Fairy tales for young and old ~ English version

The Last Dragon's Egg

(Storytober - Day 27 - Dragon)

 Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, nestled between emerald hills and shimmering lakes, there stood a grand castle shrouded in mystery. Its towers pierced the clouds, and ivy danced along its ancient walls. In this castle lived a gentle princess named Perenelle, with hair as golden as the dawn and eyes that sparkled like the stars.

The castle had many secrets, but the most hidden of all lay in a dusty corner of the grand library. This library was a labyrinth of towering bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes and scrolls, each containing tales of old, forgotten spells, and forgotten glories.

Among the endless stacks of books, an unassuming egg lay nestled in a cobwebbed nook, its shell glistening with a faint iridescence. It was the last dragon's egg. It had been placed there long ago by a wise sorcerer, who, fearing the end of dragons, hid it where none would think to look. And there it waited, year upon year, for someone to find it.

Princess Perenelle had always felt more at home in the library than in the bustling halls of the castle. With her fingers tracing the spines of ancient tomes, she found comfort in the quiet world of stories and secrets. One winter's evening, while searching for a book of forgotten legends, she stumbled upon the egg. Its smooth surface shone like a polished stone, and she was drawn to it at once, lifting it gently from its bed of dust.

"What is this?" she whispered, cradling it as she would a small bird.

Her gentle fingers brushed away centuries of neglect, revealing its iridescent surface. A sense of wonder filled her heart as she held the egg, feeling a warmth emanate from within.

For days, Perenelle kept the egg with her, curious and enchanted. It warmed slowly in her hands, as if stirring from a deep sleep. Then, one morning, as the first rays of dawn touched the horizon, a faint crackling sound echoed through her chamber. She watched, wide-eyed, as a fissure appeared along the egg's shell, and with a sudden burst, it split open to reveal a tiny dragon, as dark as midnight with eyes that shimmered like molten gold.

The princess was breathless with wonder. "You are real," she murmured, scarcely daring to believe it. "A dragon..."

The little creature nuzzled against her palm, letting out a small, plaintive cry. Perenelle named him Azurite, for his deep-blue scales that seemed to sparkle like the sky before a storm. She hid him away in the library's high tower, where only she ventured, feeding him scraps of meat and teaching him the ancient tongue of dragons that she found in a forgotten scroll.

But secrets are difficult things to keep, and soon whispers spread through the castle of strange cries heard at night and flickers of light seen in the windows of the tower. Fear grew in the hearts of the courtiers and nobles, for dragons had long been thought extinct, and their return was a harbinger of change—and danger.

One night, as Perenelle was tending to Azurite, a shadow fell across the chamber's threshold. It was the king, her father, and his face was grave as he beheld the young dragon.

"Perenelle," he said sternly, "you must know what peril you bring upon this kingdom by harboring such a beast. The council will demand its destruction. They will say it is for the safety of all."

"But, Father," Perenelle pleaded, "he is the last of his kind! How can we be safe if we destroy the last dragon? What will that make us?"

The king hesitated, torn between the fear bred in men's hearts and the love he held for his daughter. At last, he spoke, his voice low. "Hide him, then. Far from here, where no one shall find him. If you are caught, I cannot protect you."

Without delay, Perenelle and Azurite fled under the cover of darkness, the princess wrapping her cloak tightly around the dragon to shield him from prying eyes. They journeyed through deep forests, across wind-swept hills, and over treacherous rivers, until they reached the edge of the world, where a great mountain rose like a sentinel against the sky. There, in a hidden cavern that opened to the sea, Perenelle made a home for Azurite, vowing to keep him safe and secret from the world.

Years passed, and Azurite grew, his wings stretching wide and strong, his fiery breath hot enough to melt stone. He had become a great and noble dragon, wise and loyal, and the bond between him and Perenelle was like that of family.