No one could believe it. A third egg. Everyone was celebrating. There were rumors that the golden dragon god king was originally born from such an event thousands of years ago. To imagine that in their time this would happen again!

In the national tradition mages had set up scrying screens across the nation so the people could watch, for it is too dangerous to be close to a dragon fight, even if they are just hatched. The two normal eggs hatched first. Heaving themselves up, they looked at each other with hate and rage. The third egg moved and their gaze shifted to it. What could only be described as fear crossed their faces. Unbridled fear. The blue dragon started attacking the egg. The people rejoiced more. If the blue dragon was afraid and attacking the egg it must mean it’s a good thing. For it wouldn’t want good things to happen. The red dragon had taken flight high in the sky. It dove at the blue dragon. It wanted to stop it from breaking the egg! More rejoicing echoed. Something must have went wrong, for the red dragon did not hit the blue dragon, but instead crashed into the third egg and black smoke obscured the screens.

After what seemed like an eternity a shape appeared. It was darker than the black smoke. As if light itself refused to shine on the shape of this dragon. In this short time it had grown four times larger than what could have fit into the egg. It’s eyes opened and the darkest purple shown forth. Some smoke cleared and it was holding the blue dragon in its left hand by its neck, and it was withering and writhing. Cheers went up. That must mean a good luck year. What else could it be. The blue dragon was dying. More smoke cleared and the red sack of bones in the black dragon’s right had became visible. So, the red dragon died first. The blue dragon stopped squirming, and fell limp. The black dragon took to the sky, and the nation fell silent.

The mage in charge of the scrying screens zoomed out. Everything that the black smoke touched was wilting and dying. Verdant trees that had survived a hundred fights before were reduced to sticks, animals were falling where they stood. Just a finger of the smoke touching the grass left nothing but bare ground.

A dragon of death had been born. No. Not just a dragon of death. The Dragon God king of death had been born.