Chapter 1
"Should I read a new webtoon or reread my comfort webtoon for the 18th time?"
This was the question that plagued Lara's mind every evening on her commute home. She usually opted to reread her comfort webtoon, "Amidst the thorns" but today she considered finally reading a webtoon that she had been putting off for a long time. "Amidst the flowers", which was by the same author.
It sounded like a sequel but it wasn't, which made no sense to Lara because she loved the world of the first webtoon and was let down to find out that the new one was set in a different world. This was part of the reason she'd put it off for so long. The other reason was that "Amidst the thorns" was so brilliant that every webtoon she'd read after that just could not measure up. High expectations usually led to disappointment. This applied to most things in her life.
But today was the day that she finally caved in. And so she got home, collapsed on her bed and started reading "Amidst the flowers"
***
She was all caught up on "Amidst the flowers" and she took a moment to ruminate on what she'd just read.
She hated it.
The protagonist of "Amidst the thorns" had been brilliant, strong and cunning while she had some choice words to share about the protagonist of "Amidst the flowers." And so she decided to do just that.
She started angrily typing her review:
"The author fell off so hard. ATT was a masterpiece and the protagonist Dahlia is still my absolute favorite webtoon protagonist of all time. Meanwhile ATF not only has a misleading title but the protagonist, Noelle is an absolute doormat!! She goes around in a world full of sunshine and rainbows doing absolutely nothing and everyone just loves her for it. It makes zero sense!! Noelle's delicate ass wouldn't last a month in the cutthroat world of ATT without her plot armor aka to protect her!!"
She threw her phone off to the side of the bed and settled in to sleep. She'd sacrificed a good amount of sleep to read ATF and she was starting to regret it. The regret was accompanied by a sense of guilt. Perhaps she had been too harsh in her review? The author was still one of her favorite creators and they didn't deserve those harsh words.
Maybe the new webtoon wasn't their passion project? Maybe they'd been forced by the publishing company to write a world of sunshine and rainbows because the first one had been too violent? Maybe she should delete or at least edit her review in the morning?
It was with these muddled thoughts that she finally fell asleep.
***
When Lara woke up, she instantly knew something was so very wrong. The unfamiliar ceiling painted with delicate gold filigree alerted her to the fact that she wasn't home. Curtains of velvet hung heavy on either side of the bed, muting the light and painting the room a soft yellow. Everything was elegant, hushed and unfamiliar.
She sat up slowly, heart hammering in her chest. The sheets beneath her were so very soft and smelled faintly of roses. A vanity table gleamed in the corner, its mirror slightly fogged. She paused as realization sunk in.
She knew this vanity table! She'd drawn fanart of this very vanity table once and cursed how overly detailed it was. It was Dahlia's! With a pounding heart, she slowly stepped towards the mirror to confirm her suspicions.
The door to the room burst open.
"Well well well, is the golden child finally rebelling?"
The man who spoke those words looked a lot like Dahlia. She figured that this must be the brother whose name she couldn't recall. Didn't his name start with R? His presence in the webtoon was practically non-existent and his whole thing was that he was jealous of Dahlia. Which made sense because their whole family was full of fire mages but the brother had terrible control over his powers while Dahlia was one of the best mages of her generation.
He seemed ticked off by her lack of response so he continued. "You slept through breakfast. Are you planning on sleeping through lunch as well? Not that I care but father made me come see what was wrong."
His words were spoken lightly like those of a brother teasing with familiarity but she knew there was venom hidden behind that carefree exterior. She needed to be careful around him.
Lara, or perhaps it was Dahlia now, finally responded. "I'll be there shortly," she replied in a tone she hoped sounded like nobility.
"Do whatever you want," he called out behind his shoulder and left just as swiftly as he'd arrived. A maid bowed to him, waiting until he left before entering the room.
Ivy.
The name surfaced in Dahlia's mind like something she'd always known. The maid who would remain by her side no matter what.
Dahlia let herself be pampered and dressed by Ivy, which greatly calmed her nerves. Her clothes were so unlike the ones she was used to, especially with the way the layers of fabric weighed her down with each fastening. As she sat in front of the mirror, her face in the reflection seemed familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, yet it was to be her face now. For how long, she did not know.
She sat there in a daze as Ivy gently did her hair. Now that she had a moment to herself, the panic was setting in. She subtly pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Stories were supposed to be a form of escapism. People always said books could carry readers into another world. And today, it was truer than ever for her.
She didn't know how to feel about it. On one hand, she'd always wanted some excitement to pop into her life and now that it had finally happened, it felt overwhelming.
Life back home had been simple. Boring even, but it wasn't bad at all. She had been passively going through life craving an adventure maybe once a month before returning to her safe, mundane life with no complaints.
It was not an exciting life but it had been hers and it had felt safe in its familiarity. She didn't know anything about this world beyond what she had read. But that didn't mean she instantly knew what to do. It's not like the webtoon had covered small but important details like where she was supposed to ehem… relieve herself or stuff like that.
"All done, my lady," Ivy's voice took her out of her spiraling thoughts.
Crap! She did not know where the dining room was.
Or not.
"Ivy, walk with me," she said and stood up to leave. Ivy followed her order without question. She subtly followed Ivy through the corridors hoping she wasn't being too obvious. The mansion unfolded in long hallways and gleaming staircases, each painting and gilded frame oozing opulence. One painting in particular caught her eye.
An abstract painting of four people holding colored orbs. It was based on the legend of the four founders of the Aurelion kingdom who brought sorcery to the realm by making pacts with the four great elemental spirits. Ignivar for fire, Terramont for earth, Nereino for water and Zephyron for wind. Over the years, the Nereino line had died out leaving no successors after an unsuccessful coup leaving Terramont and Zephyron as the two duchies. The current monarchy, the Aurelio line, was also descended from the Terramonts.
And then there was the Ignivar marquistrate that managed to barely cling onto relevancy among the current nobility because of Dahlia's existence. Most Ignivars died early because their flames proved difficult to control and ended up consuming them but they had persisted through pure luck to avoid a similar fate as the Nereinos.
The current Marquis still carried burn scars from his childhood. He managed to hide them well enough but they still haunted him. That reminded Dahlia that she was late for lunch with said Marquis and she made haste.
Her father, the Marquis Ignivar, sat waiting in the dining hall across from her brother. He had a stern face and his glasses glinted sharply in the afternoon light. He asked after her health and turned to his food without waiting for her answer. Soon the brother, whose name she found out was Rowan, prattled on idly ignoring his father's disinterest.
Dahlia tried to sit as though she belonged at this table. She knew she didn't belong here but perhaps she could, given time. She tried to eat hoping she was using the right fork and following the etiquette of nobility. Her fork clanged against her plate and mortification filled her. She hoped her 'family' wouldn't notice.
And then, without warning, her vision blurred.
***
With a gasp, she woke up in bed, the familiar scent of roses invading her senses yet again. Her chest burned and her breath hitched. All of her senses felt overwhelmed as if she'd run a marathon (not speaking from experience).
The door slammed open.
"Well well well, is the golden child finally rebelling?"
She was in trouble.
***
"You slept through breakfast. Are you planning on sleeping through lunch as well? Not that I care but father made me come see what was wrong?"
Rowan spoke the exact same words as before. She quickly dismissed him and before Ivy could enter, Dahlia clutched at her burning chest and looked down. When she pulled her hand back, there was no blood like she'd expected. Instead there was a faint green glow coming from what looked like a flower on the center of her chest. It had 5 green petals and one grey petal.
Nothing like this had been in the original story.
What did it mean? Did it mean she had 6 tries at this before she… She didn't want to think about it. What had prompted her regression? Was it because she strayed too far from the ideal Dahlia? Did she get "de-syncronized" like in a popular video game?
Ivy entered the room once again and started preparing her for lunch. This time, Dahlia was ready. She went through all the table manners she knew in her head. If it went wrong this time, she planned to skip lunch altogether and hit the library to learn proper etiquette in her next life.
Once Ivy had dressed her with quiet efficiency, Dahlia rose with as much poise as she could muster. She endured the oppressive weight of the mansion's grandeur once more and reached the dining room.
This time, she paid attention to her movements and ate carefully like her life depended on it. It probably did.
She copied what she saw the Marquis do and it seemed to work well until—
***
She woke up with a gasp and clutched her chest. Her lungs burned and seized as though she had been plunged underwater. She pulled the covers over herself and peeked at her chest. There were only four green petals this time counting down to her demise.
The thought lodged like a stone in her throat. She thought that being transmigrated into the world of a webtoon would make her life easier but the pain and not knowing what was happening was threatening to overwhelm her.
The door burst open again.
"Well well well, is the golden child finally rebelling?"
She wanted to smack him in the face. Her anger must have shown on her face because he left the room with a subdued, "Father wants to see you at lunch."
Her "father" could go f—
She took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down. The regression phenomenon, as she dubbed it, was probably not happening because she wasn't as "Dahlia" as she could be.
She needed answers and she needed them fast. She pounced on Ivy the moment she entered and ordered her to take her to the library. As she walked, a phantom pain pulsed in her chest as a harsh reminder of her reality.
What did the petals mean and what had she done to deserve losing two of them?
The house staff greeted her like nothing was wrong but a young maid couldn't help but gasp in shock at seeing her mistress walk around the house in her nightclothes. Dahlia ignored them and kept walking while internally cursing the size of the mansion.
At long last, they reached a heavy set of double doors.
The scent of aged paper and ink rolled out, soft and familiar.
For a moment, all was right with the world and she felt at peace reminiscing about her childhood spent in her school library. This one was enormous compared to the ones she'd been to. The ceiling was high enough to swallow sound and rows of shelves marched on endlessly across the room.
And tucked in the far end was a little alcove next to the window, flanked with silky, ivory curtains. It looked like something out of a dream… or a pinterest board. A reading nook carved into the wall with plush cushions that begged her to come hold them.
Dahlia's breath hitched. Her worries all melted away and a small smile tugged at her lips.
This moment was perfect.
She asked Ivy to bring her an empty notebook and settled into what she now dubbed, "her spot." She hugged the soft cushion close and allowed herself a moment of indulgence. Outside the window, the sky turned restless with a slight bruise of grey spreading across the blue. Ivy returned and handed her two things: A notebook bound in plain brown leather and a jet black quill but no ink. Perhaps it was enchanted?
She ordered Ivy to fetch her some tea and waited until she left before trying out the quill, which did work without ink.
It was no ball pen but it would do for now. Her handwriting trembled on the first line, the paper resisting the quill making a slight scratchy sound. She could probably get used to the scratchy feeling given enough time. She didn't know what the date was and she felt like she was bothering Ivy enough already so she wrote down:
Day 1 - Had lunch with the Marquis and his son. Regressed at approximately 2:00pm
Day 2 - Same thing tbh.
Day 3 - Visited the library. It is almost 2:00pm but I'm still here.
She paused, watching the ink dry in delicate, branching veins. Journaling was her outlet in the real world and it felt just as calming in this strange new world as well. She wondered what else she could write down. Perhaps about the petals?
Little droplets of rain hit the window beside her. The light had shifted to something soft and ethereal. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her knees, hugging them close. From this height, she could see the roads unfurling past the mansion's gates. The townsfolk were still out and about despite the weather.
To them, this must all be so ordinary and yet to her, it was mesmerizing. Hooves on cobblestone splashing rainwater around them, the vendors pulling tarps over their stores and the faint scent of wet earth carried in by the wind.
And a lone figure wearing a white dress with bright blue accents who stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the crowd. Dahlia's pulse faltered.
Noelle?
The protagonist of "Amidst the flowers."
Disbelief washed over her. And then dread. What the hell was Noelle doing in the world of "Amidst the thorns"? And why was she walking around like a lost child announcing to the world that she was a tourist here?
Noelle's chestnut brown hair caught the wind as she stood at the sidewalk and turned to talk to a vendor there.
By god! This girl was going to get scammed!
Dahlia shut her journal and decided to go fetch Noelle and that's when it happened.
A carriage sharply turned the corner.
The driver yanked the reins, the horses reared, hooves flashing. The world seemed to slow down as the carriage swerved and Dahlia could only watch in horror as it crashed into Noelle. Her journal fell to the ground with a resounding thud.
And then the world blurred once again. And just like that, she only had three petals left.