The shell split, and pieces floated into the air before disintegrating into glittering dust.
Catty opened her eyes.
A little dragon lay in her palms. A pink dragon.
His scales shimmered, catching the light, and his tiny wings moved, trying to get used to being free. The dragon blinked, and his big, bright eyes met hers. His gaze was filled with wonder.
Catty felt a lump rise in her throat, her heart swelling with emotions she wasn't prepared for. This was what everything had led to—all the danger, all the running. This tiny creature in her hands was the key to it all.
The dragon held her fingers hard with his small claws as it tried to steady. Looking up at her with a face so endearing it reminded her of a gecko—wide-eyed, curious, and fragile. The most mischievous smile appeared on his snout. It was so pure and innocent that it looked as if the creature was already pleased for making him into the world.
Catty's heart melted. "Hey there," she whispered, barely more than a breath. Her voice felt shaky as she feared it might scare the dragon away, like this moment could shatter if she moved too fast.
The dragon blinked again, then nuzzled its tiny head into her palm. A laugh escaped her, light and shaky.
"Well, aren't you the cutest little troublemaker?"
Catty adjusted the dragon in her arms, her fingers brushing over its smooth, iridescent scales. The soft pink hue shimmered under the light, catching her off guard every time she looked at it.
"Is it just me, or… are dragons supposed to be pink?" Her brow furrowed as she studied the tiny creature. "I mean, I've never heard of a pink dragon before."
"And what do you think the dragon from the prophecy should look like, hmm?" The Lord of Dragons' deep chuckle echoed through the cavern, his massive wings shifting slightly. "The one tied to a girl destined to change everything?"
Catty felt uncertainty. "Wait… so, this is normal? Or, like, special?"
"Normal? No. Special? Absolutely. Dragons come in all forms, darling. This pink hue—it's a sign. A sign that what you two are about to do together is something no one has seen before."
Deep down, Catty couldn't help feeling a strange sense of pride. This pink dragon was hers—and no one else's.
The girl cradled the little dragon against her chest, feeling the warmth of its small body. Its wings twitched, and it shifted again like it couldn't quite settle. She could barely believe she was holding a dragon—let alone that she was supposed to care for it.
"So… what now?" Her voice came out uncertain, her eyes flicking toward the Lord of Dragons. "How do I make sure he's okay?"
The massive dragon let out a long, deep rumble, his golden eyes watching her with a mixture of amusement and wisdom.
"What do you think you do?" he replied, his voice carrying a playful edge. "You care for him. Keep him warm, protect him, and most importantly—don't let him get into too much trouble. Simple enough, right?"
Catty raised an eyebrow. "Trouble? He's tiny! What kind of trouble can he get into?"
"Tiny?" the Lord of Dragons chuckled, echoing through the cavern like rolling thunder. "For now, maybe. But even the smallest dragon has the instincts of a giant. He'll be figuring out his place in the world. Give him space to claim… Anywhere he can feel like it's his."
Catty looked down at the little dragon lying in her arms. She couldn't help but smile at the idea of him staking out his little territory.
"He already seems like he's full of energy."
"And that's just the beginning," the Lord of Dragons said. "He doesn't have much fire yet, but when he does…" He paused, eyes glinting. "Let's just say you'll want to keep a bucket of water nearby. They have a habit of sneezing flames when they're excited—or frustrated."
"Flames?" Catty grimaced. "Great… just what I need. A baby dragon that sets things on fire when he's in a mood."
The Lord of Dragons grinned a playful, toothy smile. "Exactly. But don't worry—he'll learn control over time. You'll guide him through it and help him find balance. His powers will come in stages, just like his wings. They're small now, but soon enough, they'll stretch wide, and he'll soar. But don't rush him. Flight will come when he's ready—his wings will know."
Catty could feel the responsibility those words carried. She glanced at the pink dragon again, noticing how he kept gripping her fingers with his small claws as if trying to get comfortable.
The dragon continued, "Be patient, for when he flies, your fate will also take flight. Let him explore this in his own way. Just be there when he needs a steady hand."
"Does he…" She hesitated, glancing back at the Lord of Dragons. "Does he understand me? Like, really understand?"
The Lord of Dragons' expression softened. "Dragons feel more than most think. They understand emotions before words. He'll sense your moods, your fears, your hopes. If you're calm, he'll be calm. If you're afraid, he'll know it too."
"Wait… so he's like, reading my mind or something? That's a little creepy."
"He'll know your heart as well as you do, perhaps even better. Guard your thoughts, but trust the connection—it will grow stronger with every challenge you face together."
The dragon became more serious now, "Some forces will challenge you, not just to test your strength, but to challenge your bond. They'll try to sever what you share. But remember this: a dragon's trust, once earned, is unbreakable. But if lost… it's lost forever."
Catty's throat tightened. "And what if I… mess up?" she asked quietly.
The Lord of Dragons let out a low rumble. "You won't always have a clear path. There will be times when you question everything—whether you're ready, whether he is—but those are the moments when the bond is strongest. Trust it."
Catty nodded, her mind racing between tenderness towards the kid and the weight of the upcoming.
The girl glanced down at the dragon, who had nuzzled closer to her, his tiny wings folding neatly as he settled in her arms. He felt so small, but in his eyes, there was a spark of something much bigger than his size.
She couldn't help but smile softly. "Well, at least he's cute."
The Lord of Dragons chuckled again, "Cute for now. Just wait—he'll be casting shadows over entire villages before you know it."
Catty groaned playfully, but deep down, she felt the gravity of it all. Her mind buzzed with questions—how was she supposed to take care of a dragon?
"Great," the girl muttered under her breath, glancing at the dragon, who looked perfectly innocent. "So, how do I feed him? He's not gonna eat… like, rats or something, right?"
The Lord of Dragons let out a huff that sounded almost like a snort. "Rats? No, no. He'll need something better than that." His gaze settled on her bracelet, its glow still pulsing gently. "You've got plenty of mana in that bracelet, right? Feed him with your magic. He'll thrive on it for now."
"My mana?" Catty blinked. "How does that even work?"
"You'll figure it out. Just focus. The bond between you two is strong—you'll feel when he's hungry, and trust me, he won't be shy about letting you know." His tone suddenly became more serious. "He needs your mana for now, but as he grows… well, he'll find his food himself."
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The way the Lord of Dragons said it sent a shiver down her spine.
"What will he eat?" she asked quickly.
"It's better for you not to know."
"Why?!"
The Lord of Dragons settled back into his perch, his wings folding with a loud snap. "Don't worry. That's a question for later."
His gaze softened slightly. "Right now, just focus on keeping him safe. He'll look to you for everything—protection, warmth, trust. And believe me, darling, dragons don't give their trust easily. If you break it… well, let's just say you don't want to find out what happens."
Catty swallowed, glancing down at the baby dragon, who yawned and stretched in her arms, completely unaware of the weight of responsibility pressing on her. "No pressure, right?"
The Lord of Dragons chuckled again, "Oh, plenty of pressure, but you'll manage. After all, you're the Child of Dragons, aren't you?"
"Yeah, yeah… I'm starting to feel the 'child' part a little too much right now." Catty replied, her voice wavered.
The cavern was quiet now, and the little dragon nestled against the girl's chest was finally calm. She glanced up at the Lord of Dragons, his enormous form casting a shadow across the walls, his golden eyes gleaming with something she couldn't quite read. Pride? Amusement? Maybe a bit of both.
"Well, look at you," the dragon said. "Already holding the future in your arms. Not bad for someone who didn't know what to do five minutes ago."
"Well, it's not like there was a manual for this, you know."
"There never is. But you don't need one. You've got fire—same as him," he nodded at the little dragon. "And when the time comes, you'll figure it out. You always do."
The girl blinked, a bit surprised at the compliment.
The Lord of Dragons grinned, baring his sharp teeth. "I've got one last thing for you."
He raised his massive head and gestured with a nod toward the cavern walls. Crystals, shimmering in different hues and sizes, covered every surface.
"Pick one," the dragon said. "A gift. When you're in trouble, it'll help you. Call it… insurance."
Catty's eyes widened as she took in the cavern, the walls and floor glittering like a treasure hoard. Crystals of all shapes and colors—some glowing faintly, others pulsing with energy—stretched before her.
The girl stepped closer. They all looked magical, powerful—exactly the kind of thing a girl destined to change the world should choose.
"Choose wisely," the dragon continued. "One of these can help you when things get rough. It will be your lifeline."
Catty eyed the crystals, each more dazzling than the last. She shook her head doubtfully. When her gaze moved across the ground, the girl spotted a simple pebble—dull and gray—lying there at the edge of the scattered crystals, almost overlooked.
Her lips twitched into a smirk, and without hesitation, she bent down and picked up the pebble. It was rough in her hand, solid and completely ordinary.
But it looked as if it had been waiting for her all along.
"This one," Catty said, holding it up.
The Lord of Dragons blinked, staring at the pebble, then let out a deep, booming laugh that echoed through the cavern.
"Of course you would, a girl destined to change everything!" he said, his voice shaking with amusement. "These crystals could power kingdoms, and you pick a pebble that looks like it fell out of someone's boot!"
Catty shrugged, grinning. "Hey, you said pick one. This feels right."
"Wise beyond your years, darling," his eyes gleamed with approval. "Sometimes, the simplest things carry the most power. Keep it close. When the time comes, you'll know what to do."
Catty slipped the pebble into her pocket. She glanced up at the Lord of Dragons, who watched her with something like pride in his eyes.
"Thanks," she said quietly. "For everything."
He lowered his massive head, locking eyes with hers. "No need for thanks. Get moving before I change my mind and keep you here to show you what real trouble looks like!"
The Lord of Dragons shifted his gaze toward the far end of the cavern, where a narrow tunnel stretched into the darkness. "There," he said, nodding toward it. "That's your way out. It's dark and won't be easy, but you'll make it through."
Catty followed his gaze, her stomach tightening as she looked at the pitch-black entrance. "Are you sure there's, you know, an exit at the end of that?"
"You'll find out soon enough, won't you? Just trust your gut—and watch for what your head tries to forget. Courage, girl. You've got it."
Catty gave him a mock salute and turned toward the tunnel, the little dragon warm against her chest, the pebble tucked in her pocket, and the weight of her future feeling just a little lighter.
The tunnel swallowed the girl the moment she stepped inside. The light from the cavern faded behind her, swallowed by the dark. The warmth of the cavern disappeared, replaced by a biting chill that crept along her skin. Catty hugged the little dragon closer.
The further she walked, the darker it became until the blackness pressed in on her from all sides. The air was heavy and damp, clinging to her skin like a second layer.
The girl could barely see the outlines of the tunnel walls. Shadows twisted at the edge of her vision, curling like smoke. At first, she told herself it was just her mind playing tricks.
'It's just shadows,' the girl thought. 'Nothing's really there.' But the feeling gnawed at her—something was watching, waiting in the dark. She was walking in the middle of the tunnel, refusing to let the shapes creeping along the walls get to her.
The little dragon stirred, sensing her fear. Catty could feel his tiny claws tighten around her arm, his wings fluttering. She took a shaky breath and pushed forward, her legs heavy with dread. The shadows didn't matter, she told herself. They couldn't stop her.
The shapes kept moving, morphing into ominous silhouettes. Faces without features, hands reaching out only to vanish as she tried to focus on them. It was as if the shadows were mocking her, daring her to look closer, to confront whatever hid in the dark.
Her steps slowed, and her breathing grew louder, echoing off the narrow walls. Catty tightened her grip on the little dragon and forced herself to keep moving.
The tunnel stretched on, and with every step, the shapes grew more defined. They were waiting for the girl to recognize them, to remember something she'd buried deep. She shook her head, trying to clear it, but the unease lingered. Catty had to keep moving, no matter what the darkness tried to show her.
The tunnel's darkness seemed to pulse with her heartbeat, thick and suffocating, but then—something shifted. A faint light flickered ahead, soft and hazy, and Catty stepped forward, gripping the little dragon tighter.
Suddenly, the tunnel walls dissolved, fading into an open field bathed in warm sunlight. The sky was a clear blue, and a small girl, no more than three, ran through the grass, her laughter bright and carefree.
Catty's chest tightened. There was something very dear, painfully familiar about how contagiously the girl laughed and how cutely she ran. This yellow dress, this large bow that looked like a butterfly... It was a mirror from a lifetime ago, and Catty remembered.
That girl... it was her.
The child giggled and darted across the field. Two figures ran after her—a man and a woman, their faces blurred.
Catty stopped and watched from the darkness, her heart aching in a way she hadn't expected. She didn't know these people—at least, not in her present life.
Something deep within her stirred, a sensation she couldn't fully grasp, like a distant echo from a life she had forgotten. A quiet voice rose from the depths of her heart that felt foreign and familiar. It whispered a truth she had never dared to hope for—these were her parents. The realization hit her like a wave, overwhelming and bittersweet, filling the empty spaces inside her that she hadn't even known was there.
The man scooped up the small child, hoisting her onto his shoulders as she squealed in delight.
Catty's breath hitched. From a time she didn't even remember, the sound of her own laughter echoed through the tunnel. The woman smiled warmly, reaching up to hold the child's hand, the three of them basking in the joy of the moment.
As Catty watched, the edges of the scene began to blur, the warmth draining from the air. The sun dimmed, shadows creeping back in. The happiness felt fragile, like something that had been stolen from her long ago. The figures started to fade, the laughter echoing farther and farther away.
"No…" Catty whispered, stepping toward the vision, her hand reaching out as if she could grasp the memory and pull it back to her. But her fingers passed through the air like smoke.
Before the girl could process it, the scene shifted violently.
A grand chamber appeared before her, engulfed in chaos. Catty found herself as a small child again, standing amidst the turmoil. Her parents stood at the center, side by side, surrounded by people locked in a heated argument. The tension hung heavy in the air. Her mother's eyes darted around until they landed on young Catty. Her father stood tall beside them, his expression fierce, ready for whatever fight was coming.
Dark figures attacked without warning. Her parents moved quickly, defending themselves and their daughter with magic she had never seen before. Her father deflected blows with bursts of light while her mother cast protective spells, trying to hold the line.
Catty stood frozen. Memories came flooding back to her—confusion and fear that she felt being a child. She felt the vibrations of the magic, the heat of the battle swirling around her. Her father blocked an attack meant for her mother, his body crumpling under the strong hit. Her mother's scream echoed through the chamber, and she turned toward young Catty with tears in her eyes.
The shadows closed in, and with a final look toward her daughter, her mother threw up a shield, her magic encircling Catty like a cocoon.
The last thing Catty saw was her mother's hand reaching out before everything went dark.
The memory slammed into her like a tidal wave. The girl could barely breathe as the weight of what she saw. Her parents had died protecting her. Everything they had done in those final moments was for her.
Catty didn't know what to do with it all—the knowledge, the grief, the guilt. Her legs trembled, but she forced herself to stay standing.
And then, she saw him. The Master.
He stood at the edge of the chaos, watching. His face was calm, too quiet for the madness around him. He hadn't lifted a finger to help. He hadn't intervened. His eyes locked with hers for the briefest moment, and in that instant, she knew—he had been there all along, playing a part in whatever had led to this moment. But what role had he played? Why had he just stood there, watching it all unfold?
The vision shattered, and darkness returned to the tunnel. The girl's heart pounding in her ears, she could still feel the echoes of seen: her parents' sacrifice, the Master's gaze burning into her mind.
She stood frozen for a moment, clutching the little dragon tightly. It wasn't over.
Not yet.