Summary:

If there’s one word that would describe Seulgi’s life, it was “bland”. Same bed, same irritating sunlight, same coffee, same work, and, the same city noise she grew to hate. So when a lady in a large waving robe crashed down her apartment, claiming she’s a witch, and asking her to come to God knows where, she was compelled to say yes.

***

It was the same night. She got off work at seven, brought takeouts from her favorite Japanese store, parked her car at the ground level of her apartment; greet her old neighbor out for his night walk as she struggles to insert her key inside the scratched keyhole, her takeout bumping recklessly against the door; same night, she’s sitting against the windowsill, a hot chocolate in her one hand as the other tap rhythmically against the white wood of the window sill.  She gazes at the eerie streets of London emptily, her thoughts gone as fast as they come. I have yet to dispose of the rubbish—are the cookies expired—aren’t those the one the annoying scouts sold— oh Ms.  Park’s puppy had a new haircut today—the scouts? — puppies. 

It was cozily silent, just how she likes it. Being compressed in her apartment, windows shut tight, the only sound she can hear is the occasional thumping of the feet from the room above her and the intermittent droplet from the faulty faucet in the comfort room parallel to her. She closed her eyes, humming along with tight warm air, the droplets, and the vibration from the floor….. Vibration from the floor? Was the deafening piercing sound there as well a while ago? She forced her eye to open, eyed her hot chocolate shaking ominously in time with the shaking of the whole room, eyed the seemingly peaceful street outside, and then it comes.  “BOOM!”

The next thing she knew, there was dust assaulting her senses, her ears ringing as it creeps into her head, she can already predict a coming headache. She coughed violently once and twice and then opened her eyes. She couldn’t see well from the dust that flogs the air, but one thing is for sure: no more nights staring by the window sill. From the corner adjacent to her up the window, she was whispering on a while ago, it was destroyed to dust, in addition, she thinks she needs to submit another apology letter to the room downstairs—and it’s not because of her out of tune electric guitar—the floor was, as worse, shattered down the furthest plank layer. She could see a hole gaping right under the imperceptible mess. She trudged closer, her forearm not providing any help to defend her from the assaulting dust, but despite her animated waving, she could not divide the clouds of dust, that is until.

“être claire”

                And then suddenly, it was all gone. From the fading smoke of dust, she could make out a shadow on the floor. She—judging from the voice—was small, and quirky—with the broomstick, play gun, robes and all—she must be some weird cosplayer, she thought, but can cosplayers fly? Then, the figure stood up, brushing her robe clean, and then stood tall her broomstick. When Seulgi tries to make out the face, she was meet with glowing emerald eyes, and then suddenly, like a flash, she was now face to face with a stellar beauty. Big doe eyes, button-like nose, soft thin cheeks, and matured lips, she tried hard to suppress a gulp.

                “You” The mysterious woman started in a deep voice—Seulgi tried to focus but after the warm breath danced on her lips, the only thing she could think about was how easy it would be to close the distance and kiss the stranger. That’s why the only thing she heard from the lady was. “and that’s why you, human, have to come with me.”

And she knew she was doomed to compel. “Okay.”

If there’s one word that would describe her life, it was “bland” and “dull”, and every other word that could describe boredom.  Same rigid bed, same unwelcomed irritating sunlight that greets her in the morning, same bitter coffee, same work at the small newspaper company, and, the same city noise she grew to hate. So when a lady in a large waving robe with glowing emerald eyes crashed down her apartment, claiming she’s a witch—well she somehow heard that part—asking her to come to God knows where, she was compelled to say yes. But now she wishes, she should’ve thought more about that.

The last time she saw a dragon was when she was playing Monster Hunter World on her Nintendo switch, and that was just hours ago while she was on her lunch break after typing robotically for hours. It was a Nergigante, one of the most difficult dragons she encountered. Two protruding thick horns from both sides of the wide expanse of its forehead, lava colored spiky skin, enormous devil-like wings, molten angry eyes, and lastly, the size of the Godzilla, or more larger than that she supposes. She was destined to fail—and she did, for the 4^th time that day. That was what she imagines dragons are supposed to be like—along with various consuming of movies, comics, and mythology books— they are only supposed to be three things: monstrous, wings, and fire (or some element not limited to Atla’s four). It wasn’t supposed to be small like a puppy, feathered, soft, friendly, and nuzzling against her palm. It wasn’t supposed to be like that at all.

She looks at Irene—the girl introduced herself after being tired of the Ms. Witch Seulgi incessantly uttered—chin buried on the elbows lying on the table, her eyes meet the same steely eyes that have been scrutinizing her every being for the past hour, the morning light gracing the side of her face aptly. She looks like a princess just like that, Seulgi thought.  They were in a café of some inn, lazing inconspicuously against the brawny middle-aged men carrying axes, staffs, and the likes.

                “Is this real?” She whispered astonishingly while looking around her.

                “Do you want me to pinch you again?” Irene replied irritatingly. She eyes her upper arm and the newborn red marks and quickly shook her head.

                “Where are we again?” She timidly grins, ready for the outburst from the other girl, but she just heard the same heavy sigh as Irene once again give her an overall.

“We are in Reverse London, you get it don’t you? I’ve said this for the fourth time.  Like the upside-down or something. It’s London, but the imperceivable things in real London are perceivable here.”

“Like dragons?”

“Yes.”

“Why am I here again?”

Irene glares at her as she straightens her back, patting the now sleeping dragon.

“I’m going to say this one. Last. Time.”

Seulgi nods vigorously, lending all her senses to the other girl.

“You, Seulgi, attracts all the ing dragons in the real world, they clump on one street. Even though you can’t see it, down here there is a horde of dragons camping at the same very street every night, making this hard for us and all the innocent people here.” Irene spouts venomously. Seulgi gulps.

“And why am I here?”

Irene rolled her eyes.

“I need to kill you.”

There was this problem in her 5th-grade math class, it was a multiplication of fraction, her last obstacle from finishing the grueling exam; she knows she isn’t that smart, but her gut knew her answer was right, and even though it wasn’t, any solving could not amount to the choices: Yes and no. That was how she felt now, dumbfounded.

“Where the is the connection?? Did I miss a whole paragraph??” gapes and eyebrows furrow but Irene only stares boringly at her, as if it isn’t a matter of Seulgi’s life and death.

“You per se, is dangerous, both to the real world and the reverse world. Although inconceivable, dragons do pose harm to the real world, they kill people. Ring a bell?” The images of the evening news flash on her mind momentarily, reporting innumerable unexplainable deaths near her perimeter, as if it was a weather report with how often it was. She shook her head to rid of the images. “And to be able to reduce those deaths, the association, has a bounty on your head. In layman’s terms, get rid of the sweets that attract the ants, and the sweets is you, honey.” She recited nonchalantly.

Seulgi grips the edge of the desk, anger rising to her eyes. Despite how uncharitable and ignorant she was to the people around her, despite knowing how insignificant she was, a speck of dust to the vast universe, she knows she doesn’t deserve this.

“Why did you need to—“

“Killing you up there is a crime.” Irene stood up, opening her robe to grab her gun from the gun sling on her right leg, and points it directly at Seulgi. “And here it is a heroic deed.”

An orb generates from the gun’s front, glowing in a blinding yellowish-white light, evidently growing from an intense surge of energy, she tried to stand up but she could not move a finger. She could see how Irene’s face contorts to smirk. She clenched her eyes shut, praying nothings to a god she started to believe since five seconds ago. She holds her breath. One. Two. Three. Four. Five…

Eleven. Twelve. It doesn’t come, even after her third round with 1 to 10. When she passes from her panic and enters a respite—she hopes it's not—, she realizes there wasn’t a blinding light penetrating against the thin skin of her eyes anymore. She released a laborious breath and slowly opens her eyes.

“That was a joke.” Irene blew the nuzzle of her gun again, once again sitting in front of her. “Just gonna use you as bait.” A smirk gradually forms against her pretty face again, and Seulgi just knows that wasn’t her last heart attack for the day.

She chanted endless repentance and apologies inside her head for the merciless killing she did in her short gaming life in Monster Hunter World. Paolumu was cute it was indeed a sin to kill it. She releases a shaky breath.

“Any last words?” Irene jeered as the devil herself continuously tighten the ropes around her, squeezing her against the chimney of some clueless elderly couple.

“ you.” Seulgi gritted under her teeth. Irene’s mocking laugh only added to her irritation. “I swear to god if I ever get out of these ropes, I’m going to strangle you with them.”

“ aren’t we?” Seulgi gaping incredulously was a reaction she was very much expecting.  Irene chortles.

“You. Are. Not. Going. To. Die.” She emphasized. She rubs her palms on her silky robe, done with her ministrations.

“You are not exactly trusted.” 

“Blah, blah, blah. If you weren’t gawking at my face a while ago, you would’ve heard every word I said. But since you were busy ogling my pretty face and debating whether you should kiss me or not, here we are.” Irene inched her face closer to Seulgi’s ear, whispering sultrily. “I offered a yes or no, honey.”

“I did not gawk at you!” Seulgi, red up to the tips of her ear, indignantly protested. She tries to move her head away from Irene, but Irene only sees this as an invitation; hence, she kissed the former’s cheek.

“Yes you did, but I’m not innocent myself.”

Before Seulgi could decipher what she said, Irene leaped down from the roof, disappearing into the darkness of the streets, and emerges now a dragon as her mount, the blue sky a fitting backdrop for the free-spirited girl.

“See you later honey!” Seulgi smacked her head against the chimney.

It was chaos. Not even five minutes have passed when she hears scratching against the walls of the house, piercing squeals thundering the skies, and the sees the creatures she just used to see in some mythology-based movies right before her eyes. Up the roof, a variety of dragons have placed themselves around her, growling as if she was some kind of prey (she is) there were small cat-like dragons up until the size of a whole truck—thankfully there was no Nergigante or else she would’ve fainted right on the spot-- She saw some release intimidating acid breaths; some have ice crawling from their feet, and some erratically changing colors like a chameleon. She knows she was bound to die, the dragons began prowling near her, ears (for those who have) pricking at the prospect of another prey, but before she could spout her helpless attempt at dragon communication, she feels a shadow loom above her. It was Irene. She released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“Just in time.” She growled in spite.

“Of course.” The other girl cheerily replied.

Before she could reply, bright light assaults her eyes, and then it was a battleground. Irene moves swiftly from one corner to another with the help of her dragon, deftly zapping a dragon’s head and decapitating them. Seulgi felt the roof shake from the sheer stress the rigorous movements make, she silently prayed for the couple downstairs, and before she knew it, without permission, green substance gets sloshed on her skin. It smelled noxious, like a dead body buried in a failed acid solution, she was just thankful it didn’t melt her skin. She spitted out some of the substance that landed on her lips. She thought this isn’t going to end: the dragons just keep coming and dying. She glared at the lithe and slender body skillfully dodging a fireball, already formulating the perfect revenge, but before she could finish her thought about tying the girl on the same chimney, oddly, the roof became silent. She looksedaround her in realization, all the dragons’ decapitated, green blood sliding down the roof, and Irene walking nearer as if she just did a little jog and not successfully eliminate the horde of dragons. Before she could speak up her long list of complaints, Irene beat her to it.

 “Up for a date?” Irene said though it feels more like a taunt.

“Go to hell.” Seulgi grumbled against her gritted teeth.

“I swear no more dragons honey.”

“If I see one more—“ Seulgi feels warm shaky lips press on hers, and she was speechless. Seeing her reaction, Irene smirks to herself as she starts to undo the ropes.

“Up for a date?” Irene reinstates with more emphasis. Her eyes glittering in mirth, very unlike the dead dragons scattered around them.

And like always, Seulgi was compelled to agree.