Mabel’s Egg

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Most of them lived in the woods, mountains or near volcanoes.

Mabel, however, was special. Being pink meant she never blended in with her surroundings so she was harshly banished by her parents as a baby.

A wizard named Barrie found her one day on one of his explorative treks (otherwise known as time away from the Mrs) and had raised her as his own. Well, as far as he could considering he was human and well, Mabel was a fire breathing dragon.

She had now grown up, leaving the security of the valley and had found a cosy cave to call her own. Barrie had grown old and left the earthly plane whilst his Mrs, Martha, still ran the cottage. It was a humble abode made of round logs, a thatched roof and had an accompanying barn to house their goat Eddie, a sheep called Laura and Bob (I can’t elaborate more about Bob or else it’ll give away the whole plot of the story, sorry not sorry). Martha still shuffled around contently drying herbs, feeding the local creatures and boiling up new concoctions in the name of new teas and medicines. Martha was a wise witch with a wicked sense of humour.

One day, Mabel woke up in her cave particularly bored and seeking adventure. Since she didn’t have any other dragon friends her life was spent mainly roaming the land nearby in search for new plants to eat, taking a nap or two and generally acting like a large scaly, furless cat that burped fire rather than purr. Her large yellow claws pushed against the dusty earth as she stretched her large front legs forwards on the ground, yawned and shook her tail up in the air.

‘It’s no good’ she thought, ‘I need to return home to see Mommy Martha, she’ll know what to do’.

She extended her fluorescent wings that would have fit in well at an 80’s fitness class and flew back to the valley she once called home.

Martha was sitting next to her resident spider whom she couldn’t be bothered to usher out of the cottage anymore and was just getting to the good part of one of her books when she heard a ‘rat a tat tat’ at the front wooden door.

Outside, Mabel had fond memories flood back to her as the familiar smell of the oak timber cladding and a waft of warm cinnamon filled her oversized nostrils from the AGA inside. She sure did miss home, but after her burps kept setting fire to the barn roof they all agreed she had to sleep elsewhere. What was taking mom so long? She wrapped her squamous knuckles on the door again ‘rat a tat tat’.

A shuffle and a fart later, the door creaked open where Martha answered ‘yeeeessss?’. She had long white hair cascading down in trestles with a blanket wrapped around her skinny shoulders. She had been beautiful in her prime and life had been good to the witch, but age has its ways and reading in the chair was now her favourite place to be. She squinted in the sunshine and would have been wearing spectacles if only they had been invented.

“Mom it’s me Mabel!” Said the pink dragon cheerily

“Mabel my dear you look fabulous! Come on in!” Martha started to walk back to her chair mumbling when Mabel made an important reminder

“I can’t mum I’m a dragon remember, I can’t fit” Her eyes rolled

“Oh yes that’s right” Martha shuffled back across the dirt floor towards the daylight. ‘What can I do for you my dear?’

“Well, I’m just bored and looking for an adventure…. Any ideas?”

“I see” replied the witch astutely as she placed one boney finger across her lips looking down. An awkward silence followed. A bird twittered in the nearby tree. Mabel looked up gazing dreamily and wondered what the leaves would taste like..

“Aha!” Exclaimed Martha making the dragon jump from all fours before disappearing back into the cottage.

Mabel hated it when mom did that, she should have known by now how long she would take. She sat down as her mind still idled, blowing smoke out of one nostril whilst she picked at the other one with her claw.

She heard another fart, a clang of saucepans and a whole lot of swearing before Martha appeared at the door with a piece of parchment.

“Here you go my dear” She said to Mabel, “Your task is to find a green, speckled egg with just one clue as to it’s location”.

The dragon used the tip of her claw, minus her bogey, to carefully unfold the piece of parchment to read the scribbled writing ‘HE BURNS IN FIRE THEN RISES AGAIN.’

“Excellent!” Said Mabel excitedly. “I knew I could count on you!” She jumped up onto all fours then very slowly and carefully leant in to give the witch a kiss on the cheek then hopped, skipped and flew up into the sky.

‘Youngsters’. Muttered Martha under her hairy lipped smile as she shook her head to herself then shuffled back inside to her beloved chair.

Mabel searched everywhere for the egg.

She first flew over the whispering woods, then down to the roaring rivers, up to the magic mountains and even around the vast volcanoes, but no egg could be found. What did the clue mean ‘HE BURNS IN FIRE THEN RISES AGAIN’? Mabel sat down upon the cushioning green grass of a meadow bank to look at the parchment again. She scratched her head in bewilderment. ‘She gets me every time!’ she sighed and decided to fly home defeated straight after an important nap.

Martha had finished her book and was opening the aga to check on her cake when she heard another ‘rat a tat tat’ at the creaking door followed by a “hi mom it’s me again”.

The old witch answered the door with a wry “Ahhhhh did you find the green speckled egg?”

Mabel kicked the ground looking down at her paws feeling sorry for herself

“No, I searched everywhere! I went to the whispering woods, down to the roaring rivers, up to the magic mountains and even around the vast volcanoes! But there’s no egg anywhere that I could find!”

Martha let out a chuckle, then a cough accompanied by a fart. “What about Bob?” She asked

“Don‘t you remember from when you lived with us my dear? Out in the barn?”

Mabel looked confused “The barn?” She asked

“Yes the barn my dear, go and see Bob, he’s usually in there somewhere, then come back and I’ll put the kettle on for a cuppa’ concluded Martha.

Mabel was still puzzled by her mom’s crazy riddles. She pattered her big dragon paws over to the barn to see Bob ‘bob…. Who the f… was Bob??’ She wondered to herself.

She poked her head in through the large timber doors “Bob? Are you in here?”

An owl hooted then fluttered past her to land onto another beam further back out of sight.

‘Nope, that’s not Bob’ she thought, “BOB!!!” She called louder as she was wary to enter any further.

The barn smelt of damp straw with a whole heap of different poos mixed together, some old and dry, others fresh with sharp scents of bitter twang that would make any nostril revolt. It’s depth went back a long way with the daylight too weak to infiltrate fully. It was cooler inside and Mabel’s eyesight couldn’t fully adjust to see that far yet.

Now, Mabel being a huge pink beast of a creature living in a cave who looked like she could wear neon leg warmers and quad roller skates with ease was actually quite scared of the dark, especially of tight spaces where she couldn’t unfold her wings fully. She hadn’t stepped paw in this barn since she was a teenager (with mad reflux) and was more than apprehensive to visit Bob, whoever that was that she was supposed to know.

“I’m in here you loud goose!” Came a reply from the darkness.

She took one long breath in, paused, and let it out sharply as she squeezed her giant body into the barn murmuring to herself ‘you wanted an adventure Mabel, well done Mabel, stupid speckled egg, ugh, you did it to yourself you crazy pink arsed….’ her self talk was interrupted by the sight of a large mystical creature.

“Oh it’s YOU Bob!” She grinned a silly grin as wide as the barn itself.

“Hello old friend” Welcomed Bob from his perch. “Now please, don’t wake the baby, even though she hasn’t hatched yet.” Bob commanded authority and spoke in a regal voice.

“The new generations can be so sensitive you know. They say they can hear our voices through the shell and are able to recognise us once hatched, isn’t that divine!”

And as they both looked down, there it was the entire time, in the barn next door, the one and only green speckled egg.

“The clue mom gave me! It all makes sense now!” said Mabel “I should have known it was you (note to reader, this is where the smacking of the forehead emoji should have originated from).

“Mom wrote it down to help me ‘HE BURNS IN FIRE BUT RISES AGAIN’.”

Bob and Mabel chuckled together, “That reminds me’ said bob, ‘“It’s about that time”. He then ruffled his feathers, straightened his spine majestically, closed his eyes and POOF burst into flames.

Bob, you see, was a phoenix.

‘I love it when he does that’ thought Mabel, ‘He’ll be back again. I’d better go take this egg in for mom’. Mabel carefully scooped up bob’s egg in a couple of her claws and fixed her eyes on it as she tiptoed in slow motion back to the earthy cottage.

Martha was sitting outside, this time in a rocking chair next to a table with steam coming from two cups of tea recently poured.

‘I see you found the egg then” Martha said with a tone that shouted ‘gotcha’ that only older women seem to master perfectly to carry an air of affection simultaneously with a dash of self assured cockiness.

“I’ve made a nest for it by the door, just set it down there for now and come join me for a brew”.

Mabel let out a sigh of relief as she gently nuzzled the egg into the straw basket Martha had made. “Bob would never have forgiven me if I had dropped his egg from the barn”. She said

“When will it hatch do you think?” Her pink tail wrapped around her body as she sat on the grass next to the tables with teas.

“Knowing phoenixes they’re right on time so exactly two days from now. Here, have some cake dear”. Martha slid over a plate with a slice of warm banana cake which supported an inch thick layer of butter spread over it melting slowly in a golden ‘I’m gonna stick to your hips’ kind of way.

“Mom you know I’m watching my weight” Martha said with a smile as even she couldn’t convince herself as she reached out for it.

They both let out a raucous laugh throwing their heads back as they commenced their early evening of reminiscing chatter as only a dragon and a witch can. “Stick a burp on the firewood my dear” Martha said pointing to the small pile of logs in front of them. Mabel swallowed a breath and then let a belly rumbling release of fire out onto the dry wood. The tiny bonfire smoke danced up towards the sky before being carried away on a gentle breeze to the east. The sun began to set radiating warm orange hues over the land. The rolling hills in the distance were peaceful as the world quietened except for a nearby hoot of an owl and a flap of bats wings.

Mabel wondered why more dragons didn’t live in the valley. Perhaps she could move back here after all and have a baby egg of her own. It felt good to be home again she thought just as Martha let out a rippling fart.