Nails scraped against the tender outer shell, attempting to claw free from the darkness. A faint, high-pitched squeak of life echoed through the prince's bed chamber. Yu Qiang’s eyes fluttered open, waking from his uncomfortable sleep on the cold wooden floor, a makeshift pillow of folded blankets beneath his head. He cradled the dragon egg, feeling its warmth through the thick shell. Each little movement inside vibrated against his hands, sending a thrill up his spine.
The chamber was dimly lit by the rising sun. Yu Qiang sat up, his heart racing in his chest. He had dreamed of this moment since he first found the egg hidden deep in the caves of Mount Wulin. No one believed him then, not the advisors, not even his father, the emperor. But now, the proof was right here in his hands—alive and kicking. Literally.
A dragon hatching was a rare sight. Scholars and noblemen alike burned for the opportunity to watch, but the birth was a sacred event. Yu Qiang refused their requests.
Another crack splintered across the eggs surface. He held his breath, observing as the tiny dragon within struggled itself free. Its movements were weak and slow, pushing the shell bit by bit to create an opening big enough to slip through.
“You’re almost there, little one,” Yu Qiang whispered, afraid to hurt the dragon's fragile ears.
A brown snout poked through the shell, inspecting its new world with a few sniffs. Satisfied with its findings, the little dragon wriggled free, its tiny, delicate body trembling but resilient. The dragon's scales were dark brown, like tree bark. It blinked its large, golden eyes, surveying its surroundings with wonder. Her stubby legs wobbled against his knee, adjusting to the newfound space.
The dragon let out a delighted squeak, reaching for him instinctively. Yu Qiang lifted the newborn dragon, cradling it with the utmost care. Her body fit perfectly in his hands, and he could feel her heartbeat racing, a mirror of his own.
Yu Qiang watched with careful eyes. This tiny creature was now his to protect.
“You’re beautiful,” Yu Qiang whispered, stroking the scales on the creature's back. “I will name you Meilin.”
Meilin squeaked with joy, nipping at Yu Qiang’s thumb. He was thankful her teeth wouldn't grow in for a few weeks. The newborn yawned, nuzzling into the prince's palms. He carefully set her in his lap and watched her drift off to sleep. Her breaths were slow and steady, matching Yu Qiang’s.
A gentle smile touched Yu Qiang’s lips as he carefully adjusted his position, ensuring he did not disturb the sleeping dragon. He thought of the challenges they would face together, the expectations for greatness no creature deserved to be held to. For now, he allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection and joy.
“Sleep well, little Meilin.”
Three sets of footsteps echoed against the chipped tile floor of Pensly Junior High, moving much faster than the hall monitor would allow. The trio navigated the maze of hallways with the ease of seasoned students, passing the cafeteria and gymnasium in a blur before arriving at their destination: Principal Poggins' office, widely considered the dullest place in the entire school.
Julia, the tallest and the only eighth grader in the group, reached for the doorknob. Her fingers twitched on the cool metal, but the door remained shut.
“Come on, I can’t wait any longer,” pleaded Victor, bouncing on the balls of his feet with the impatience of someone desperate to leave. Over winter break, his once smooth, tan skin had become rough, dotted with red bumps.
Julia swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. She was no better than her anxious vice president beside her. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the doorknob, trying to steady her nerves. In the distance, the sound of the janitor’s mop striking the floor echoed faintly.
A smaller hand rested on hers—an unexpected gesture of reassurance—until Julia noticed the door swinging open. She let out a startled yelp and turned to the culprit, eyes wide.
Landry shrugged, batting her eyes innocently.
“You’re the student council president, Jules. Have more grit,” the blonde said, her voice carrying the commanding tone reserved for Pensly Junior High’s cheer captain.
Landry stepped through the doorway first, followed by Victor and a trembling Julia. Julia had never been summoned to the principal's office on a whim before; their meetings were always scheduled. And why was Landry here? She wasn’t even part of the student council.
They must be in trouble. It was the only explanation Julia could think of, the only reason why all three of them would be here. She picked at the skin under her fingernails, biting her lip. Any second now, they’d be sitting in front of Principal Poggins’ desk, getting scolded for who knows what.
“Look, I didn’t ask to be picked. None of us did,” Victor muttered, his fingers trembling against the hem of his shirt. “But we just have to go in there and hope Principal Poggins isn’t mad at us.”
“Huh?” Julia murmured, unsure of what he meant.
“Are you guys serious? You don’t remember?” Landry asked, hands on her hips as she glanced between Julia and Victor, gauging their reactions. It was clear neither of them had a clue. “We’re here to discuss ideas for the spring dance. We made the PowerPoint last week! Ring a bell?”
Julia’s eyes widened in realization, her mind flooding with memories of brainstorming sessions filled with themes like “Under the Sea” and “Masquerade Ball.” How could she have forgotten?
Landry huffed and rolled her eyes, stepping boldly into Principal Poggins' office. Julia and Victor exchanged nervous glances before following, unprepared but with no other choice.
The chill of winter’s breath draws near,
It is sharp as the man’s own blade.
Silver gleams from reflecting snow,
Delicate as a harp to the untrained ear.
A beautiful weapon if just for show,
Yet lethal in the hands of a man.
The golden hilt is cold to the touch,
But the man would never dare let it go.
The wolf bares its teeth,
Sharper than any sword.
It growls, starting to retreat.
The man deserves no relief.
Brothers and sisters lost,
All by the hand of one man.
Their bodies lie still in snow,
And the wolf’s eyes turned to frost.
Fury triumphs as reason succumbs.
The wolf's fangs pierce the tender flesh.
The man howls, striking with metal's might.
Two lives end, as silence hums.