sky dragon distraction

TAWAN:

It started, as most of my bad ideas do, with desperation and poor impulse control.

I had begged Minister Chakri all morning to take me to the river. Begged. Pleaded. Pulled out every card I had — the lost memories, the sacred location of my "awakening," and even an elaborate theory that exposure to the exact same location might trigger a cosmic flashback.

“Absolutely not,” Chakri said, for the fifth time. The man had the emotional range of a bookshelf and the patience of a stone Buddha.

“Please,” I whined, clutching my robe like a dramatic noblewoman in a tragedy. “If I don’t go, I may never remember who I am! What if I’m a secret war strategist? Or a sacred oracle? Or… a royal horse whisperer? We’ll never know unless we try.”

He stared at me. I stared back. I even tried to make my left eye twitch mysteriously.

Eventually, Minister Chakri gave in with a sigh that said "I'm too old for this" in three different languages.

But he didn’t trust me. Not fully. So I was escorted to the lake with the same level of security one might assign to a high-risk fugitive or a particularly clever goose.

Five guards. Two ministers. A monk. And one extremely suspicious goose (not kidding, it followed us the whole way).

When we arrived, I stopped in my tracks.

The river.

It was the first time I had seen it since I got here—really seen it. I'd been found near this place, unconscious, soaking wet, but I had no memory of it. The stories everyone told me painted it like some sacred, cursed place.

But now I was standing in front of it. And it looked… normal. Quiet. Peaceful. The surface shimmered faintly beneath the late morning sun. But to me, it felt like something ancient was watching.

They wouldn’t let me go near it. Naturally.

“Ten paces back, Your Highness,” Minister Chakri instructed. “Observe. Reflect. No touching the water.”

Like I was going to just observe the magical lake that possibly ripped me from the 21st century and dumped me into a royal fever dream.

I nodded solemnly, folded my hands like a pious prince, and took a step back.

Then I pointed up and screamed, “DRAGON!”

It was beautiful. A full-body performance. Arms outstretched, voice cracking, eyes wide.

Every single person looked skyward.

Fools.

I bolted. Three steps, then five. Sand beneath my feet, the rush of wind, the startled shout of my name behind me.

And then—

Splash.

I hit the water like a sack of royal laundry, limbs flailing, robes tangled. It was colder than I imagined. Darker. Deeper. Everything went quiet. No guards. No shouting. Just the sound of bubbles and my own frantic heartbeat.

And then… I didn’t come up.

Something was wrong. The water swallowed me like it had been waiting. Dragged me down like I owed it money. My limbs felt heavy, my vision blurred. I kicked upward, but my body wasn’t listening. My robe twisted around my legs, pulling me further.

I opened my eyes, heart pounding.

And I saw it.

A figure.

Faint at first. A shimmer, like moonlight underwater. Then clearer. Moving toward me.

It wasn’t swimming. It was gliding. Arms outstretched, face obscured by light and shadow. Not a fish. Not a ghost. Not anything I could name.

It looked familiar.

Arhit?

It was Arhit.

He reached me in seconds. His hands gripped my arms firmly. Even underwater, there was something reassuring about him — something grounding. I wasn’t panicking anymore. Not exactly. I was aware of the weight of my clothes, the pressure in my lungs, the rising panic in my chest… and then his eyes locked with mine.

He nodded — a small gesture. I nodded back. My breath was almost gone.

He hooked one arm around my chest and began kicking. We broke the surface moments later, both gasping. I inhaled sharply, choking on the river water, coughing violently.

Arhit was shouting something to the shore, but I couldn’t hear him over the pounding in my ears. He held me tighter.

“Don’t move too much,” he muttered, his voice half-swallowed by the splash of the water. “Just float. I’ve got you.”

I was floating. Sort of. Half-conscious, half-drenched, still clinging to the idea that maybe the river had tried to let me go home, and I’d just… failed.

“What were you thinking?” Arhit asked sharply as we reached the shallows, his voice trembling between fury and fear.

“I thought… maybe if I jumped in, I’d go back,” I said hoarsely. “Back to my world. Where I’m not wearing silk pajamas and getting whipped by etiquette tutors.”

He scowled, dragging me out of the water and onto the grassy bank. His wet hair clung to his face. “That river nearly killed you. You nearly killed you.”

“But it didn’t,” I said, coughing again. “You were there.”

The guards were already swarming us. Hands reached out. Arhit snapped at them, ordering space, ordering silence. It was the most authoritative I’d ever seen him. He turned back to me, kneeling beside me, his palm pressed lightly against my forehead.

“Still warm. Idiot,” he muttered.

I laughed, even though it made my ribs ache. “Did I at least look cool jumping in?”

“You looked like a possessed duck.”

“Majestic?”

“Chaotic.”

I grinned. “Fair.”

I lay back on the grass, the sky spinning above me. My limbs ached. My lungs burned. But there was something calm about it now. Familiar. I wasn’t sure if it was from being near the river, or from Arhit pulling me out of it.

The others were still talking. The ministers argued. Chakri demanded answers. The monk looked like he might faint. But Arhit stayed next to me.

“You can’t do that again,” he said quietly.

“What if it worked next time?”

He leaned closer, brows furrowed. “And what if it doesn’t?”

I stared at him. The anger in his voice wasn’t just frustration. It was fear. Real fear.

I didn’t know what to say to that.

So I didn’t say anything.

He exhaled sharply. “You’re not alone here, you know.”

“I know.”

Silence.

“…Thank you,” I added, softer this time.

He looked away quickly, muttering something under his breath, cheeks slightly flushed.

They helped me up eventually. I was bundled in dry robes, escorted back to the palace like a half-drowned prince-shaped parcel. But even as I sat wrapped in blankets, sipping hot tea, I kept thinking about that moment underwater — about the shimmering shape I thought was something more than human, and the hand that reached me before everything went black.

Maybe there was no magic in that river.

Or maybe the magic wasn’t the portal.

Maybe it was Arhit.

Still worth it.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***