For the rainbow that passed through the light,
For the door that opened to the world,
For the wide-area destruction weapon to return to its true form—
For the dragon who once soared through the skies to finally find rest—
Aslan had resolved to become the harbor where she could anchor.
To forge a magical gift capable of binding two souls in a sacred contract, Aslan needed a special relic—an item steeped in covenantal power. Ironically, this artifact, obtained by sheer chance, had originally been meant for another. Back then, he'd thought to use it to sign a pact with the Lady of the Lake. Fate, however, had other plans. The fairy never took the contract—but the Dragon Lady did.
Aslan placed a hand over his chest. A warm glow flared to life as ancient elven runes lit up across his skin. Slowly, two rings rose into the air from the runes, shimmering with gentle light. The spatial pocket carved into his body could hold only these two rings—hardly comparable to a certain thunder god who could store a full-length hammer inside himself—but perhaps, with further mastery of magic, that too could change.
These rings were once nothing more than metallic fragments, resembling slate. According to a cantankerous old scholar in Great Britain, the metal contained an overwhelming sense of contract magic. It didn't seem to originate from this world—or even from Earth at all. Some speculated the fragments were shards of the core of some foreign god.
Why such a fragment ended up on the British Isles was a mystery still unsolved.
But with this strange relic as an intermediary, Aslan had successfully awakened Melusine—and formed a binding pact with her.
Now, he hoped to take that relic and forge it anew, crafting a vessel that would allow Melusine to return to her current form, even after reverting to her true dragon state. If the dragon who flew through the stars had no place to land—then he would become her landing place. If the celestial beast was fated to drift ever further, then he would tether her—wrap a chain of light around her soul and never let go.
A bold dream. Perhaps even foolish. Melusine, after all, was a fragment of Albion—the pinnacle of dragonkind. The mystery she embodied was far from anything a single human could hope to contain.
Still, Aslan had come far. From blacksmithing and enchantment to combat and defense, he had mastered much. But now he stood at a crossroads. If he wanted to deepen his magical knowledge—to have any chance of creating such a bond—he would need to return to human society.
As much as he loved the fairies, he was still human. The world of men was better suited to studying advanced magic. Elven language and glyphs had brought him this far, but they could only take him so much further. And though he had an old friend who knew magic, that bastard was more inclined to let fate play itself out. No matter what Aslan said, that man would continue guiding things according to some "prophecy" he claimed to have seen.
But was it really a prophecy? Or just a cleverly veiled manipulation of present events?
Either way, it wasn't Aslan's place to interfere. The red dragon and the white dragon would still clash. The red would defeat the white, ending the mystery of the island and marking the final decline of the divine lineage of Britain.
"Aslan? What are you thinking about?"
Melusine's soft voice pulled him back to reality. She was watching him with concern, tugging gently at the hem of his clothes. Her golden eyes shimmered with worry.
Aslan shook his head slowly, a smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing important. Just thinking about how the gears of fate are beginning to turn... and wondering what role I'm supposed to play in the grand tale to come. But none of that matters right now. You're my first priority, Melusine."
He paused. "Once we enter the human world, will you be okay? You won't feel out of place?"
Melusine responded in her usual directness: she threw her arms around him and rubbed her cheek against his chest, purring like a content cat. The sheer honesty of her affection made Aslan freeze.
Wait a second. Was this... his first time falling in love?
Counting back through his years—his time spent learning smithing, enchantment, and wandering alone—he realized with horror that he was, counting his past life-in fact, well into his thirties without ever having had a girlfriend. A textbook late-blooming magician!
"I won't be uncomfortable at all," Melusine said brightly. "I don't mind other humans. As long as I'm with Aslan, that's enough. I'm your contracted dragon, remember? My emotions rise and fall with yours. You do understand that, right?"
Aslan instinctively took a half-step back, flustered by the sudden burst of affection. Calm down, calm down. This damn adolescent body...!
Only one option remained: emotional redirection.
He exhaled deeply, relaxing his muscles. Then he smiled with the peaceful composure of a sage. Yes... that's right. All he had to do was redirect his feelings into another channel.
What a good girl~ So adorable~ My sweet, precious daughter... Daddy will take good care of you~
If he saw the girl in front of him not as a lover, but as a daughter—then there would be no problem. Yes! Redirecting romantic tension into paternal affection! A flawless plan. This was Aslan's signature emotional transmutation technique!
"Well then, if you're fine with it, let's pack up. We should say goodbye to the forest fairies. When all this is over, we might be able to come back and live here again."
Melusine nodded but turned away, pouting slightly. Her steps were small and stiff. She'd been so open with her affection—why did Aslan look so... indifferent?
Was her current form not attractive enough to him?
But that didn't seem right...
Regardless. Frustrating!
And to make things worse, Aslan didn't seem particularly fond of the fairies' figures either.
While Melusine busied herself with tidying up their little cabin, Aslan shook off his father-mode trance. It worked well in a pinch, but he couldn't stay in that mindset for long. If he overcommitted to the "wise old dad" persona, he might never snap out of it again.
Where had Melusine learned such bold romantic moves anyway? If he hadn't reacted fast, today might have ended in complete embarrassment.
Just as he let out a breath of relief, something delicate fluttered past his eyes.
A single petal—soft, pale, and fragrant—floated through the air. The faint scent of flowers followed, gentle and familiar.
Aslan froze, brow furrowing slightly.
Something was coming.