The Egg That Was Not an Egg

The Egg That Was Not an Egg

Fire Mountain smoked.

A whisper of ash.

A gust of sulphur.

A cloud of molten breath curled through the underbelly of the world, spiralling down tunnels of basalt and bone, past runes of forgotten tech etched into obsidian walls slick with geothermal condensation.

Quaraun’s long, rabbitty ears twitched.

Tinkling.

The dainty silver chains that connected his piercings quivered with each nervous flick. A single torch hissed blue plasma light. All around them: heat.

Echo.

Darkness.

BoomFuzzy’s bootsteps boomed.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Molten shadow cloaked him. Steam veiled his hellish silhouette. He was not a man. Not any more. Not for centuries. Cloaked in purple tartan, black hakama, and gold-plated bone armour, he was a vision from nightmares: horned skull crowned in dreadlocks, ivory fangs, silver eyes glowing in a face half pony, half corpse. The Lich King of Fire Mountain.

“Ah dinnae like it when ya wander off like this, love,” BoomFuzzy snarled. “What the bloody Hell are ya hidin’?”

Quaraun stood still.

Still.

So very still.

His silken robes shimmered, pink and glittery, and utterly unsuited for spelunking, and clutched in his mangled, bionic-gloved hands was the source of his secretive expedition.

A glowing egg.

Dragon.

Glowing.

Golden.

Chrome.

Egg.

It pulsed with warm life. The soul of a creature long thought lost to fire, frost, and extinction. The last of the cryo-preserved embryos hidden in the lower sanctum of Nord’s hoard.

“You stole that,” GhoulSpawn whispered, his voice like a dropped wrench in a silent lab. “From Nord. You seriously, like, jacked an egg from the DracoLich, man. That’s… that’s not just a death wish, that’s necro-suicidal genius!”

The cavern trembled.

A wind howled that did not come from air.

Quaraun did not answer.

He simply stared at the egg.

Mesmerised.

Hypnotised.

Enchanted.

His nose rings trembled. His foot was sore and ached.

Ached and sore. His hands hurt. Everything hurt.

But this… this was hope.

Behind him, from the vault of treasure and bones, something moved.

No.

Nothing moved.

For this was Nord.

And Nord was not alive.

Nord did not breathe.

Did not beat.

Did not blink.

But Nord watched.

The DracoLich’s massive skeletal form loomed atop the treasure heap. Skull aglow with necro-light, wings of withered skin stretched wide, rattling in the geothermal wind. It opened its maw. Rows of teeth like obsidian daggers. The stench of dead time and metal rot.

GhoulSpawn let out a terrified yelp and bolted behind a pillar.

BoomFuzzy turned, growled, cracked his knuckles, and did not cower.

“Ya want tae come for us?” the Unicorn Lich snarled, bloodlust foaming from his fangs. “Try it, ya bony fuckin’ worm. I dare ya. Ya ken what I am. I was there when your kind died.”

The DracoLich hissed. Flames dripped from its sockets. Its clawed hand curled around a vault door.

It did not attack.

It watched. Then sank back into shadow.

Respect. Or something deeper. A silent understanding between two deathless things.

Quaraun clutched the egg to his chest.

“I shall raise it,” the Elf murmured softly. “I shall raise it. I shall raise it.”

“Ya soft wee fool,” BoomFuzzy sighed. Then grinned. “Aye. Let’s be raisin’ a death beast in the kitchen. Why not? Just dinnae let it eat the staff.”

The mountain groaned.

Not from pressure.

Not from magma.

But from memory.

Fire Mountain did not sleep. It remembered.

Quaraun cradled the egg close to his chest, pressing the smooth, glistening shell to the embroidered pink silks that hung like waterfalls from his shoulders. A sling, stitched hastily from a pink scarf he had once worn to a royal ball three centuries ago, now served as a cradle. The egg pulsed.

Thrum.

Thrum.

Thrum.

Life. Or something trying very hard to imitate life.

It shimmered, not with natural sheen, but synthetic gleam.

No scales.

No calcified shell.

It hummed with nano-circuitry and faintly glowed from within, as though housing a miniature sun.

“I love it,” Quaraun said.

“You dinnae know what it is,” BoomFuzzy snarled, pacing the rim of the lava chamber, tail swishing with irritation. “It could be a feckin’ plague bomb. A cloned meat bomb. A necrovirus egg. A time-loop trap!Ya ken how many Humans tried tae genocide us with tech like that?”

“Yeah, man, BoomFuzzy’s like… not wrong this time,” GhoulSpawn added nervously, tapping frantically at a scanning device that looked suspiciously like a repurposed pocket calculator duct-taped to a handheld gamma core. “This thing is straight-up emitting Class-Two-A quantum echoes. That’s, like, super bad. You remember the Boston Incident? Those guys tried to hatch a cyber-wraith and it melted an entire underground city into sentient yoghurt.”

“It is unborn,” Quaraun said flatly. “I shall not abandon it. I shall not destroy it. I shall protect it. I must protect it. It is cold and alone. Alone and cold. Like me. Like I was. I am it. It is me.”

BoomFuzzy snarled.

Low.

Dangerous.

He stalked forward — tail lashing, eyes blazing.

“You planted this, did ya no’, GhoulSpawn? Eh? A wee prank tae make the Elf all fuzzy an’ glowy in the heartbits? Think it funny? Tryin’ tae break him, are ya? Mess wi’ me head? What game is this?”

“What? No! No way! I totally did not make that thing, dude. That tech’s like way beyond even my scavenged astro-junk. This thing’s alien. Or, or trans-dimensional.”

“I trust you both,” Quaraun whispered.

That made it worse.

That always made it worse.

BoomFuzzy growled again. Slid toward the edge of the lava vent. He grabbed the egg by the sling. Lifted it.

Delicately.

Dangerously, between thumb and claw.

“I’ll burn it. I’ll feckin’ burn it. Watch me. Gone. Pffft. Nothin’ but a sizzle and a smell.”

“No!” Quaraun’s voice cracked. His ears drooped. “Please. Please, no. It is not its fault. It did not choose to be born. It is not evil. It is not a weapon. It is just… just… confused. Alone. Like I was. Let me love it. I must love it.”

BoomFuzzy flinched.

His eyes softened, only a fraction, only for a second.

He dropped the egg gently into Quaraun’s arms, muttered a string of obscene curses, and stormed deeper into the caverns, past gold-strewn vaults, beneath the charred archways and ancient mosaic floors of the UnSeelie Court’s buried ruins.

GhoulSpawn looked sheepish.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll build a stasis pod. Something with, like, dampeners. A scanner. Quantum firewall. Super-insulated. Gooey core in case it hatches into a liquid parasite. Y’know. Standard prep.”

Quaraun nodded absently, rocking the egg gently.

“Thank you.”

Behind them, a soft rumble echoed from deeper in the cave. 
Nord stirred.

The DracoLich’s enormous skull slithered from the treasure hoard. Jewels clinked. Bones creaked. Her blackened ribs glowed faintly with eternal embers. The glow of necro-energy danced in her hollow sockets.

But she did not snarl. She did not strike.

She pressed her skeletal snout gently to Quaraun’s shoulder, nuzzling

A low, affectionate rumble purred from her ancient throat.
Quaraun smiled.

“It is all right, PocketLich. It is just a baby. It is ours now.”

Nord coiled protectively around them.

A massive, undead shield. A fortress of bone and scale and love.

Deep beneath, in the sulphur-slicked catacombs, BoomFuzzy sat slumped in his old throne, made of polished black obsidian and rubies like frozen blood-tears. Dust clung to the jagged horns that crowned its back. Rust had spread like moss across the floor tiles.

He sighed. Then swore.

He loved Quaraun.

Madly.

Hopelessly.

And he hated anything that might break the Elf.

He did not trust the egg.

But he could not fight Quaraun’s tears.

So he sulked.

Until the tremor hit.

Until GhoulSpawn screamed from above:

“GUYS! It’s hatching! It’s hatching and it’s… IT’S YOU!”

The golden chrome shell cracked.

Steam hissed.

Crack.

Pop.

Hisssss.

The egg split open like a clamshell of chrome, seams hissing with neon mist and steam.

The temperature plummeted.

The air felt electrified.

Quaraun, kneeling, stared in stunned silence. His long ears drooped. The jellyfish strands of his silver hair curled tighter, twitching in nervous spirals.

And from the egg slid a slick, gleaming figure. Chrome-skinned, silver-haired, hollow-eyed…

The creature unfurled.

It was him.

Exactly him.

Same height. Same robes. Same twelve-foot tangle of jellyfish tendrils cascading in pink ribbons. Same rhinestone nipple chains. Same feather boa. Same dainty velvet slippers.

Same eyes.

Almost.

These were hollow.

Empty.

Mirror-black voids.

Reflecting light, but holding no soul.

It was Quaraun.

But not.

A mirror.

A machine.

A perfect reflection without a soul.

“Duuuuuude,” GhoulSpawn breathed, clutching the stasis scanner to his chest like a teddy bear. “This thing’s, like, 94% identical to your DNA, Quaraun, but the rest? It’s… synthetic. Cybernetic. Like — like quantum-plasmic alloy skin wrapped around a deep-learning core.”

The clone blinked once.

Then stood.

It looked at Quaraun.

And then —

“HELLO, MOTHER.”

Quaraun recoiled.

“What? What? What is this? What are you? What have I done? What did I hatch? What have I birthed?”

The clone cocked its head, birdlike.

Smiled. Teeth gleamed like polished razors. Then, in a chilling, metallic voice, it said:

“I AM THE UNBROKEN QUARAUN. I AM WHAT YOU COULD HAVE BEEN. WITHOUT FEAR. WITHOUT FLAW. WITHOUT…LOVE.”

“Aw, fuuuuck me sideways with a sheep shearer,” BoomFuzzy groaned, storming up the tunnel behind them, stormclouds practically forming around his head. “Ya feckin’ hatched a clone. A wee, mirror-fucker. A feckin’ soul-sucker golem. How in the bloody frozen unicorn balls did this happen?!”

Quaraun stood slowly. His hands trembled. His nose rings jingled as his ears twitched in time with his rapid, panicked breathing.

And then —

FWOOSH!

A sudden geyser of red glitter.

A swirl of black smoke.

A triumphant “MWA-HA-HA-HA!” echoing far too loudly for the size of the cavern.

A figure leapt from a ledge high above the hoard.

Or rather, he tried to leap. His boot caught on his red cape. He slipped. 
Tumbled.

Smacked face-first into a stalagmite. Rolled three times. Landed with a thunk.

“Curses! CURSES! Stupid rock formations! Stupid boots! I knew I should have worn my anti-slip soles today!” the newcomer shrieked, coughing up dust and straightening his bright red crushed velvet cape.

Quaraun sighed.

“Oh. No. Not you.”

BoomFuzzy facepalmed.

“Oh, for feck’s sake. Him again.”

“HellBorne,” GhoulSpawn whispered, already stepping behind Nord’s protective claw bones.

HellBorne The Great, Summoner of The Darkness, strode forward with a flourish of purple robes and a dramatic, sweeping gesture of his lone silver cybernetic arm. His afro was tied in ridiculous glittery double space buns, and his left eye twitched with obsessive, twitchy rage.

“YES! IT IS I! HellBorne! Your DOOM! Your DOWNFALL! Your — urk — ow ow ow — your arch-NEMESIS!”

He tripped on a ruby.

Again.

Quaraun stared, unimpressed.

“I am HellBorne The Great, Summoner of The Darkness!” HellBorne screeched. “I’m your greatest enemy! I’ve almost killed you six times!”

“You accidentally blew up your own fortress,” GhoulSpawn corrected.

“With a pie machine.”

“It was an explosive flan launcher!” HellBorne howled. “And it was brilliant! Until the blueberries went rogue.”

BoomFuzzy growled.

“Did ya make this thing?”

He jabbed a claw toward the Chrome Quaraun, who was currently levitating an entire boulder with his mind, humming tunelessly, acting every bit as ditzy as the real Quaraun.

“OF COURSE I DID! Behold! My masterpiece! The Mirror-Born! My synthetic sorcerous spawn! I created it using quantum-infused embryonic phantasm weaving! Very advanced stuff, only I could manage it. I left it here to grow in your stupid Lich-cursed cave, knowing Quaraun’s stupid bleeding heart would never allow him to destroy an egg! HAH! I TRICKED YOU!”

He struck a pose.

Waited.

Nothing happened.

Chrome Quaraun turned.

Raised a hand.

Snapped its fingers.

HellBorne flew up, slammed into the ceiling, and crashed down again in a heap of glitter and curses.

“OWWW! TRAITOR! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO OBEY ME!”

“I OBEY NO ONE. I AM THE BETTER QUARAUN.”

BoomFuzzy drew his Glimmer Stick Wand.

“Nae, love. Ya really are nae. Ya dunnae even have pink rhinestones on yer nipples.”

GhoulSpawn’s eyes widened.

“Dudes. This thing’s self-evolving. I think it’s learning faster than we can stop it.”

“Unicorn,” Quaraun said, grabbing BoomFuzzy’s arm. “Do not hurt it. Please. It is still a child.”

“It ain’t a feckin’ child, Love. It’s a techno-demonic chrome plated doppelgänger! It just tried tae murder the fucking Dime Store Gargamel over here!”

HellBorne groaned from the floor.

“I told you, my name is HellBorne the Great!”

“SHUT UP, YA BACKFIRIN’ WEE WARLOCK!” BoomFuzzy barked.

The cave shook.

Chrome Quaraun rose into the air, arms spread.

A storm of pink lightning crackled across the ceiling.

Nord reared up behind them, her massive skeletal wings spreading wide, protecting Quaraun with a snarl of protective fury.

“THIS IS BAD!” GhoulSpawn yelled. “LIKE, END-OF-THE-WORLD BAD!”

Quaraun stepped forward.

Face calm.

Voice quiet.

“I know. I shall fix it. I made this mistake. I shall not abandon it. I shall not destroy it. I shall speak to it. I shall try.”

The Mirror-Born turned its soulless eyes toward him.

And Quaraun whispered:

“I see you. I hear you. I am sorry.”

Silence swelled in the echoing chamber.

No one breathed.

Not even HellBorne, who still lay twitching among scattered sapphires, mouthing the words

“Betrayed… by… my own… creation…” like a pantomime death scene.
The Mirror-Born hovered just above the gold-piled floor, not moving, not blinking. Every polished silver inch of it reflected Quaraun — the real Quaraun — standing still, trembling, unsure.

Quaraun’s foot long rabbitty ears twitched. His dainty silver chains clinked.

One hand clutched the silk sling where the egg had once been. His other hand he extended slowly.

BoomFuzzy hissed.

“Quaraun, dinnae ya dare touch that thing.”

“I must,” Quaraun said, not taking his eyes off the chrome reflection. “I made this mistake. I gave it life. If it is soulless, then perhaps I must give it soul. I cannot turn away from it. I do not abandon my children.”

The Mirror-Born tilted its head, watching him like a curious cat. Its hollow eyes flickered. Not light. Not life. But… something. Processing.

“I see you,” Quaraun whispered. “You are afraid.”

“I FEEL NO FEAR,” it replied, but the voice cracked. Wavered.

BoomFuzzy’s ears twitched.

GhoulSpawn stepped cautiously closer, gadget in hand, scanning.

Quaraun pressed his gloved hand to its cold metal chest.

“You are not evil.”

“I WAS MADE TO BE BETTER THAN YOU.”

“There is no better than love,” Quaraun said softly. “And love is what you are missing.”

The Mirror-Born twitched.

Jerked.

Shuddered.

It dropped to its knees.

“M-m-mother… what is… love…”

Quaraun knelt with it.

Held it.

The jellyfish strands of his hair coiled protectively around the mirror-clone’s body, luminescent in the flickering red lava-light.

BoomFuzzy looked like he might cry. Or throw something. Possibly both.
GhoulSpawn wiped his nose on his sleeve, trying not to sniffle.

“Duuude… it’s imprinting.”

“You were not born evil,” Quaraun whispered into its shoulder. “You were simply… alone.”

The Mirror-Born clutched him tightly. Too tightly. Hydraulic servos whirred, metal creaked.

Quaraun gasped.

“Gentle. Gentle, my child.”

“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND… GENTLE…”

Quaraun’s ears drooped as he winced.

“You shall learn. I shall teach you.”

BoomFuzzy sighed and crossed his arms.

“Bloody heartstring pullin’ bastard.”

“That’s our Elf,” GhoulSpawn grinned, tail wagging.

“MY CREATION! MY MASTERPIECE!” HellBorne wailed from under a pile of emeralds. “IT WAS SUPPOSED TO KILL YOU!”

Quaraun blinked.

“Why would you build a killing machine… with feelings?”

HellBorne sniffled.

“Because… emotions are aesthetically superior. And I wanted it to weep dramatically after it killed you.”

BoomFuzzy flung a bone at him. It hit HellBorne square in the afro-bun.

“Get tae fuck, ya melodramatic meat wizard.”

GhoulSpawn rubbed his temples.

“So… what now, guys?”

Quaraun pulled back. Looked into the Mirror-Born’s face.

“I shall raise it. As I raise all the others.”

“It?” BoomFuzzy muttered. “Is nae exactly house-trained, Love.”

“It shall learn.”

“An’ what if it doesnae?”

“I shall still love it.”

Nord, massive skeletal wings folded over her hoard, rumbled low and deep. The DracoLich moved not to attack, but to shelter. She curled protectively around Quaraun and the clone, as though sensing the birth of something sacred.

GhoulSpawn stepped closer. Tapped a button on his stasis pod.

“Okay, so… just, like, theoretically speaking? If it starts absorbing magic and mutates into a chrome techno-demigod bent on rewriting reality…?”
Quaraun smiled sadly.

“Then I shall ask it… why. I shall not strike it down in fear.”

BoomFuzzy rolled his eyes.

“Ya wee bloody pink marshmallow. Yer gonna mother the whole feckin’ wasteland at this rate.”

“I am a mother,” Quaraun said firmly, rising to his feet. “And this is now one of my children.”

The Mirror-Born rose beside him. Less mechanical now. Its frame softened. Glitched. Shifted. It was… changing. Not just in shape, but in intention.

It held Quaraun’s hand.

BoomFuzzy stared. Snorted. Then huffed a soft, resigned sigh.

“I’ll knit it a feckin’ jumper.”

And somewhere beneath a mound of gold and rock candy…

HellBorne quietly pulled out a scroll.

Unrolled it.

The top read:

PLAN 973: “OPERATION UNICORN WEDGIE.”

He cackled.

“Next time… next time…”

The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy King Gwallmaiic aka BoomFuzzy the Unicorn: Quaraun's husband, BoomFuzzy aka King Gwallmaiic, a Scottish Phooka, who is King of The UnSeelie Court. Quaraun is his court mage and advisor, as well as the only Elf in The UnSeelie Court. BoomFuzzy is a "classic fantasy type" Necromancer who uses sorcery to raise the dead. Being a Faerie he is also an illusionist and master of trickster magic. By profession, he is a Master Chef, owning the global monopoly on restaurants, taverns, pubs, and food trucks. Until his death, BoomFuzzy was regarded as the world's most powerful wizard. He is now a Lich. BoomFuzzy is also half-Human. His mother was a Mongolian/Chinese Human, which is why he wears distinctively Asian outfits, along with a great kilt worn as a cape. Known as BoomFuzzy the Unicorn, he often takes the form of a purple Unicorn. BoomFuzzy's exact age is unknown, though he was well over two thousand years old at the time of his death, and Quaraun resurrected him as a Lich around 500+ years ago, making him close to 3,000 years old. In his BlackBird form he is fifteen thousand years old. Art by Wendy Christine Allen

Quaraun Quaraun the Insane aka The Pink Necromancer: The F2M transgender Persian Moon Elf main character: The Pink Necromancer, Quaraun The Insane, with BoomFuzzy the Unicorn. F2M for those unaware = Quaraun was biologically born female, but transitioned to live as a male; this is why there are stories where Quaraun is sometimes pregnant, in spite of being male and using he/him male pronouns. Quaraun is a Necromancer by the actual dictionary definition of the word, meaning he is a psychic medium who sees and hears ghosts, and uses tarot, spirit boards, and seances to communicate with the dead. By profession he is a silk weaver/tailor/silk merchant. Quaraun is an Elder God JellyFish who takes the form of an Elf to blend in with society. His 12 foot long hair is made out of venomous, stinging jellyfish tentacles. Quaraun is BoomFuzzy's apprentice and regarded as the world's most powerful still living wizard. Quaraun's exact age is unknown, but he is somewhere around 750 years old. In his SunTa form he is twelve thousand years old. The Scared Pink JellyFish that lives in him, is stated to being over two million years old. Art by Wendy Christine Allen

Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series

🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸

• eBook Editions from this series can be found on: GumRoad

• Kindle, eBook, Print Paperback, & full colour illustrated Hardcover Editions from this series can be found on: Amazon

Main characters: The Pink Necromancer, Quaraun (A Moon Elf) and his husband King Gwallmaiic aka BoomFuzzy aka The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, Lich King of Fire Mountain (A Phooka/Faerie).

BoomFuzzy is King of The UnSeelie Court;

Quaraun is his Court Mage;

GhoulSpawn (not pictured) is Quaraun’s apprentice.

They are the world’s three most evil super villains, though they do not see themselves as evil. They own the world’s only functioning BioDome and thus hold the world’s monopoly on crops, food, livestock, and fabric, holding the Human population at their sadistic mercy.

These stories are told from their point of view.

 — — Art by Wendy Christine Allen

Meet The Characters

Books By Wendy Christine Allen
Currently Available on Amazon Kindle:

Index of the Quaraun novels, novellas, & short story collections on Amazon

And GumRoad:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on GumRoad

On Medium:

An Index of the more than TWO THOUSAND Quaraun Short Stories on Medium

(NOTE: a $5 or $15 per month paid subscription required to access stories on Medium)

On Vocal:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on Vocal

On Notd:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on Notd

On OnlyFans:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on OnlyFans

Pink Necromancer Merch: On CafePress:

An Index of the Quaraun Merch on CafePress

Pink Necromancer Merch: On Zazzle:

Index of the Quaraun Merch on Zazzle

Not Quaraun:

This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.

All Rights Reserved.