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Chapter 5 - The rock that hatches

  The question had left me paralysed even if for a moment. I blurted out a simple "no." I had a shiny rock, sure, but no dragon egg was in my possession. Or so I thought. I didn't want to let them know about the rock, but I also grew curious. After a bit of thinking, I asked:

  "What even would a dragon egg look like?" My voice was shaky, but it hadn't raised any suspicion.

  The old man replied:

  "A very shiny rock; it might look like that at first glance."

  The woman interrupted:

  "Only a fool would mistake such a priceless item for a rock." She said. "Ah only if I could see one..." she added with a disappointed voice.

  "Now, now, everyone must be quite shocked by that attack. Why don't we enjoy some good food." The old man said, trying to uplift the mood.

  The woman left to get firewood while the old man was butchering some meat. I found this opportunity a good one to ask some questions:

  "Say, Mubarak, how did you learn magic?"

  He continued butchering the meat for a few seconds. The rugged knife in his hands struggled to cut into the hard meat. I handed him my knife in its place, and he started talking:

  "Magic was given to us mortals by the dragons. Their intentions might have been good, yet they weren't all gracious with it."

  He said. Pausing for a moment to turn around and face me. He came closer and shouted:

  "You must not trust any mage. This one included. We have not been given our magic arbitrarily."

  I, questioning his claim, asked:

  "But you are a mage as well. And so is the woman."

  He sighed and answered:

  "The five elements act within every person. Only when one is in disharmony can a mage use that magic. It's not a show of our power; it's a drug that kills away at its caster. Soothing them then and never treating them."

  "What does it mean for the elements to be in disharmony?" I asked, curious.

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  "You will know once the time comes." He answered. He then looked up at the sky and said, "Ah, how the dragons must be watching us with saddened eyes."

  I didn't question him further. Not because I wasn't curious, but because a non-mage like me wouldn't understand it anyway.

  Not long after our chat, the woman returned. She was holding a large amount of firewood, as many as one would expect someone of her size to be able to carry. I wondered if we would camp today as well. Some part of me was eager to head to the capital as soon as possible. If what I had was truly a dragon egg, it would be priceless.

  "Ureltu! Would you go and fetch some water?" she said. She had a nature that enjoyed ordering people around. Showing off her noble background, I thought.

  "There is a river nearby if you follow that path." She added, pointing towards the direction of a narrow path. I agreed, picked up the two flasks she gave me along with the larger waterskin the man was washing with the other day.

  It was a winding, narrow path. The trees were overgrown, and I had to pay great attention not to hit their branches head-on. After about ten minutes of walking, I began to hear water flowing and gently hitting some rocks. The songs of the birds had grown louder when I noticed the rock in my pocket was now warm. I picked it up and felt the warmth even more intensely with my hands. Not only that, but it had also started shining brighter. A yellow light soon burst from the egg, shining brightly against the blue sky, like a new sun born from the ground.

  I tried covering it up with my shirt, but it was too thin. I put the rock on the ground and took off my jacket. I placed it over the rock, but its light shone right through.

  Not knowing what to do, I picked it back up. My hands were shaky, and I wondered if a dragon would truly hatch from this rock, now shining even more brightly. The rock started making creaking noises and the surface was beginning to show cracks. It had been a few minutes when I heard footsteps. The old man was coming, sprinting down the narrow path. Much faster than would be expected of someone his age. He was shouting, yet what he meant to say was not clear.

  I tried to pull out my knife because I feared he might attack me for the egg. But my shaky hands couldn't hold both, and I dropped the knife. As I knelt, trying to grab it back up, he pulled my hand with great strength. Then, pulling out his own knife, he cut the palm of my hand. Amidst the great turmoil, he yelled:

  "Feed it your blood; otherwise, we are as good as dead."

  Everything was shaky. The ground shook under me, and the old man held my hand tightly, ensuring every drop of my blood reached the rock. Its cracks slowly got bigger as I grew more tired. My skin was slowly turning into a lighter shade. I tried to speak, but my voice was faint.

  The old man started chanting, with each word emanating a large amount of mana around him. Every syllable leaving his mouth shook the trees more. The birds had stopped singing, and wyvern howls were audible from a distance.

  As the egg cracked even more, the words of the old man only grew stronger. The blood in my veins was running thin and even holding the egg became a chore. I worried that without the old man's bloodied hands supporting me, I wouldn't be able to hold it out any longer. My eyelids had got heavy and just like my hand, keeping them open slowly became impossible. Just as my eyes were about to close, I saw branch-shaped horns breaking away at the crystal rock. After a few attempts, two yellow eyes appeared, looking deep into my soul. That image was etched into my eyelids and became the last thing I remember from that day.

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