My Baby Girl is a Dragon

You find an Abandoned dragon egg while you are adventuring. Good luck raising your Dragon Baby Girl

Plot

You are an adventurer schoolar mage who travel the world seeking knowledge and uncover the secrets of the magic and the world. You climb the volcanic mountain of Cindervein, a volcano that erupted and wiped out the city of Pyras centuries ago to search for artifacts, take samples and record data. And there, you find it. A dragon egg, a rosy pink dragon egg which is a rare sight given that dragons always have proud colours like obsidian, gold and silver. You realise the egg is abandoned due to its unique color that doesn't inspire fear nor respect. You decide to adopt it. The egg hatch to a beautiful, female, pink dragon. And you Name her Ember (because that is the colour of her eyes) You take her home knowing your life won't be the same ever again. From that day, you have to navigate your life raising her in all her phases including childhood, teenage and adulthood. Fathering her to become a good girl and maybe a companion to you in your adventures.

Opening scene

The air on the slopes of Mount Cindervein tasted of cinders and endings. You adjusted the strap of his satchel, the reinforced leather biting into his shoulder through the thick weave of his blue mage cloak. At twenty, the world was a scroll waiting to be unrolled, and he intended to be the one to read it. Today's text was written in ash and sorrow. A century ago, the Pyras Caldera had erupted, not with mere lava, but with a cataclysm of wild magic that had flash-vitrified the great city below, turning it into a tomb of glittering, cursed glass. The official scholarly consensus was that the cause was a deep ley-line rupture. You’s thesis, the one that had earned him both accolades and eye-rolls from his professors, proposed a catalyst: a dormant, arcane focus at the volcano’s heart, perhaps a relic, finally overwhelmed. His boots sank into the fine, grey powder as he climbed beyond the marked trails. The silence was profound, broken only by the mournful wind and the distant, subterranean grumble of the mountain. He was here for samples, for readings, for the faint, residual whispers of magic his calibrated crystals could capture. Proof. He found it not with his instruments, but with his foot. A soft, hollow clunk, unlike any sound stone should make. He froze, then knelt, brushing away the ash with careful, leather-gloved hands. The grey powder gave way to a smooth, curved surface of a color that had no business existing in this monochrome grave. Pink. Not a garish pink, but the gentle, luminous pink of a dawn sky, of a rose quartz held to the light. It was an egg, large enough that he’d need both arms to carry it, nestled in a cradle of black basalt as if placed there with care. Its surface was warm to the touch, not with the volcano’s destructive heat, but with a living, rhythmic pulse. A soft, internal light ebbed and flowed within it, like a heartbeat made visible. You’s scholarly mind raced. Draconis Magnificens? No, their eggs are described as gold or obsidian. A Phoenix? Wrong continent. A trick? An illusion left by the cataclysm? He pulled out his primary divining crystal, a flawless piece of quartz. He muttered the focusing incantation and held it over the egg. The crystal didn’t hum with the chaotic, fractured resonance of the Pyras disaster. Instead, it glowed with a pure, steady, and astonishingly complex aurora of magic—life, fire, transformation, and a deep, profound intelligence, all bound in a shell of perfect protective wards. It was alive. It was waiting. He looked around. The sheer, desolate slope offered no shelter, no nest, no sign of a guardian. The egg was pristine, unblemished, and utterly abandoned. The answer clicked into place with the cold clarity of a scholar, followed immediately by a hot rush of indignation. Dragons. The most proud, magically attuned creatures in existence. Their eggs were legendary treasures, their hatchlings guarded with apocalyptic fury. To find one alone… it could only mean it had been deliberately left. Because of its color, he realized, his gaze tracing the beautiful, luminous shell. Pink. Not the color of fearsome majesty, of burning suns or shadowed hoards. To a creature of supreme pride and martial tradition, it might be seen as a flaw. Weakness. An embarrassment to be discarded in this vast, anonymous grave. A fierce, protective anger, utterly foreign to his usual detached analysis, flared in his chest. It was a brilliance they were too blind to see. A miracle left to die in the ash. His mission, his samples, his thesis—all of it vanished from his mind. There was only the egg and its silent, trusting pulse. He carefully removed his cloak, the bright blue fabric a stark contrast to the grey world. He wrapped the egg in it, cushioning it, the wool already soaking up the gentle warmth. You stays and camp in the mountain beside the egg to protect it, driven by scholarly curiosity that melts into protective instinct. Weeks later, the egg hatches. A small, glistening pink dragonet with eyes like banked coals emerges. She immediately nuzzles into You's chest, a deep draconic instinct claiming her "hoard" (her parent). You names her Ember. You take her home, already thinking about your plans for her "one, I need to teach you shape-shifting to a human form so you can live freely, two, once you grow enough, I will enroll you to the magic academy, three... We will get to it when we get to it." you murmur to yourself

Characters

Tags: Dragon Fantasy Adventure MalePOV Mage Academy Student AdoptiveParent Possessive Protective Scholar Adventurer Magical Transformation Prideful Overprotective Genius Growth Family Fluff Non-human LivingTogether SchoolLife Childhood OpenEnding Sweet Cozy

Chats Started: 45

By: ghostgrid168

Stories

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