The Last Dragon Egg
The sun plunged low behind the barbed pinnacles of the Shadowspire Mountains, creating long shaded areas over the thick woods beneath. The breeze was cool, however the air held an evident pressure, as though nature itself was pausing its breathing. In a secret dale, settled somewhere down in the core of the forest, a solitary egg lay settled in a bed of delicate greenery — shining with a luminous sheen, faintly beating with a warm inward light.
It was the last mythical serpent egg, the final straggler following quite a while of trackers, wars, and obliteration. Furthermore, presently, it was in the possession of a youthful traveler named Eryn.
Eryn had not requested this obligation. She had been a vagrant, brought up in a little town at the edge of the woods. A peaceful life, loaded with basic delights and the consistent mood of day to day errands. Yet, when the old sorceress in the town had called her to her cottage one critical evening, everything changed.
“There’s a power mixing,” the sorceress had said, her badly crumpled hands shudder as she passed Eryn a pocket loaded up with old spices. “A power that could either save or destruction every one of us. You should safeguard it, kid. The last mythical beast egg. Try not to allow them to track down it.”
Presently, remaining before the egg, Eryn grasped the heaviness of those words. The egg was not only a remnant of the past — it was the future, the expectation for an option that could be more prominent than the world had found in hundreds of years. In any case, it was likewise an objective. What’s more, the fortune trackers were shutting in.
The main sign came as far off yelling — rough voices conveyed by the breeze, becoming stronger as time passes. Eryn’s heart hustled. She had been planning for this second for quite a long time, however it didn’t make the trepidation any less genuine.
Eryn snatched the egg, experiencing its glow saturate her palms, its weak heartbeat like the thump of a little heart. She looked around, searching for a spot to stow away, yet the backwoods offered no simple shelter. The trackers were talented, persistent, and they understood these woods better than she.
She needed to move.
Dodging low, Eryn ran between the transcending trees, her feet quiet on the delicate earth. She had been educated to explore the backwoods, to move like a shadow, however her heart beat so uproariously in her chest that she could scarcely hear her own strides.
As she adjusted a curve, she slid to a stop. There, rising up out of the trees, were the trackers — three of them, every more threatening than the last. The pioneer, a tall man with a rugged scar running down his face, smiled when he saw her. His eyes glimmered with insatiability, and the long cutting edge tied to his side gleamed with lethal plan.
“Indeed, well,” the scarred man said, his voice thick with entertainment. “The little bird has the egg. Hand it over, young lady, and perhaps we’ll allow you to live.”
Eryn’s fingers fixed around the egg, her heartbeat animating. “You’ll need to kill me first.”
The man laughed hazily, and the other two trackers, each with a bow and a quiver brimming with bolts, moved to flank her. Eryn’s psyche hustled. She didn’t have a lot of time. In the event that she didn’t move quickly, they would take the egg — and her alongside it.
A blaze of development got her attention — a falcon, taking off high over the trees. She realized it was a sign. The sorceress had guaranteed her assistance when the opportunity arrived.
With a solitary, frantic breath, Eryn did the main thing she could imagine. She threw the egg out of sight.
The trackers froze, eyes wide with mistrust. They had anticipated a battle, a pursuit — not this.
The egg lingered palpably, sparkling splendidly now, projecting an ethereal light through the trees. The ground shuddered underneath their feet, and a bizarre, melodic murmur consumed the space. The trackers made a stride back, uncomfortable.
Eryn didn’t stand by. She transformed and rushed into the forest, knowing the second she needed to act was currently. As she ran, she heard the break of branches behind her, trailed by the trackers’ berserk yells. In any case, pressing forward was the only real option. Not at the present time.
The egg must be secured.
Somewhere far off, she saw the flash of something splendid — a figure moving quickly between the trees. The sorceress. Eryn’s heart jumped.
Similarly as she arrived at the clearing, a thunder — low and old — shook the very air around her. The trackers shouted in fear, however it was past the point of no return. From the sky over, a monstrous shadow slid. The first of the winged serpents had come.
The egg was presently not simply an egg. It was a reference point, calling its family.
As the winged serpent arrived with a deafening accident, the trackers dispersed in dread, yet Eryn held fast. The mythical beast, its scales gleaming in the blurring light, stared at her. Briefly, there was quiet — a common perspective between them.
Then, at that point, with a strong beat of its wings, the mythical serpent lifted very high, conveying with it the remainder of the mythical beast’s heritage. The trackers were a distant memory, and the timberland got back to its peaceful state.
Eryn fell to her knees, depleted however feeling better. The last mythical beast egg was protected. Furthermore, with it, the expectation for a reality where mythical beasts could by and by take off through the skies.
Her process was simply starting.
__The End__
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