Ember passed-out next to the fireplace. Every day the lil guy grows ever more demanding. I've been needing to go to town for supplies, but I neither dare take him, nor leave him here for fear he may burn something he's not supposed to. He nibbles at everything, testing to see if it is of the "yum yum" food type. The best I've been able to do so far are runny egg yolks. He seems content with those, so far. I figure, at some point I will have to introduce him to the world (and visa-versa). My nights... fragmented and increasingly less restful. My nightmares grow ever more colorful and vivid. Interesting point of note... My "gifts" seem to be more potent as of late. Why... I have no idea?

The cool nights hover down here in the valley. They stretch, drawing colder, and darker, and less tender than the previous summer nights before. The warmth from the fire wafts throughout the cabin. Cold spots crawl up the skin. My precious cargo sits by the fireside, shimmering it's opalesent sheen. As the fire tires and putters out, I crawl in to bed pulling my little parcel with me. It felt like hugging an ice block. But even then, I know my warmth is crucial. Each day, etching themselves in to my bones, I stare-off in to the abyss. The world urges-on without me. I eye the "rock" (so obviously not a rock) as if casting a protective aura around it. One tiny ember floats aloft escaping the tired flame sputtering about below it. The ember settles comfortably atop the cool hardness of the shell. The previously frozen [un]hatchling then quivers, as if not knowing whether it had permission to wake-up yet...

Days can be long, and longer with few customers. Some fancy-pants retrieves hand-painted eggshell button and claims scams. Does not know the value of a lost wish, the yearning desire that earnestly sought a humble item. Loud fuss frightened potential coins, stall avoided, business lost, now is a new location required. Merely another day. Maybe should set up near well, but is a competitor. Dilemma. The coins are light and rations low. This one waits until tomorrow for a more satisfactory meal. Today's likely undercooked anyway. Why risk painful rumble? This one has all that is required. Empty bag and silent company comfortably resting on back. But rumbles sound. This one sighs but realizes rumbles are from spine. Curious. Then a sharp crack! "No, no, no!" this one must protest, lifting egg from back to gently set on ground. Cracks form not following egg pattern, inconsistency is amusing but panic is prevalent, "Not now! Not right time. Tomorrow much better, yes?" But emergence is not negotiable. In exploding thunderous cracking, the shell bursts away to reveal new life. A small hatchling dragon remains, inky raven black scales covering his wet hide, cracked traces of glowing embers where he stretches as he reaches out his unsharpened claws and fragile wings to fullest extent. The sounds that escape him are mewls and growls and this one's heart can barely contain. "This one must admit your arrival was expected," voice is kept soft and gentle as hatchling's eyes have yet to open, this one scoops the hatchling up and helps to clean him with scarf, "Who knew it would be this night?" When his face is clean, his eyes open as if barely risen but their bright golden fire lights the darkness. He sees this one and his eyes widen. He climbs and clambers forward gripping the clothes nuzzling himself under this one's chin before bringing his face close to cry out his plea. "Of course, you hatch hungry," this one holds the hatchling in one arm and tightly grips the pouch holding only a few coins.

When one travels as much as this one, the body endures distance and struggle. There is need of relocation and new customers. New opportunities for business and trade. Future doesn't come from nothing. Preparation and effort is required for change and fortune. The path is long and weary but the pack is light. Some food some morsels in case hunger strikes, outfits for weather, compass and knife, and supplies for simple tent. Most important is empty sack slung over shoulder. A relic. A mystery. In some ways, a companion, very silent and motionless companion, but good for business. Dull but entertaining at times, and very much constant. This one idly wonders what it would be to have travel companion. Safer maybe. Livelier. More entertaining. But the life this one lives is not for many. A sign of town "Hatchmere" was accurate prediction as dark silhouettes of hollow buildings seen in the night. This one enters quietly, unnoticed. Not enough coin for room or bed yet but maybe safe place is found. Slipping past windows lit and dark a sudden weight alters balance. The empty bag is heavy and straining as if not so empty. This one swears it was but when hoisting in view the bulge is visible and the weight unmistakable. Something inside! A large stone? Who would drop this? And why in this bag. Inside is no stone. An egg. Warm, pulsing, black in color but an inner red. Natural etchings of shell looked cracked like islands tearing from seams and lava ready to burst or divide. The inner glow pulses with this ones heart and a truth is known. "Mine?" is all this one can ask and not surprisingly no answer is heard. This one barely manages to care for self. For a life to be in her hands, so suddenly, and yet her heart is already in sync. They beat and pulse together. This new ward is precious and much is needed to care for being that will surely grow. The pack is rearranged. Rope and cloth are tied to swaddle the egg and carry on back like new pack. "You are safe," this one whispers, "This one will protect you."

In the hills overlooking the hamlet of Summerset, a tired, quirky, seemingly aloof tangle of a man wanders the ancient ruins. In search of any kind of arcane (or otherwise) mystical magical items, I "fall upon" (as though, I'm nearly did) a seeming unremarkable moss covered stone buried in brush and dirt. Under closer inspection, as I dusted off the muck, a gentle aqua (blue/green) opalesent sheen cast off from the stone. I noticed a kind of thrumming energy emitting from the "stone". It knew I was there, and it was happy to see me, as if a puppy just waking up from it's nap.