Unfamiliar Familiar

As she walked through the dark forest, Myrna's pulse quickened. When she had left her house, the sky had been a clear blue, the sun shining high in the sky. But as soon as she had entered the Jaded Woods, the trees overhead had immediately swallowed all light, leaving her surroundings shrouded in gloom. Maybe going into the forest had been a mistake... Myrna shook her head. This forest was the only place in all of Thirdom where woundwort grew, and it was the last ingredient she needed for her potion. She felt a surge of determination. Once she completed this potion, she was sure the Witch's Academy had to let her in.

Myrna was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice something was following her until it was almost upon her. The snap of a branch breaking directly behind her was enough to make her whirl around, and one look at those glowing yellow eyes had her off in the other direction. Her mind raced, going over every spell she had ever read about, but nothing seemed like it would help in this situation. The despair began to seep in, and she didn't have to look behind her to know that the creature was catching up to her.

Suddenly, she remembered a pouch of flash powder she had picked up from a traveling peddler. She fumbled at the bag at her waist, desperately trying to remember which pocket it was—aha! Scooping out a handful of the dark, gritty powder, she spun on her heel and hurled it at the oncoming beast. She had time to see a flash of light as the tiny particles ignited, but she didn't stop to see its effect; she was off in a new direction.

She ran for as long as she could, bushes and branches whipping past her, scratching her, pulling at her cloak and skirt. Finally, when her lungs began to burn from her labored breathing, and she knew she couldn't run any longer, she stopped. The forest still spun as she looked around, searching for any sign that the creature was still in pursuit. She strained her ears, but the thumping of her heart as it tried frantically to return oxygen to her body was deafening. She crouched on the ground, holding her head in her hands, and began to silently recite the All's Well spell. After several minutes she could feel her heart rate slowing, the ache in her lungs receding. Her strength was returning, her body returning to its natural equilibrium. She looked up from her crouched position, and although her face stung from the tiny scratches the trees had inflicted on her, and her legs ached with exertion, at least she no longer felt like she was actively dying. She took a deep breath and took stock of her situation. She seemed to be safe for the moment; the forest around her was quiet, and though it was as dark as always, she could see no obvious threats. Getting home would be no problem with her homing ring, which would glow brighter when she was facing toward her home. Still, she felt... stupid. Why had she thought it would be a good idea to enter the forest, unaccompanied and unprotected? She could never tell her family about this. Her parents would be furious and might even try to stop her from going to the Witch's Academy. Although it probably wouldn't even matter since she hadn't found the woundwort.

Myrna felt tears pricking at her eyes. She had never felt more like a fool than in this moment. Heaving a heavy sigh, she reached into her pouch to get her healing salve. It wouldn't completely heal the scratches on her face, but it would at least make it so her parents wouldn't notice right away. She found the salved and pried the lid off, using a little too much force; the lid went flying into the brush. Muttering in annoyance, she crouched, squinting in the gloom at the ground. She found the lid a few feet away, but when she reached down to pick it up, she gasped. The lid was nestled in a patch of dark gray plants, small, spiked leaves stretching up the stems, and dark green flowers just beginning to blossom. Woundwort. Again, Myrna felt like crying, but this time from happiness. Her trip wasn't wasted after all.

Heart soaring, Myrna picked a bunch of the herbs, placing them carefully into a designated pocket of her bag. As she reached for a few more stalks, her hand grazed against something smooth and... warm? Gently brushing some of the woundwort aside, she uncovered what looked like a smooth gray stone. But touching it revealed that it was indeed the source of the warmth. Myrna's heart skipped a beat. Could this be a dragon's egg? She hardly dared to hope. Dragon eggs, while not entirely rare, were still hard to find, especially by anyone who wasn't a professional egg hunter. Dragons only laid one egg in their lifetime, dying shortly after. They were usually left by the parent in a secluded location, lying dormant until a human found it and initiated the hatching process. They were sometimes sold by familiar shops, but were usually the most expensive, ranging anywhere from several hundred gold pieces to thousands, depending on color. The shell was usually an accurate depiction of what color the dragon would be when it emerged. Myrna had never heard of a gray dragon before. Had she come across some rare breed? Regardless, she knew she had to take it home. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined having a dragon as a familiar. For the past year, ever since she had decided to try for the Witch's Academy, she had been saving money from odd jobs to buy a familiar. But she knew she would only be able to afford a tabby cat, or maybe a horned toad.