back at me.
It wanted me to follow.
“...What?”
The dragon looked west again. Then back at me. There was no mistaking it. It wanted me to follow.
'You've got to be kidding me. It wants me to go to its nest?'
Kalen was violently objecting inside me. No. If you go, you'll die. That feeling poured out from within the vessel.
But.
My shaman's senses were telling me this dragon wasn't trying to hurt me. It wanted to show me something. No, it wanted to ask me for something. Desperation. Desperation was mixed into the mana of this enormous being.
I stood up. My legs were trembling. The wound in my arm throbbed. I was hungry. My physical condition was the worst it could be.
“...You're not going to eat me if I go, right?”
The dragon didn't answer. Naturally. But its golden eye blinked one more time. I decided to take that as a yes. I had no basis for it. Just a shaman's gut feeling.
'I'm sorry, Kalen. This is just how I am.'
Kalen's objections grew even more vehement. But I walked. West. Following the dragon.
The dragon's lair was a massive cave halfway up the mountain range.
The cave was spacious. There was plenty of room even for the dragon to enter. The ceiling was high. Moss glowed along the walls. Blue light. Moss infused with mana. It cast a soft glow throughout the cave.
And then I saw it.
Deep inside the cave, an egg rested on a rock. One egg. A white egg, about the size of two human heads. Silver patterns flowed across its surface. The same color as its mother's scales.
But something was strange.
My shaman's senses read it. The energy coming from the egg. There was life force. But it was weak. Far too weak. Like a candle about to go out. And tangled across that life force was a black energy. The flow of mana was blocked. Like an umbilical cord twisting before birth. Like its vitality was being choked off.
I looked back at the dragon.
The dragon's golden eye was fixed on the egg. I could read the emotions in that eye. Because I was a shaman.
Worry. Fear. And desperation.
This enormous, overwhelming creature was falling apart over a single egg.
“...Is the baby sick?”
The dragon looked at me. Its golden eye trembled.
I knelt in front of the egg. I placed both hands on top of it. I closed my eyes. And began to pray.
I had no ritual tools. I was using my bare hands. I was trying to heal a dragon's egg with nothing but my hands. Blood ran from my nose. My ears bled too. The vessel screamed.
But it was coming undone. Little by little, the knots of black energy were loosening.
When I untangled the final strand, the egg began to glow. White light filled the entire cave. Mana began flowing through the egg again. A tiny life moved. It wriggled. It was alive.
I took my hands away and fell backward.
“...I did it.”
I smiled with my face covered in blood from my nose.
The dragon pressed its nose to the egg and sniffed it. For a long time. Slowly. Then it raised its head and looked at me.
Its golden eye had changed.
Recognition. And gratitude.
The dragon didn't let me leave.
At first, I wondered if I was being held captive. Whenever I went toward the cave entrance, the dragon blocked the way with its tail. Gently. But firmly.
“...I can't leave?”
The dragon blew air through its nose. Hot breath sent my hair flying. Then it spread its wings and went outside the cave.
It returned about an hour later. A deer-like animal was dangling from its mouth. It dropped it in front of me with a thud.
“...You want me to eat this?”
The dragon blew through its nose again.
I looked down at the deer. It was raw. Blood was still running from it. It was a meal I never could have imagined back when I was living as a chaebol heiress in Korea.
“...I need to start a fire, at least.”
The dragon lowered its head. It opened its mouth slightly. A tiny flame bloomed between its teeth. Very small. It was controlling the fire so it wouldn't burn me.
I stared blankly at the dragon. Then I laughed.
“...This is my first time having a dragon start a fire for me.”
From that day on, my life in the dragon's lair began.
A week passed.
The dragon brought me food every day. Deer, rabbits, fish. It watched me cook, and whenever the fire grew weak, it started it again for me. When it rained, it covered the cave entrance with its wings. At night, it wrapped its tail around me to keep the wind out.
I realized something.
'Is it raising me?'
The dragon was a mother.
It was taking care of the benefactor who had saved its baby as if I were its own child. No, maybe taking care of a baby was simply the only way it knew how to show gratitude. For dragons, protecting and feeding someone was the only way to express thanks.
At first, I felt awkward. But I got used to it quickly. My mother had been the same way back in Korea. Oh, my beautiful daughter, eat your food. Put this on. Don't go anywhere. The dragon couldn't talk, but its actions were exactly the same.
After a month, our communication deepened.
I read the emotions contained in the dragon's mana with my shaman's senses. At first, I could only read simple emotions. Joy, worry, wariness. As time passed, I began to read more complicated things. Memories. Images. Things the dragon had seen and heard over thousands of years.
I sat beside the egg, touched the dragon's mana, and began reading the story of this world.
The name of this world was Ersia.
History flowed out of the dragon's memories. Thousands of years ago, there had been people in this world who could communicate with gods. Divine officials. Priestesses. Priests. They became vessels for the gods, borrowed their power, and maintained the world's balance. Gods of light, gods of darkness, and gods of nature had all descended into the world through human vessels.
But five hundred years ago, the Great Sundering occurred.
Images poured forth. The sky splitting apart. Temples collapsing. The people who had served as vessels for the gods losing their power one by one. The dragon didn't seem to know the exact cause either. But the result was clear. The passage between gods and humans had been severed. The vessels of the gods disappeared.
The only one left was the Saintess.
At the Temple of Light, only the Saintess could still use the power of a god. But the Saintess's power was one-sided. Light. Purification. Healing. Blessing. She could only deal with clean things. She couldn't touch the realm of darkness. The Demon God's curses, necromancy, the undead. The Saintess was powerless against things like that.
And the darkness was growing stronger.
In the dragon's memories, I saw images of black mist spreading. From the northern part of the continent. Slowly. But surely. They had held it back for five hundred years with the Saintess's light alone, but they were reaching their limit.
I opened my eyes.
“...So that's why you brought me here? The god from another world?”
The dragon's golden eyes turned to me. Its emotions came through.
I don't know. But you are different.
“What makes me different?”
An image came to me. The scene of me healing the egg. The energy that had flowed from my hands. It had been neither light nor darkness. It had been both. I had saved a life while dealing with the black energy at the same time. The Saintess could only purify black energy. I had untangled it. Handled it. Like I was talking to it.
Because I was a shaman.
That was what shamans did. They served gods and ghosts alike. They received heavenly gods and minor spirits alike. They didn't deal only with clean things. They dealt with filthy things too. In a gut ritual, they even called upon the Grim Reaper. Even if the Demon God came, they would talk to it. That was what a shaman was.
A shaman could do what a Saintess couldn't.
I sat still for a long time.
Back in Korea, whenever people heard the word shaman, they turned away. They called it superstition. They called us scammers. A chaebol family's daughter was a shaman? What a disgrace to the family.
But it was different here.
Here, being a shaman was something this world had lost.
Three months passed.
I told the dragon about Korea. The dragon showed an intense curiosity about knowledge from another dimension. Even though it had lived for thousands of years, this was its first time hearing stories about another world.
Whenever I explained gut rituals, the dragon's golden eyes widened. Humans summoned gods into their own bodies? And the gods danced and spoke through human bodies? The dragon's mana rippled with excitement.
When I talked about Korean food, the dragon tilted its head. It understood cooking with fire, but it had no concept of seasoning. Dragons ate things raw, after all.
“I want kimchi stew...”
Whenever I muttered that, the dragon brought me another deer. That wasn't what I meant.
In return, the dragon taught me about Ersia. Through its memories of mana. The geography of the continent. The locations of the kingdoms. The system of magic. The different kinds of monsters. The location of the Temple of Light where the Saintess resided. The northern frontier where the darkness was spreading.
Every day, I sat beside the egg and read the dragon's memories. And every day, I prayed. Even inside the dragon's lair, the Spirit King's blessing reacted faintly. My vessel was growing. Slowly, but surely.
When six months had passed, a sound came from the egg.
Tap. Tap-tap.
The dragon and I looked at the egg at the same time. A crack appeared across the surface where the silver patterns had flowed. Light leaked out. White light.
The egg broke open.
A tiny head emerged. Silver scales. The same color as its mother. Golden eyes. The same eyes as its mother. The baby dragon poked its head out and looked at me.
Then it crawled into my lap.
“...Huh?”
The baby dragon burrowed into my arms. It was warm. Small. About the size of a puppy. Its silver scales brushed my hands. They were soft.
The mother dragon looked down at the scene. I could read the emotions in its golden eyes.
Relief. Joy. And trust.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn't know why I was crying either. I just cried. Because the tiny life in my arms was warm. Because it finally felt real that I had saved that life. Because it was overwhelming to be trusted by this enormous being.
“...What is this little one's name?”
An image came from the dragon's mana. Silver. Dawn. The first light.
“...Silphia?”
The dragon blew air through its nose. Yes.
I held Silphia and smiled. My face still marked with blood from my nose.
A year passed.
Silphia grew. The baby that had once been the size of a puppy was now as big as a large dog. Its wings were growing. It still couldn't fly. It followed me everywhere. Whenever I prayed, it sat beside me. Whenever I slept, it climbed onto my stomach and slept there. It was heavy.
I had changed too.
My vessel had grown. A year of prayer. Training in the dense mana of the dragon's lair. Prayers aided by the Spirit King's blessing. I had achieved in one year the growth that would have taken three years in Korea. Kalen sat inside my vessel much more comfortably than before. It was like moving from a cramped room into a spacious one.
I had also become fluent in Ersia's language. Through the dragon's memories, I had learned this world's history, geography, and common knowledge. I was no longer the Yoon-seul who had stumbled through a halting conversation with Loen in the village.
And there was treasure in the dragon's lair.
Deep inside the cave were the things the dragon had collected over thousands of years. Gold coins were piled up like mountains. Magical tools, rare ores, ancient relics. Shining objects filled one side of the cave.
My jaw dropped the first time I saw it.
I was a chaebol heiress. I knew what wealth looked like. I picked up a gold coin and weighed it in my hand. Pure gold. How many tons of this was there?
“...How much would all this be worth in Korean won?”
I gave up trying to calculate it. The units were different.
The dragon looked at me. Then it pushed the pile of gold coins toward me with its nose.
“...Are you giving this to me?”
The dragon blew air through its nose.
I stared blankly at the pile of gold coins. Until yesterday, my entire fortune had been a few coins. The old leather pouch Loen had given me. Those coins were all I had.
“...I'm rich.”
Silphia rolled around on top of the gold coins. The gold reflected off its silver scales.
The day to leave arrived.
I knew I couldn't stay here forever. I had to find my ritual tools. The prophecy said they were scattered to the east, west, and north. A bell, a fan, and a ritual knife. I had to find them. Only then would I be whole again.
I stood at the cave entrance. My backpack was filled with gold coins. I wore clothes made from leather the dragon had brought me. I even had shoes. My first shoes in a year. I had no idea where the dragon had found them, but it had brought me a pair of human shoes in its mouth.
The mother dragon stood at the cave entrance.
I looked up at the dragon. A year ago, it had been an object of terror. Now it was different.
“Thank you.”
I bowed my head. A deep Korean-style bow. My forehead touched the ground.
“Thank you for feeding me. Thank you for letting me sleep here. Thank you for letting me see Silphia being born. Thank you for teaching me about this world.”
My throat tightened.
“...You were like a mother to me.”
The dragon's golden eyes trembled.
The dragon spread its wings. Its silver scales shattered the morning sunlight into glittering fragments. Wind stirred beneath its wings. Warm wind. Wind infused with mana.
That wind wrapped around me.
The old scars on my arm disappeared. My body felt lighter. I felt my vessel expand one more time. The dragon's mana was hardening the walls of my vessel, making them stronger.
Then the dragon lowered its head. It opened its mouth, and something fell from between its teeth.
A scale.
One silver scale. The dragon's scale. It was about the size of my palm. It felt light when I picked it up. But it was hard. It had to be harder than any metal in this world.
I accepted the scale.
An emotion came through the dragon's mana. This time, it wasn't an emotion. It was something closer to language. My shaman's senses translated it.
My name is Arkesia. This scale is a pact sworn in my name. If you are ever in danger, this scale will call me. And no being in this world will dare lay a hand on one marked with Arkesia's name.
My hand trembled.
The dragon's name. A silver dragon that had lived for thousands of years had pledged its name. The price for saving its baby's life. The weight of the year we had spent together. And the protection a mother gave her daughter.
“...Arkesia.”
I called its name. The dragon's golden eyes shone. Calling its name was the beginning of the pact itself.
Silphia rubbed its head against my leg. Don't go. That was the feeling.
I crouched down and stroked Silphia's head.
“I'll come back, okay?”
The same words I had said to the child in Loen's village. This time, it wasn't a lie. I would definitely come back.
Silphia let out a small cry. Eeeee. The cry of a baby dragon that couldn't roar yet.
I stood up. I put on my backpack. Tucked the scale against my chest. And descended the mountain.
Behind me, Arkesia took flight. Its silver scales gleamed in the sky. It made one circle. It circled once over me, then turned back beyond the mountain range.
I watched the sky for a long time.
Then I walked. East. Toward the main road. Toward the city.
It was different from a year ago. I wasn't barefoot. I wasn't empty-handed. My backpack held gold coins. I had a dragon's scale against my chest. Inside me were a larger vessel and Kalen. In my head was knowledge of this world.
And behind me was a dragon mother.
Kang Yoon-seul, shaman. Twenty-one years old. A year and a half of life in another world.
I was heading out into the world.