Writing Prompt Challenge #4: I Wish

Today's writing prompt challenge was provided by Stephen:

One of the eggs was not like the others...

I know Stephen "fairly" well, so I know he's thinking something like 'a duck egg among the chicken eggs,' but I'm thinking something like 'a dragon egg among the Fabergé,' and I think that is very good insight into our marriage 😆.

Let's see where the story goes. I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but stories write themselves. I start out with what I think is a good idea, and then the story says, "Thanks for your help, but I've got this," and then there are words on a page supposedly written by me.

I Wish

I sneak into the wizard's room. I know I am not supposed to be there, but he is away, and I don't know when he will return. He has been gone for five days. He has never been gone that long before, and I have eaten all the bread he left for me.

I know that the wizard keeps food in his room. He locks it away so that I don't eat him out of house and home.

I have never been in his room. Even though I am little, I must keep the house clean. Even though I cannot see the top of the table, I must clear it. Even though I cannot reach the bookshelves, I must dust them.

But the wizard's room is out of bounds.

I open the door a crack and slide in, as if not opening the door all the way will lessen my crime. I can tell right away that the wizard does not clean his room either. There is dust on every surface, piles of clothes, clutter as far as the eye can see. I don't care. I have only one goal:

Eat.

I was given to the wizard a long time ago, when I was even littler, because my parents didn't know what to do with me. They didn't know what to do when I spoke back. they didn't know what to do when I cried.

They didn't know what to do when I wished.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and say, "I wish for food."

Sometimes my wishes work, sometimes they don't. If I am very, very clear, they work better. Today I am too hungry to be clear, and while my mouth says, "I wish for food," my little mind says, "I wish for . . .". I am too little to understand what I really want.

I open my eyes. In front of me I see a basket of eggs.

I love eggs, but I am too little to cook them. I sigh. The wish worked, and it didn't. It gave me the wizard's hidden food, but it is not food I can eat.

I am about to try again when the basket gives a violent shake.

I shriek. The wizard likes monsters. He brings them home and makes them chase me. Who knows what this could be?

The basket shakes again. I am too afraid to move. Eggs topple out, some breaking as they hit the floor, and I cry as I see the growing mess, knowing that I will be punished harshly for causing it to happen.

Another shake. More eggs tumble to reveal. . .something underneath. A sunbeam catches it through the window, causing the thing to glimmer.

Curiosity overtakes me. That was something else my parents didn't know--what to do about me when I was curious. I take a step closer. The thing shakes again, but now I can see that it is a golden egg, scaly and five times the size of the others.

Another shake. A crack appears along the egg's side.

"I wish," I start to say, but I don't know how to finish.

The crack lengthens. A claw shoots out. I take a step back, but I do not leave. Curiosity keeps me in place.

"I wish," I try again, but I still don't know what I want.

The egg shatters. A ball of scales and claws and teeth is revealed, covered in egg slime. I know right away what it is.

Dragon.

Dragons can often be seen flying overhead. Sometimes the king sends men to kill one, but that just makes the rest angry. They come in their dozens and burn whatever they see. They know when one of their number is hurt or captured, even if we do it in secret, they know.

This dragon is just a baby. This dragon is only little.

Like me.

My parents gave me to the wizard. I suspect that the dragon's parents had no say in the matter.

The dragon clambers out of the basket and skitters towards me, unsteady on its feet at first, but soon walking with purpose. With surprising speed, it claws its way up my leg, up my back, and onto my shoulder, where it nestles against my neck.

"What do baby dragons eat?" I wonder, but the answer doesn't matter--if there is no food for me, there is no food for the dragon either.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

A voice from behind sends me scurrying across the wizard's room. I turn to face the speaker, already knowing that it is the wizard himself, furious at my transgression.

The dragon is startled. It buries its claws deeper in my collar as I run.

"I--" There is nothing I can say to appease the wizard.

"That is MY dragon! How dare you hatch it?"

I want to yell that dragons can't be owned. I want to yell that I didn't hatch it, it just hatched on its own. I want to defend myself, desperately, but as usual the words refuse to form on my lips.

The dragon gives a tiny cry, and I remember.

Dragons always find each other.

As the wizard stalks towards me, I scoop the baby into my hands and hold it up to my face. Then, I say, "I wish your parents will find you now."

The dragon cries again. This time it is loud enough to cause the wizard to stumble to a halt, to throw his hands over his ears. In the distance, I hear the familiar sound of powerful wings beating the air. Moments later, I smell smoke.

I smile. I run to the balcony, flinging open the door. I hold the baby up to the sky so that its parents can see it better.

It cries again. An answering roar tells me they are close. I know without turning around that the wizard is right behind me. I consider throwing the baby and hoping it can fly, but then a stream of fire shoots over my head.

I don't turn around. I don't need to look to know what I will see.

An enormous golden dragon, a gigantic version of the tiny creature I hold in my hands, descends until its eyes are level with mine. I hold out the baby on open palms. The baby jumps into the air. For a moment, I think it's tiny wings won't support it, but then it succeeds, its wings flickering as it flits towards its parent, landing on its back.

I wait to be incinerated, like the wizard.

Instead, the dragon stretches one long claw towards me. I don't move. I don't want to. Whatever happens to me now will mean an end to how things were before, and I am ready to accept my fate.

Gently, the dragon grips me in its claw, lifting me into the air. I do not struggle as it flies away with me in tow. I choose instead to admire the view, to watch the dragons of blue and green and red join my captor and fly back towards the mountains in which they live.

"I wish," I try again. Suddenly, my thoughts clear, and I know what I want. I breathe a deep sigh of relief, close my eyes, and say, "I wish for peace."