Esden sat on his throne, pondering furiously. His daughter had asked for the impossible. The improbable! Neither a palace or a planet, but a dragon.
Now how was he to get his hands on that?
The major problem was- well- Galaxia. At some point they made sale of any sentient creature illegal, and with the magical prowess Galaxia withheld, you might as well call Novalia a province of Galaxia already, especially after the war that previous King had.
But we don't talk about that.
Anyway, getting up from his throne, he didn't know what to do. He began pacing, pondering where he would get a dragon, seriously! What was he going to do? His daughter was well behaved, and therefore deserved one, but where could he even-
Wait a minute.
A while back, he heard his personal guard talk about this place, a place that served all but English breakfast, and if that held true, well, he found where his solution lay. Calling for his personal guard, he stared at them intently as they lined themselves up before him in a very serious manner. "You three are to bring me a dragon egg from this store that sells all but English breakfast, whatever that is. Understood?" "Yes Sir!" And saluting thereafter, Esden sent them off to the place that sold all but the wretched british cuisine.
. . .
Emma shuffled as she slid out her fridge, closing the door with her wing, and set the jar of jam in her mouth on a nearby counter. She looked up to find a bird, her roomate, her friend, and her employee, flying in front of her.
"Piskov?" She said, "What's wrong?" The bird landed on the table, breathing heavily. "There-" He took a breath, "There are novalian guards here!" "What?" The pegasi responded, shuffling her wings uncomfortably. "What do they want?" "They said they wanted a dragon egg! Do we even-"
But before Piskov could finish, Emma had already taken flight to the front desk.
. . .
She arrived, staring at the guards, a displeased look on her face. "A dragon egg, huh?" She said, looking intently at those who vaporised her mother. "Yes, the Novalian king requests such for the gifting of his daughter."
Emma chuckled as she landed on the floor, flying no longer. "A dragon? What is he, mad?" The soldiers took offence at that, unsheathing their swords and pointing them at Emma, who stood her ground. "You dare not speak of our king like that! His honour-" "I speak how I wish, thank you." Piskov had by this point arrived and was watching warily.
"And," Emma continued, "It seems you've forgotten where you are. This is Dimonia. Galaxia. Do you know what land you're stepping on? It's not yours, for your knowledge, so if you still want that dragon egg, put that away." The soldiers, though disgruntled they were, did as told, as none of them wished the Dimonian government after them.
"Good." Emma said, smiling. "Now," She cleared her throat, "According to New Galaxian Law, 'The possession of a living and sentient being (one who is able to make decisions without guidance) is constituted as slavery by law, if they are forced to partake in actions against their will, among other reasons. If such is broken, the listed consequences will take effect: Prosecution, no matter where the violator of law may find themselves, and, if owned is abused to the point of hospitalisation, it shall result in damnation and an equal to abuse death penalty. If said prosecuted is part of a government, governors and their equivalents and higher, it shall be war else Solicis Clause not in effect, page three hundred and forty two of Rights of Thee, The People, and Thine."
"...Did you memorise all that?" "Shut up, Piskov. Anyways," Emma said, directing herself toward the guards, "Unless your king is adopting a dragon, you can't have one." "Then so be it. Chip chop, then." The soldiers said, to which Emma scowled.
She left the desk and entered her fridge, which was colder than the arctic during an ice age. Closing the door behind her, she walked onward into the open space, either side of her defined by shelves of frozen goods. She then, out of nowhere, outstretched her wings, and took flight.
The fridge was like a maze. Although the halls and the corridors were wide, that still didn't mean it wasn't confusing. It'd zig zag left and right, leaving no room for confusion. Emma, being the owner of the fridge, had memorised it's almost infinite layout, and was, at this moment, zooming about for the egg.
She reached what she called the hall of 'egg', of which contained Phoenix eggs, Inferni eggs, Enflamious Perodactyl eggs, and the one and only what-she-was-looking-for Humanoid Dragon eggs. She snatched one of them, zoomed out of the fridge, and back to the front desk, setting the egg on the counter.
'That'll be..." She paused for a moment, realising that according to law she couldn't sell someone. "... free." She continued, frowning. "Now go away."
Piskov waved them a rather concerned goodbye whereas Emma set up shop to take flight, an umbrella being their mode of transportation.
The shop drifted off into the sky as the guards walked off, sharing the weight of the egg. Off to Novalia they'd go.
. . .
Esden sat in his lounge, impatient. What was taking the guards so long? He'd only told them to do a single thing, so what on-
Oh dear.
These were patriotic guards.
Patriotism that, in some cases, could mean all out war. The better not have murdered someone in his name, the trouble he'd be in–
He did not want war with Galaxia.
Just then, the door banged open, the three guards he sent coming back, thankfully intact. The dragon egg was in a cart of sorts that they were pulling, its size proving to be immense. It was surrounded by hot coals, and had swirls on it a fine shade of purple.
"Your eminence, we welcome you with your request," One of the guards said, bowing. Esden looked up at the guards, evidently relieved. They had gotten the egg in a lawful manner, leaving no chaos for him to clean up. Dismissing them, he called for his daughter, who came running, likely having been listening in.
"Amyca? Your presence-" "Yes father? Have you-" She took notice of the egg. "Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed, jumping gleefully. "Thank you!" "You're welcome, Amyca. Now you have a..." He paused, remembering the law. "A brother. Yes, that." Amyca brightened more, fascination lining her features.
"A birthday... brother? Oh this is better than I ever imagined! Thank you!" And she ran up to him, hugging him tightly. Esden hugged his daughter back, finding joy in her happiness. But then a thought came to him.
Now how was he to raise a dragon?
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Published by Emblem Publishers with permission from King Esden and his successor, Amyca.
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