The woman who’d introduced herself as Elizabeth Sewell—Scholar and Explorer of all things forgotten—gestured to the wooden chair in the corner of her tiny office, and I took it.

A rugby-sized object sat on her desk. Draped over it was a crisp, white covering, obscuring any of its details.

“What can you tell me about this?”

The cloth seemed to fall in slow motion, cascading from the object like a delicate sheet of water. Never in my moments had I wished for somebody to pinch me.

Cradled carefully in the rings of a dwarf-iron stand was a dragons egg. A real—whole and very much alive—dragons egg. Iridescent pearl scales encompassed the eggs shell, bending around and spiralling up to meet the sharp point at the top.

A beam of light shone down from the skylight, pouring over the egg like a divine shield, giving it the illusion of an almost perfect halo.

I reached out to touch it, but Elizabeth’s words finally settled. Their meanings burrowed deep into my mind, and I snapped out of my stupor.

Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes away from the egg, clamping my hands between my legs.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, “I don’t— I mean, I don't know anything. Nothing about... That type of stuff.”

The edges of Elizabeth’s lips curled into a disarming smile. Dressed in her ruby red gown, she didn't suit the dusty, decrepit manner of her surroundings, nor the title explorer. She looked more like an elegant princess suppressed to her room to protect her from the harm of the world.

I took note of the tear in the fabric of my green skirt and the stain on my blouse—what a mess.

“Come now, Iya,” Elizabeth tucked a curl of blonde hair behind her ear. “I know that is not true,”

“What do you mean?” I blurted, “I’m not— I mean I’m not— I don’t—” I dug my nails into my palm and closed my eyes, trying to calm the erratic presence of nerves. I took a breath and said, “Why haven't you turned me in?”

“Why would I? Would you rather I did?”

“No, no! But, it's the law,” I checked the door behind me, the skylight. Both appeared secure. “Because I’m a, you know...”

I didn't want to say it out loud. After many years of hiding it, it felt wrong. My father had taught me not to, to keep it hidden, suppress it, and I supposed I now thought it was a bad word, that I was bad.

“It’s alright. You can say it.”

“A dragon,” I said finally. My skin rippled with disgust.

“See, that wasn't so hard. Now,” Elizabeth said, inclining her head. She lightly touched the egg, and her hand appeared to glow. “Will you take the honour of care? I would love to, of course, but as is lore, a dragon will only hatch in the presence and comfort of another dragon. But of course, if you have any objections or any grievances to its displacement from where it was discovered, my team and I are more than happy to return it.”

“How long has it been in stasis?”

“We can only guess, but judging by the surroundings we found it in, it could be anywhere from five hundred to one thousand years old. And in the eyes of the council, that makes it a Great,”

“One that can’t be killed,” I whispered.

I gaped at the egg. At the saviour, the new hope for my dying species. This wonder had survived, suspended in its foetal state, safe from the outside world. It was a miracle, a blessing to all.

“You can’t put it back,” I said sternly, more confident than I felt. “They need to be free.”

Elizabeth grinned. “Oh, how I hoped you would say that! Where will you take it?”

“They need to hatch somewhere sacred,” I said, my mind running over and through all the places I knew. “somewhere special to my people, where they can be remembered.”

“May I join you on your expedition? I’m a good hand at swords and am not opposed to hand to hand combat should the situation arise. I can log data and carry supplies, and I know a little—” Her eyes darted over the hundreds of books stacked on the shelves. “—well, a lot about dragon lore and the different mythical genus. I can be of use, and with my team’s resources at my disposal, anything is possible.”

“Why me?”

“Pardon?”

“Why have you chosen me to—you know—care for the egg?”

Elizabeth twitched uncomfortably, and a pink tinge crept along her flawless pale skin. “To put it bluntly, Iya, we had no one else. With your father gone, you are one of the last dragon's alive on the continent. We have a dragon in our team, Jonah, but unfortunately, over the last year, he has grown weak, his age having caught up with him. We don't want to give him more struggle than we have to.”

I nodded. A weight rested on my shoulders, but it didn't feel uncomfortable or like a burden; instead, it felt like a need—a must to keep my species alive—a revolution against the council.

I nodded again. “I’ll do it.”

Elizabeth jumped to her feet, and despite my legs feeling as if they could collapse, I joined her, my chair scraping out under me. Chewing her lip, she gently lifted the egg from its cradle.

“Guard this with your life,” she said, “understand?”

Warmth curled over my hands, vibrating through my skin. I could feel the subtle thump of a heartbeat, the buzz of new life. It was wonderous.

A sob burst from my throat, and I smiled. “I never thought I'd get this chance,” I looked at Elizabeth, tears a blur away from falling. “Thank you,”

“Thank me when that beauty is alive and free.”