First, I felt warmth.

It wasn't fire or anything that burned, it was just… there, surrounding me, like a liquid, clinging to my body like a thick hug. I took a deep breath; the air was scarce but enough to flood me with a strange calm. I could feel it in every part of my being: in my legs, which stretched after being immobile for so long; in my chest, I could feel my lungs expanding and contracting with each breath; and on my back, a strange sensation of weight.

It was strange, warm, but also tight. It was hard to move. I didn't know what this place was, only that I wanted to get out.

I tried to move.

A faint, dry, and resonant crack accompanied the kick I had just delivered. Then another, and then another, each time more insistent. The environment that enclosed me, a hard, curved shell, tensed, cracked, and vibrated under the pressure of my body. The darkness began to disappear, giving way to a very faint, yellowish, and barely perceptible light that passed through my eyelids, filtering around me. With every crack, the warm liquid that had been covering me began to drain away. I breathed deeply; a gulp of fresh air filled my lungs for the first time.

Little by little, almost by instinct, I kept hitting and kicking, trying to escape from wherever I had been trapped. I tried to grab the edges, but they broke under my own weight. Finally, after a couple more kicks, I managed to get out.

Where the hell was I supposedly locked up?

I shook my body, trying to remove the sticky liquid that clung to me. With great care, I opened my eyes; every action seemed to require a great effort, but with each blink, the faint light grew more intense, and the world around me seemed to transition from a diffuse shadow to something more physical and real.

When my eyes finally managed to adapt to the darkness of that place, I began to recognize where I was: it was a cave. The cave was spacious; the damp moss shone with the faint light that filtered through a hole in the ceiling. From that same hole fell a constant thread of crystalline water that formed a small spring on the ground. The sound of the water was soft, repetitive, hypnotic.

I tried to walk, but my limbs barely responded and didn't seem to move at all as my mind intended. With some effort, I managed to get moving and explore the cave. There were bones scattered near one of the walls, perhaps gnawed by predators. Claw marks scored the stone like scars, and next to them, resting on a patch of moss, was an object.

It was a large, smooth, shiny thing, broken at the top. And the liquid inside was the same that was stuck all over my body.

And then, as if struck by lightning, I realized: that was an egg, a giant egg, at least compared to those of other animals.

Have I come out… of that?

I walked as quickly as my weak body allowed me to toward the cave's spring. I could feel a great weight on my back, but I still got close enough to see myself reflected in the crystalline surface. The reflection rippled with the rhythm of the drops falling from the ceiling, showing a blurred figure at first. I leaned closer until my face almost touched the water's surface.

And it was then that I began to see some things more clearly: two small bumps on the forehead, dark skin that gleamed like freshly polished gems. Two deep, golden eyes with horizontal pupils observed me from the reflection, accompanied by a long snout.

I'm… a dragon.

I began to look at my own body, realizing that this body was indeed mine—that, or there was some creature hiding under the spring. It was then that I noticed that weight on my back again.

I turned my head, a swift movement that unbalanced my still-unstable body. I had to do it slowly not to tumble over again. Folded against my back were two small wings, taut and membranous, clinging to my body, slowly stretching, trying to get used to the air.

Further down, a long, thick tail covered in dark scales rested on the ground, still with some of that liquid stuck to it. I tried to move it, and indeed, it was mine.

I stood still, contemplating those extensions of my body.

The wings, the tail, the shape of my limbs ending in sharp claws… None of it matched what, somehow, my mind expected to see in a newborn. What did I expect? I didn't know, but something inside me told me that this was not the norm.

I suddenly froze. I knew I was a dragon… but I didn't know how I could know that word, How did I know any of those words? Ideas? What was "a dragon"? I shouldn't even understand it. I shouldn't be capable of thinking, of reasoning, of associating concepts.

I was just born… Why do I know all this? This is a tail, these are wings, this is a spring…

I backed away, stumbling over my still-clumsy body. The broken shell behind me was irrefutable proof: I had just been born. I had just been born, that much was clear. But my head… it worked too well for someone fresh out of the egg.

I must be some kind of genius or something…

First, I thought it must be some mystical dragon thing, or maybe I was a re-incarnated king, but I had no memories of anything before birth, so nothing seemed to make sense. I knew what moss was. Water. Stone. I understood the concept of falling, of light, of cold. I even knew that wood was flammable without ever having seen it inside that cave. How was that even possible? My head began to ache too much from thinking about it.

My stomach growled.

The sound echoed in the cave as if thunder had burst inside me. A dry pang shot through my abdomen, reminding me that there was something more urgent than solving existential mysteries, something that required 100% of my mental capacity.

I was hungry, too hungry.

A deep rumble surged from my stomach, so intense that it momentarily bent me over. My mouth watered, and I couldn't stop it. I searched for food in the shadows but only found cold stones and wet moss. I instinctively sniffed the air and detected a faint but promising smell. I followed it to a small pile of dry leaves that had fallen into the cave; two mice darted out from underneath.

They fled in terror when they saw a giant creature pouncing on them, trying to devour them with my large snout. And as I ran after them, thanking the cave gods for giving me food, I watched them vanish in a blink through one of the cave's cracks, where I ended up running headfirst into the wall.

I let out a frustrated grunt. It was more than clear that I could have hunted them if my body wasn't so clumsy.

The hunger squeezed harder, as if an invisible hand was crushing my insides. I looked up at the circular hole where the light fell. It was a portal to the outside world. Small, yes, but my body, although clumsy, was flexible and elongated.

Could I fit through there?

And I tried… with all my might.

The first attempt was a humiliating disaster. I dug my claws into the wall but miscalculated the necessary force. One paw slipped on the slick moss. I ended up falling on my side with a dull thud, raising a small cloud of dust and debris. I began to growl, trying not to cry.

The second attempt was worse, a lesson in applied physics. This time, I tried to use my wings as an element of balance or propulsion. I flapped them, opening them completely, revealing the bony structure and the transparent membranes. But as an interesting fact, I discovered, in the worst possible way, that the wings of newborn dragons cannot support their own bodies. As soon as they opened, the added weight, the air resistance, and the uncontrolled movement completely unbalanced me. I fell on my back.

I lay there for a moment, staring at the hole of light, frustration competing with the pang of hunger.

Third attempt. This time, slowly, without rushing, one claw, then the other. No foolishness.

I ascended slowly, digging my claws into the holes and crevices in the wall that small animals and insects used to hide. The hole was a short distance away. With one last methodical push, I stuck my head through the opening and… was blinded.

The sunlight. It wasn't the faint light of the hole, but a golden and silver deluge.

I squeezed my eyelids shut, afraid of having gone blind, regretting having left my quiet and dark cave. I felt a sharp stinging from the overexposure. My pupils, so well-adapted to the darkness, took a painful amount of time to adjust. When they finally succeeded, what I saw was so overwhelming that the hunger stopped in my throat, and I completely forgot that poor, cold cave.

The sky.

A clear, clean blue, vast and deep, crossed by clusters of white clouds that moved with a slow majesty. As much as I knew it would be there, as it always has been, I can't lie, it was such a strange sensation to see it. The air was cold, fresh, cutting, and filled with unknown and complex smells, like the scent of pine, wet earth…

I lowered my gaze and saw a sea of trees stretching to the horizon, an infinity of dark green and brown. Shrubs, moss-covered rocks, damp earth, all intertwined. I then noticed the small dirt paths marked in the grass; I imagined it must be a trail that some animals followed regularly.

I knew they were trails. I knew what kind of trees were in front of me. I knew that this place was a mountain slope at a considerable altitude.

The question returned, more insistent and annoying than ever.

Am I supposed to know all this? Or am I cheating at the game of life?

Every time something new appeared before me—trees, trails, mountains—my mind named it even before I understood it. How easy everything would be if I were a baby; I would just have to be cared for by someone else. But no, I had been granted consciousness when all I wanted was to be given something to eat and rest.

A small noise brought me back to reality.

Near a bush, a movement. Two hares, wild rabbits, darted out from the bushes upon hearing me. Instinct roared.

Before I could even think about it, my paws moved. I ran after them, and despite still being clumsy when moving my body, I was lucky to have caught them by surprise. I stumbled once, then again, but my muscles, new and untrained, were powerful, flexible, and designed for the chase. And after a few strides, I managed to catch one of the hares as I fell into a bush after being unable to stop.

And finally, that hunger that had been tormenting me for my entire brief life calmed down, although with a body like mine, that hare was certainly not going to fill me up much, but for the moment, it was enough.

I walked along the slope, exploring that new world with steps that were already less uncertain. I studied the rocks, the moss, the small insects that were hiding. The sun began its descent, painting the sky with oranges and crimson. The wind grew colder, bringing with it the dark and cold night.

Tiredness suddenly hit me, so hard that I could barely keep my eyes open. I was tired. Very tired. I had emerged from the egg, run, climbed, eaten… too much for one day.

This is my sign to rest.

I looked for shelter. I found a small cluster of rocks that formed a natural hollow, an improvised refuge. Without thinking too much, I curled up there. I coiled my tail around myself, although I found it curious that I didn't seem to be able to feel cold, but I did feel warmth.

I breathed deeply. The smell of damp earth and stone was the smell of safety. The world was vast, unknown, and yes, dangerous.

And I… I didn't know who I was. I knew my species, but not my name. I knew where I was born, but not what I would do now, or where I would go.

Perhaps my mother was looking for me… or perhaps I was abandoned. Perhaps other dragons had mothers or families. I didn't.

But… it was fine. I could manage. It didn't seem to bother me too much either.

Tomorrow… tomorrow I'll look for more food… I have to explore the mountain more.

As my eyelids closed, the warmth of my tail and mental exhaustion dragged me away. I only kept thinking about the food I would eat tomorrow.