Arkonath

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It was said that it could grant your deepest wish

It could change the past, legend said. It could write the future. It could make dragons fall into and out of love. It could cure the sick and make the old young again. It could bring dragons back from the dead without a scale out of place.

All you had to do was complete the Prismatic Shrine's test. It was an ancient and powerful monument to light, still standing pristine and opal-white while the ruins around it crumbled to dust. No one had heard of a dragon who had gone to find it and had come back alive.

Many assumed the Shrine's trial was one of strength, or of magic, or of cunning. It was not.

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Arkonath came for power. Those in his hometown didn't understand his greatness, refused to listen. One he returned with magic beyond their wildest dreams, they would come around, he would solve all of their problems, and show his father what's what.

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He did not find the shrine alone. As he stepped into its great hall, two others entered the marble polished darkness with him. He paid them no mind, instead making a straight line into the center of the shrine, a pedestal lit by a single beam of light from the ceiling above. As he approached, he saw the shape- eggs, carved out of cloudy crystal. A strange monument indeed, yet they drew his eye, drew him in to their cloudy centers. The three dragons took a moment to just stare, transfixed, into the crystalline orbs.

In just as long a second as it was fleeting, the spell broke. "It's the eggs, then." The fae said, shortly.

"I suppose it is. After all, it is common to plant a wish into an object." The Skydancer added, lowering his magic-sensitive antenna close to the carved nest. "And there is a great deal of magical energy here."

Arkonath said nothing, and then reached out to pick up an egg. It was smooth and cool under his touch, and humming with a rhythmic energy. He saw the fae doing the same, watching the colors swirl into rainbows under their touch.

In the same moment, the light shining through the great prism above them stabbed down, a surge of tingling energy that surprised all three of them. The gentle play of colors became a whirlwind, the soft hum became a song, the perfect eggs began to crack. Arkonath panicked.