Chapter 47
It felt like I’d stepped into the library of a magical school from a movie. I was so excited that an unintentional “Squeak!” slipped out.
“Does that mean stop?”
‘No, it doesn’t!’
But all I could say was another loud “Squeak!”
“Hmm… I don’t think this section has anything about dragons, so I’ll move on?”
Unable to understand my intent, Calix decided on his own to keep walking. Luckily, as he followed the signs and book titles, he soon reached the deepest part of the library.
“This area’s for mythical creatures and ancient magic.”
With that helpful comment, we moved even further in. Calix stopped at one shelf, scanned the spines from top to bottom, then pulled out the thickest, oldest-looking book.
“Wanna read this one?”
I peeked my head out of his coat pocket.
The book’s title was Mythical Creatures. That was it.
‘Very on-the-nose title.’
Not that I could say that out loud—so I just nodded and let out a soft meow, hoping he’d take it as approval.
“Okay, I’ll open it now.”
“Mya!”
But before that, I asked to be put down. I pawed toward the table beside him, meowing to signal where I wanted to go. Thankfully, Calix understood and gently lifted me out of his pocket, placing me on the table.
The book was much larger than my kitten-sized body. I watched, fascinated, as the thick pages turned beside me. The book was so old, it didn’t even have a table of contents. If you wanted to find something, you had to actually read through it.
After skimming quickly through the text, Calix stopped at a section.
“Ah, here it is. About dragons.”
“Mya!!”
I jumped up onto the open book, nose twitching, and began to read the first line:
“The creature commonly referred to as a ‘dragon’ is known to be the creator of this world. The name ‘dragon’ is not its original name, but a simplified term created by humans for convenience, as its true name exists in a language humans cannot pronounce. Thus, the creature was downgraded in stature from its divine nature.”
I lifted my right front paw. That meant: turn the page.
Thankfully, Calix obliged.
“Dragons create magical power as naturally as breathing and infuse it into the world. The flow of magical power throughout the world revolves around the dragon, rising and falling like breath.”
“Dragons dream of all worlds and exist simultaneously in the past, present, and future. Just witnessing a dragon fills humans with reverence and awe.”
“Anyone with magical power cannot help but be drawn to dragons. Dragons are both living and non-living, both the world itself and an individual being.”
After that, the book went on to praise dragons and describe their physical traits.
‘I already know what they look like, so I can skip that.’
What really caught my attention was this:
“Dragons dream of all worlds and exist simultaneously in the past, present, and future.”
‘Is that why I’ve been having strange dreams lately? Because my magic is connected to the dragon?’
‘If that’s true… is the dragon dreaming the same dreams as me?’
I imagined the dragon, sleeping for centuries deep in the basement, dreaming of countless worlds—and it gave me an eerie feeling.
I was silent for a while, prompting Calix to ask in a low voice:
“Should we keep looking?”
Just in case, I nodded.
But none of the other books Calix found had anything better. Titles like The Empire’s Founding Myths, Theology 101, and Ancient Beasts only mentioned dragons briefly—if at all. The content was either repetitive or far less informative than the first book.
In the end, all we’d really gained were those few paragraphs from the first book.
There was one new thing I learned: the dragon is the Empire’s official symbol. Calix probably already knew that.
‘So that’s why the Emperor was so obsessed with owning a dragon.’
Once again, I thought about that same line:
“Dragons dream of all worlds and exist simultaneously in the past, present, and future.”
That was the line I came for—so in a way, I was satisfied. At the same time, though, my feelings were complicated. It was a good thing I looked like a cat—Calix couldn’t see my expression.
Signaling that it was time to go, I pointed a paw at him and meowed.
“You want me to put you back in the pocket?”
“Meow!”
Calix gently scooped me up and placed me back into his coat pocket. Having already done it once, I fit in even more comfortably the second time. Nestling in, I confidently raised one paw again.
“Waaaooow!”
If anyone had seen me, they’d have said I looked like a brave general.
Too bad I was a kitten.
Back in the room, as soon as I severed the magic link, Calix took the kitten out of his coat. Now just an ordinary cat, it wandered the room nervously before settling onto a cushion on the floor.
As the tiny kitten drifted off to sleep, I felt arms wrap around me from behind.
Calix hugged me close.
Nestled in his embrace, I reached up to stroke his hair. He buried his face into my shoulder, murmuring:
“Ah… I definitely prefer you in your human form.”
“So you only like me when I’m human?”
I raised an eyebrow. He shook his head.
“No. I’d love you even if you were a bird, or a cat… even if you were a wildflower. But out of all those, I love you most as a human. It’s the form I first met you in.”
Well, fair enough—I didn’t meet him for the first time as a cat.
“Still, I liked it earlier when you were in my pocket.”
“You’re scared of cats, though.”
“But it was you. And I’d always be happy to carry you around in my pocket.”
He added:
“Sometimes I think about it—keeping you in my pocket all the time, so I could watch you every day.”
“That sounds super weird.”
“Don’t you ever think that way too?”
I paused.
I’d never thought about carrying Calix in my pocket.
But tying him up tightly, smacking him a few times, and locking him in a room so he couldn’t cause trouble or see anyone else? I had definitely imagined that more than once.
Upon hearing my answer, Calix looked positively delighted.
“See? I knew it.”
He said it like that nonsense somehow proved a point.
* * *
That night, I couldn’t fall asleep.
That line from the book kept echoing in my head:
“Dragons dream of all worlds and exist simultaneously in the past, present, and future.”
I tossed and turned, haunted by the thought.
“Does that mean the dreams I have at night are echoes from other worlds? Different lives, different versions of people?”
Anxiety scratched at my brain.
“If that’s true…”
A terrifying theory followed.
“What if this world is the dream?”
Just the thought made my skin crawl and blood run cold. But once I had the idea, I couldn’t unthink it.
“What if the real me is asleep, and I’m living inside a dream right now?”
Or worse—what if my previous life was the dream?
I tried to recall the life before this one. Once, it had been so vivid. Now, only fragments remained. Faint traces that only came to me in dreams—traces that disappeared the moment I woke up.
What if those were the dreams? Or… what if this one is?
“Is this the present? The past? Or the future?”
Normally I wouldn’t worry about something so abstract. But I had memories from a previous life. Fragmented, yes—but still real. And that made the question impossible to ignore.
“If this is all just a dream… is there any way to prove otherwise?”
The most basic method came to mind: slap yourself.
I raised a limp hand and smacked my own cheek—but it’s not easy to hit yourself hard. The dull sting vanished in seconds.
“Then…”
With no more hesitation, I cut a long, shallow wound into the back of my hand. Blood welled up instantly.
The pain was sharp and real.
“It’s not a dream.”
It can’t be.
I covered the cut with my other hand, then lifted it—
The wound was completely gone.
“No—no way.”
That was my evidence. I didn’t want it gone.
So I made another cut. Deeper this time. Longer. And on my upper arm, where no one would see it. It’s winter—I’d be covered.
The self-inflicted wound burned.
I knew it was irrational. But I couldn’t stop. I grabbed a nearby handkerchief to stop the bleeding, then burned it to ashes with magic.
As I watched the handkerchief vanish in a spark of flame, I thought:
“What if this moment disappears like that flame?”
If it’s all just a dream—past, present, or future—I’ll never know for sure.
I couldn’t sleep for a long time that night. I didn’t know whether it was because of the pain in my arm… or the fear in my heart.
* * *
Here’s what I’d learned about the maid named Pryn, according to the other maids:
Pryn had been scheduled for vacation during the entire 3-week party at the Imperial Palace. But since the party was paused for a week due to the incident, she was supposed to return to work for the final week.
Which meant—
If I wanted to meet her, I’d have to attend the party during its final week.
The reason I was clinging to Pryn was simple: despite all my efforts snooping around the palace, I hadn’t found much of anything useful.
As soon as I recovered, I’d been transforming into mice, birds, and cats to eavesdrop on the palace staff’s conversations.
That was how I’d spent nearly all my time here.
