While Ash was being branded as "non-recyclable trash," far away in the bustling imperial capital of Nabistine, a different story was unfolding. The city was home to a vast array of opulent, solemn palaces, but none stood out more than the towering structure perched on an island in Aran Lake. With its pristine white walls, azure roof, and flocks of canaries and doves fluttering about, it looked less like a building and more like something conjured from a fairy tale.
"And so, the brave knight defeated the fire-breathing dragon, rescued the beautiful princess from its lair, and together they returned to the capital. Their love was celebrated by all, the king himself presiding over their wedding. From then on, the knight and the princess lived happily ever after. A joyous tale indeed."
An elderly woman with a kind smile closed the storybook as the clock in the room chimed the hour. A charming cuckoo bird popped out of the clock, chirping to announce the time.
"Princess, the clock has struck twelve," the old woman said gently, tucking the blanket snugly around the bed's occupant. Her hands were careful, as though the simple act of tucking in the blanket might hurt the princess.
The young princess blinked her large, enchanting green eyes—eyes that shimmered like stars. Her skin was as fair as snow, her lips as red as blood, and her hair as black as a raven's feathers, cascading over the pillow like an elegant fan.
"Grandma Martha, when will a dragon come to take me away?" the princess asked, her voice soft but tinged with curiosity.
The old woman chuckled and patted the princess's head. "The brave knights outside are protecting you, my dear princess. No dragon can get through."
"Oh? But wouldn't the dragon be disappointed?" the princess mused, a trace of sadness in her voice. "It must really want to take me away, just like how much I want to see Nina… Grandma Martha, when will Princess Nina come to visit me?"
"Princess Nina is very busy, but I'm sure she'll come to see you as soon as she has time," Martha reassured her.
With that, she turned off the bedside lamp and quietly left the room.
Left alone, the princess lay in bed, her thoughts wandering. She began to picture the dragon she longed to meet: four grand horns, glittering bronze scales, perfectly aligned razor-sharp teeth, and eyes as big and reflective as mirrors, eyes where she could see her own reflection…
When she turned over in bed, her breath caught. Outside the window, hovering in the night sky, was a dragon—just as she had imagined. Its massive bronze wings flapped gently, its vertical pupil locked onto her with an intense, unwavering gaze.
Throwing off her covers, the princess climbed out of bed. Dressed in a simple white cotton nightgown, she stepped barefoot onto the cold marble floor and made her way to the window, her wide green eyes meeting the dragon's piercing gaze.
"Are you here to take me away?" she asked softly.
The dragon didn't speak but continued to stare silently at her.
Yet somehow, the princess felt as though she'd heard a response. A radiant smile spread across her face. "All right, I'll go with you."
To the princess, this dragon was more than a mere beast—it was her hero, here to save her from her gilded cage. Riding its back, she imagined soaring through the skies, seeing the world from above, and embarking on thrilling adventures. It was everything she had ever dreamed of.
Carefully, she climbed onto the windowsill. The magical barriers that usually protected her seemed to have vanished. Sitting on the edge, her delicate feet dangling, she opened her arms wide toward the dragon. "Thank you, my dragon."
What she didn't know was that the knights stationed at the tower weren't protectors. They were guards.
And the dragon? It wasn't real.
But the princess? She jumped anyway.
A shrill whistle pierced the stillness of the night, throwing the palace into chaos. Royal mages were summoned, and three-winged archmages ascended directly to the tower, conducting a room-by-room search. Despite their frantic efforts, they found nothing.
"Where's the princess?"
"She's gone!"
"Search the area immediately! Bring in the prophecy mages—no, use the Book of Revelations to locate her! I don't care how many points it costs!"
"The Book of Revelations isn't responding!"
"How is that even possible…?"
Frustrated and panicked, the search teams left the disordered room, expanding their efforts to the entire capital.
Unnoticed by anyone, an uninvited guest stood quietly in the room, observing the unfolding chaos with amusement.
He approached the window, leaning casually against the frame as he watched the brilliant lights of the bustling city below. Layers of shimmering auroras began to spread across the skyline, thousands of Eagle Eye drones taking to the air. On the ground, laser-like patterns illuminated the streets as the city's surveillance systems went into overdrive. Every corner of the capital was scanned within minutes, magical anomalies purged, all to find the missing princess.
"Well, that saves me some trouble," the guest murmured, resting his chin on his hand. "Educating a sword saint takes a lot of 'time,' after all."
"Who are you?"
The sharp, irritated voice came from behind. The guest turned to see a girl in a black dress standing by the bed. Her flawless features—snow-white skin, blood-red lips, and cascading black hair—were strikingly familiar.
But unlike the serene princess who had just leapt into the night, this girl was brimming with anger. With her hands on her hips and cheeks puffed out, she glared at him, looking as though she might lunge at him at any moment.
"I was going to say, 'Nice to meet you,' but we've already been staring at each other for a while," the guest said with a shrug. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Witch. You can call me Observer."
"I'm not a witch!" The girl stormed up to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I am Princess Lisdia! You can call me Princess Liss or Princess Dia, but I don't have some weird title like Witch!"
The Observer leaned back slightly in a tactical retreat, raising an eyebrow. "All right, then. Should I call you Liss or Dia?"
The girl blinked, hesitated, then muttered, "…Dia."
"Still, I think 'Witch' has a nicer ring to it," the Observer said, turning back to the lively cityscape. "So, Witch, how does freedom feel?"
"Are you mocking me?" Dia demanded, grabbing the Observer by the collar and yanking him around. "Who are you, and how did you break through the palace's barriers to get here? Even with the bronze dragon's help, I could barely escape this cage!"
The Observer seemed unfazed, even as Dia nearly lifted him off the ground. "If legendary mages can sneak into this place, then what I've done isn't beyond the realm of possibility. But for you to see me at all? That's a different story entirely."
Dia's expression hardened. "I am not a soul, nor a spirit, nor even a manifestation of magic. I am a fragment of thought, a figment of imagination. No one but Liss has ever been able to perceive me. So tell me… how can you see a thought?"
Examining his misty, featureless visage, Dia narrowed her eyes. "Are you… a god?"
"Sorry to disappoint you," the Observer replied calmly. "I'm no god—at least, not yet. In fact, I'm here to ask for your help."