[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-saya-and-the-dragon":3,"chapter-saya-and-the-dragon-saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-29":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Saya and the Dragon",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1705216,2177,"Chapter 28: Mist in the Mushroom Wood","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-29",29,"\u003Cp>The forest was thick with mist. The kind that clings to your ankles like needy ghosts and turns every tree into a looming stranger. There was no wind. No birdsong. Just the soft squish of moss under bare feet and the distant sound of a confused squirrel trying to mate with a fungus.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I giggled. Not at the squirrel. At everything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m a princess,” I whispered, stroking the side of a tree. “And this is my velvet throne. Moss couture. Fungal fashion week.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tree didn’t respond. Rude.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“—Saya,” came the voice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A deep voice. Dragging through the woods like a velvet boot across gravel. Familiar. Too familiar. Made the hairs on the back of my neck do interpretive dance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Saaayaaaa,” it said again. Longer this time. Like an annoyed parent calling a child who’s smeared goat butter on the good curtains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I turned in a slow, wobbly circle. “Am I being summoned?” I asked a fern. It bowed politely. Such manners.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Whereareyou, you absolute hazard of a woman?” The voice again. Closer. Growlier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Shhh!” I hissed. “You’ll scare the moss. They’re very sensitive.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was a pause. A very long, very judgmental pause.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I swear to the seven smoldering sins of Seebulba,” the Dragon muttered, “if I find you licking mushrooms again—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I didn’tlickthem,” I said, indignant. “Iaskedthem. For permission.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another pause.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course you did.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The trees swayed slightly, or maybe that was me. I reached for a branch. It reached back. We had a moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your trail smells like honeyed socks and regret,” the Dragon’s voice grumbled through the trees. “I can smell you, but Ican’t see you. Are youundersomething?Insidesomething?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I blinked at the bush I was half-cuddling. “I might be…in love with this shrub.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Dragon’s exhale was audible. A low, seismic rumble that shook a few leaves loose from nearby branches.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I should’ve eaten you when I had the chance,” he growled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Too late,” I sang. “You’re emotionally attached.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Emotionally constipated, maybe.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m emotionally naked,” I declared. “And also, technically,actuallynaked.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was a thud behind me. A wingbeat. The rustle of something large and grumpy shoving its way through the underbrush.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then: “Godsdammit, Saya.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I turned slowly. He stood there—or loomed, rather—scales steaming gently in the mist, eyes narrow, nostrils twitching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I smiled, arms outstretched. “Look! I found the meaning of life.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You found a log with mushrooms growing on it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Same thing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stared. Long. Hard. Judging every life choice that had led him here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re high.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Spiritual,” I corrected.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t dignify that with a response. Just stomped closer and snorted a puff of smoke over my head. The warmth hit like a hug from an angry oven.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Better?” he asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I nodded. Then toppled sideways.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Gods,” he muttered, catching me with one talon and hoisting me like a sack of sin. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And you’re lucky I didn’t marry the shrub.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He started walking. Carrying me like laundry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Next time,” he growled, “I’m leaving you with the centaurs.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“They still send me letters,” I mumbled into his chest. “One of them proposed. Very poetic. Lots of hoof metaphors.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Shut up, Saya.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I grinned against his scales. “You missed me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t answer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he didn’t drop me either.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was grumbling again. Full pout. The kind he does when I ruin perfectly good plans by being half-naked, high, and covered in moss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I swear,” he muttered, parting some ferns with his tail, “you dropped everything. Your tunic. Your pouch. Your bloody sense of self-preservation.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I wiggled my toes in the air from where I was draped over his shoulder like a giggling she-goat. “I dropped coins instead of breadcrumbs,” I said proudly. “So I could find my way back.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Towhat?” he snapped. “The fungus orgy you invented under that rotten log?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It was spiritual,” I murmured, licking the sole of one foot. Tasted like forest floor and freedom. “Also… tasty.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“For fuck’s sake, Saya.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I think I was a mushroom in a past life,” I announced. “A proud, fat little toadstool. Purple cap. Lived under a birch. Very popular with forest critters.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fitting,” he muttered. “Some mushrooms are toxic too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned his head, sniffed the wind, muttered something about spoor and squirrel piss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stretched my arms luxuriously, still dangling upside down over his shoulder. “I feel alive. Reborn. Enlightened.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re going to be wearing a skirt made offernsif I can’t find your tunic.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ooooh,” I crooned. “Yes. I like that. Natural fashion. Maybe I’ll stay. Live with the forest folk. Make love to dryads and nymphs.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His wings stiffened. “Forest nymphs aremaniacs, Saya.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“They bathe in moonlight and flay their lovers for pillow talk.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Spicy,” I purred. “Maybe that’s exactly what I need.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Flaying?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Affectionwith consequences.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sighed. The kind of sigh that shifted treetops and carried centuries of regret.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Also,” I added, twirling an imaginary flower in my fingers, “one of them offered to braid my pubes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stopped walking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Turned his head slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I blinked at him, upside down. “She had nimble fingers.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He started walking again, faster now. Muttering about exile and divine punishment and whether it was too late to trade me to a convent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Youarejealous,” I sing-songed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Iamcursed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re just mad no one ever braidedyourpubes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Stop talking.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I bet they’re all wiry and lonely. Like sad little sea serpents with no sense of community.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Shut up, Saya.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I grinned and let my fingers trail over the edge of his scales.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The world was swaying. Warm. Green. Beautiful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I had no tunic, no gold, and moss in places moss had no business being.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But I was safe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>High as a minaret, naked as truth, and carried like the degenerate forest sprite I clearly was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And he still didn’t drop me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Next thing I know, I’m on my knees, arms wrapped around a tree like it’s a lover I deeply regret. My stomach clenched, betrayed me, and I puked my guts out in a violently unpoetic arc.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Urrrgh gods,” I groaned, spitting the aftertaste. “Stupid mushrooms. Stupid nymphs. Stupidme.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another heave. Liquid regret and shame painted the roots.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Stupid, stupid Saya. Stupid girl.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dragon winced, audibly. Even without looking, I could hear the scales shift as he turned his head away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Watch your feet, Saya,” he said gently, like I was a cat hacking up a soul. “You’re kneeling in your own—ugh, too late.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I whimpered. Crawled a few wobbly steps on palms and knees, hands squishing into wet earth, until I found a moss-covered boulder that looked vaguely like a sofa if you squinted and had brain damage. I collapsed on it like a felled log.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everything spun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I curled into myself, cheek pressed to the damp green fuzz, and mumbled, “Please… please tell the trees to stop dancing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“They stopped an hour ago,” he said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then tell them to stop staring.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The trees did not stop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If anything, they startedwaltzing. Elegant bastards.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I buried my face deeper into the moss, ready to cry or pass out or both.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Fucking mushrooms,” I whispered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Above me, somewhere between pity and exasperation, the dragon let out a long sigh. One of those ancient, tired ones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t say anything else.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t have to.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I woke up with the kind of headache usually reserved for cursed relics and noblemen's weddings. My skull was pulsing like a bad drum solo, and my mouth tasted like regret and moss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The stream was nearby. Clear. Sparkling. And cold enough to make my nipples retreat into another dimension.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I dipped a toe in and yelped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Penance,” the dragon deadpanned from his perch above, coiled like a judgmental statue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stuck my tongue out at him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He raised a brow ridge. “Scrub. All of it. I’m not letting you climb on my back with that filth.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I groaned and splashed water on my face, muttering something profane and extremely unladylike. Mud, leaf bits, and what Isincerelyhoped was not nymph glitter clung to my thighs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Andwhatdid we learn?” he asked smugly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Drop dead.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He huffed, smoke curling lazily out of one nostril. “Spoilsport,” I muttered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You could’ve caught pneumonia.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Atruepartner would’ve covered me with a blanket.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I didn’t want to getpukeon it,” he snapped. “That’s mygoodblanket.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I rinsed my arms, glaring at him with every splash. “I was spiritually vulnerable.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You werehigh.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Same thing!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You tried to seduce a squirrel.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It hadkind eyes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rubbed his temple with one talon. “You’re impossible.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I sighed, dunked my head in, came up gasping. “And yet, here I am. Still your problem.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t deny it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just turned slightly so I wouldn’t see the twitch at the corner of his mouth. The one that looked suspiciously like affection.\u003C\u002Fp>",1453,"2026-06-06T14:39:25.900Z",1,"novelbin.me","f7eb48da75cf32e1dc115734afa8c87bb515170c6733f9048bab19e28d87a927","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-30","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-28",228,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fsaya-and-the-dragon-cover.jpg"]