So, allow me to introduce myself — Merinelteratsin, or simply — Merlin.
The most beautiful golden dragon on the Continent and even in all of Neverland, that is, the Witcher’s world.
Ahem…
At least, I became such after a successful rebirth process.
Which began because I, a loser of sorts, was going to a cosplay festival dressed as Geralt of Rivia.
How much time went into a proper costume, oh yes…
And how much money went into all of it…
I still remember with pain!
And then bam, an expensive jeep at full speed and that’s it, c-crash and a car accident!
Well, at least it wasn’t a truck-san, otherwise I’d have started having certain suspicions…
Which were confirmed in the end anyway.
Because Heaven and Hell, like any other form of afterlife after death, did not come.
Only…
Darkness.
Blackness, to be more precise and less dramatic.
Because I could still feel my own eyes after losing consciousness and waking anew, and I could even blink.
Not thinking of anything better, I simply crawled out, trying to escape the darkness.
At the same time, I felt extremely strange.
As if something was growing from my back where my shoulder blades were, and there were fewer fingers on my hands and feet than needed.
Almost immediately, I bumped into something very hard and started actively kicking, working with my hands and head…
After a few minutes of torment, some slimy wall finally broke, and I instantly squeezed my eyes shut from the light that hit them.
Only later, after blinking, did I discover that I was inside an egg…
And in place of hands, I found golden paws.
With rather large claws on three fingers instead of five.
And practically the first thing I saw in my life besides the ruins of some ancient fortress was…
A huge, mother of its paw, golden dragon.
Though, devilishly beautiful…
That much can’t be denied, yes.
Wha-a-at a stupor I experienced then, as they say, cannot be described in words, nor written with pen.
But one way or another, soon this huge winged lizard began to speak, and I finally understood that this wasn’t some crazy dream, but quite the reality.
The beautiful golden dragon turned out to be my new mother, the dragoness Vivinissalenis…
Or simply, Vivien.
Who immediately began to tell her offspring about some basic things, lying on a huge pile of gold and silver.
At the same time, she clearly knew her offspring possessed a sufficiently developed mind.
But she didn’t suspect that a human had been reborn into it, otherwise the reaction would have been different.
She spoke a language consisting exclusively of roars of varying volume and pitch, however…
Frankly speaking, I didn’t listen much then, my brain struggling and trying to comprehend the undeniable fact that instead of an adult human body, I now had the body of a newborn fantasy reptile, which probably everyone on Earth has heard of.
Oh, and I was also getting out of the egg, yes.
That’s why I didn’t immediately realize that I wasn’t just anywhere, but in the world of The Witcher, the master Andrzej Sapkowski, that is, Slavic fantasy, which I had been a huge fan of for a long time.
After all, you rarely find such good fantasy not about typical Western kingdoms, but about the more familiar Eastern European flavor.
At first, I had to think not about which world I was in, but simply adapt to moving on four legs, conscious tail movement, and controlling two additional limbs on my back.
Oh, how Vivien laughed out loud, watching her offspring faceplant onto the floor…
Like twenty times.
Considering her size — it was stunningly loud!
And the problems with the first flight, which I attempted after rather boring months consisting of eating meat and exploring the ancient fortress where Vivini…
Ugh, Vivien…
had made her lair…
I tried flapping my wings as hard as I could, trying to imitate a bird, but I got nowhere.
Only when my mother-dragon returned to the lair did she explain what was wrong.
And what I should have guessed earlier — dragons fly not only by wings, which simply cannot lift an armored dragon’s body into the air due to pure physics.
What was needed was…
Special magic.
Which was as natural for a dragon, and therefore for me too, to use as flapping those very wings.
Whoa!
I was as happy as a child when I succeeded for the first time…
I must say, the feeling of even a short flight is a wonderful feeling.
It’s not a parachute jump or flying in a plane…
Nooo, the independent sensation of air currents with your own body — that’s pure bliss, compared to which addiction to substances and alcohol doesn’t even come close.
Anyway, after that I flew a lot and often, to my mother’s delight.
Calling her that turned out to be quite simple — after all, she cared for her offspring well enough.
Nursed, watched over, fed…
And taught.
I had a human mother, now I’ll have a dragon one too.
Why not?..
The realization that I ended up not somewhere, but in my beloved Witcher world — came during one of the lessons:
“…many creatures of our world consider themselves the first to appear in it.” Vivien explained to me with a distinct mockery in her eyes.
“Those who are at least a little wiser than their kin consider these greedy shorties, the gnomes, to be such.
But it’s all a lie!” The system of growls, which for me automatically transformed into full-fledged draconic speech, became a little angrier.
The dragoness herself rose to her full considerable height and length, sharply and widely spreading her wings to both sides.
“It’s all brazen, smug lies.
Neither dryads, nor bobolaks, nor vranas…
It is we — dragons, who were the first and true beings of this world!
We ruled over it for millennia, and graciously allowed the small creatures that arose after us to remain…
And they understood this, though they resisted…
But then it happened…
The Conjunction of the Spheres.
After which the true order of things changed.”
“The Conjunction of the Spheres?” I squeezed out, widely opening my draconic eyes.
Because I knew this name.
“I see you already hate this event in advance.” The dragoness misunderstood my surprise, running her claws across the floor and leaving grooves.
“That’s the right feeling, my son.
Because that’s when the Three Worlds converged, disrupting the proper and true order of things.
The elves came…
And humans.
These small, smug creatures, both those and others…
And if the former at least partially understood the true state of affairs due to their rather long lives…
Then the latter…
Living half a century, nimble and smug creatures, placing themselves above all.
I’ve heard they call elves and us arrogant!
Ha!
Following their own expression, they don’t see the log in their own eye, but notice the speck in others instantly!..”
That’s when I realized I wasn’t in some ordinary fantasy world, but in the world of the Continent.
In the body of a relative of Borch Three Jackdaws, in the world of witchers and sorceresses, monsters, Northern Kingdoms and the Southern Empire, a world of prophecies and elves…
And it was with the latter that I first met, when one curious long-eared individual climbed into our lair, which, as it turned out, was an ancient elven fortress, long abandoned.
It was also called, the Fortress of the Old Sea, Caer a’Muirehen if speaking in the elven Elder Speech.
It would have been difficult not to recognize the slightly distorted Kaer Morhen in that, yes.
And that meant I was born before the arrival of the Wolf School Witchers…
But the exact time of my arrival was finally clarified by none other than the unexpected guest from the elven people.
…By then I had grown to sufficient size, resembling a rhinoceros more than a cat, as when I hatched from the egg.
Basking quite nicely in the sun, I was peacefully devouring a caught mountain goat.
For draconic taste buds, recently killed and raw flesh was simply m-m-m!..
Finger-licking good!
In my vast and toothy maw, such meat literally melted on my lips, and considering the vigorous growth of a young dragon, I ate such treats constantly, receiving them from my mother or obtaining them myself.
That’s when my very sharp sense of smell caught a completely unfamiliar scent of a living being.
It smelled of flowers and greenery, but still differed slightly from the smell of that vegetation.
It was more…
Alive, mobile, perhaps?
I don’t know how to describe it in words.
Surprised, I blinked and glanced with my right eye at one of the trees growing in the valley, and with astonishment discovered behind it a childish girl’s figure.
Quite tiny against my background.
And this…
Was my first encounter with someone humanoid.
So I even froze with a piece of meat in my mouth.
My face at that moment was probably stupid to the extreme.
I don’t know what was in the head of the young elf girl at that moment, that she decided to approach a huge winged reptile with a bloodied maw.
Was it courage, or stupidity…
But I couldn’t stand it and addressed her with telepathy, which, while not allowing me to read thoughts, did solve all sorts of language problems:
“Why have you come here, Aen Seidhe?” Even in telepathic speech, my genuine astonishment was reflected, and sincere interest was present, let’s be honest.
“Ah!..” The girl jerked in surprise, hearing my speech in her head.
“I…
Heard that in…
the Fortress of the Old Sea…
There was…
That is, settled…
A dragon…
But not an ordinary one, but a shiny…
Golden…” With wide-open eyes, the little girl began examining my scales, which indeed resembled pure gold in the light.
“That was most likely my mother.” I decided to clarify immediately, finally hiding the impressive piece of meat in my toothy maw.
But the young elf girl, surprisingly, was not frightened by such a rather bloody sight.
“A-a-ah…” The charming-looking girl drawled in surprise, not taking her eyes off my maw several meters from her tiny body.
So much so that I could swallow it in one bite…
Well, or two.
“I see…
But…
It turns out I still saw a golden dragon!
Aelirenn will definitely be jealous!..”
“Aelirenn?..” Memory scratched something noticeably, but I couldn’t recall what exactly right away.
“What’s your name, girl?” My tail involuntarily twitched in different directions.
“A-a-ah…
Oh…
That…
Forgive me, respected golden dragon!” The youngster hastily performed some sort of aristocratic bow-curtsy.
A knixen, I think.
“I didn’t introduce myself…
I am the daughter of the elder…
The Elder and the Knowing Aen Seidhe, Simlas Fina aep Dabair…
My name is Enid an Gleanna.”
My moving tail even froze in place along with the rest of my body.
…Holy shit.
Just holy shit.
Mother of my dragoness…
This little thing — is she really that same Francesca Findabair, who is also Daisy of the Valleys, and who with one smile could make Geralt of Rivia himself shudder?..
Well then.
This will be an extremely interesting acquaintance, oh yes…
So let’s establish contact.
“You’ve interested me, little elf girl.
Tell me, how did you even manage to get here?..”