My little Dragon Queen
Alcina cares little for the way her dress, pristine and bespoke, are quickly growing dark with dirt and grime, as she brushes at the egg with her sleeves.
Alcina’s breath seizes when it reveals a darkened, ruby-red jewel, roughly the size of a person’s head.
A dragon egg.
But something about it is undeniably tainted, for it has none of that wondrous luster that Perseus and Orion’s eggs had had.
Instead, even when the grime is brushed away, there is something...dull , about it. Something sallow and tainted and, as indescribable as the quality is, something that feels as though it had been poisoned.
Bab Populer