Dragon's egg in the kitchen by @f3nix

Dear friends, thank you so much for your feedback on the first part of this story. I wrote a sequel mainly for three reasons:

1. There's a very interesting idea in @swissclive 's last article about Steem as a vanity asset. This tingled my creativity and I wanted to enjoy myself in exploiting this concept (which has a deep socio-economical base) from a fiction perspective.
2. This is also a freewrite (prompt: pen). You can find more info about the amazing @improv & @mariannewest 's project right here. We freewriters are growing everyday more and building something unique!
3. The super-cute @brisby 's daughter ! I promised her a sequel and this is the most special reason between all.

English Version

300 words

The Garden abounded in fruit and the water gushed out around Wonnim from flashy fountains. The young man wandered in those colors and perfumes, among water games that seemed to mock him. Although his mind was empty, his stomach was full and his throat quenched.

One day Wonnim watered by chance from a humble tub: it was the mystical Fountain of the Thousand Stories.

Dark. Where was he? A reassuring darkness was enveloping him. The last thing he remembered was the Garden gate. Looking at his wrinkled hands, the hands of an old man, he felt like crying, and instead he fell asleep. Before sleep, Wonnim thought about that darkness, pulsating of life, as a mother's womb.

When he was born, little Elahw's cry seemed like a pleasant laugh. On earth, there was no child more talented than him in storytelling.

Growing up, it was clear that Elahw would become the greatest novelist of all time.
He became fond of Steemit. The whole world followed him and the Earth's breath followed the rhythm of his stories.

Elahw felt himself like the world's emperor. His pen was the hand of destiny and now he no longer had to write such interesting things to be flattered by his many followers.

One day, returning from an important gala, he met a beggar. He felt to remember him from another life. Without knowing why, he thought of a maze. We do not know what the old man told him, but the day after Elahw's articles stopped flowing from Steemit. His many followers had a sob of surprise and bewilderment: he disappeared from the face of the earth.

Along the streets of Stheemia, an elderly beggar appeared on the side of the road. Soon he would have revealed a secret to an ambitious young man.

Versione Italiana

300 parole

Il Giardino abbondava di frutti e l'acqua zampillava festosa attorno a Wonnim dalle appariscenti fontane. Il giovane vagava, immerso in quei colori e profumi, fra giochi acquatici che sembravano deriderlo. Nonostante la sua mente fosse vuota, il suo stomaco era sazio e la gola dissetata.

Passarono decenni, quando un giorno Wonnim si abbeverò per caso da un'umile tinozza: era la mistica Fontana delle Mille Storie.

Buio. Dove si trovava? L'ultima cosa che ricordava era il cancello dei Giardini. Guardando le sue mani rugose, le mani di un vecchio, gli venne da piangere e, invece, si addormentò rannicchiato. Attorno a lui, un'oscurità rassicurante lo avvolgeva. Prima di dormire, Wonnim pensò che quell'oscurità pulsante di vita assomigliava tanto al ventre di una madre.

Appena partorito, il piccolo Elahw si distinse subito per un pianto che sembrava una fragorosa risata. Sulla terra non c'era bimbo più precoce quanto a capacità oratorie.

Crescendo, fu subito chiara la vocazione di Elahw: sarebbe stato il più grande romanziere di tutti i tempi.
Conobbe Steemit e si appassionò. Steemit crebbe e lui ne diventò la bandiera. Tutto il mondo ormai lo seguiva. Il respiro della terra seguiva il ritmo delle sue storie.

Elahw si sentiva l'imperatore del mondo. La sua penna era la mano del destino e ormai non doveva più scrivere cose così interessanti per essere adulato dai tanti ammiratori.

Un giorno, di ritorno da una serata importante, incontrò un mendicante. Gli sembrava di averlo visto quasi in un'altra vita. Senza sapere perchè, pensò ad un labirinto. Non sappiamo cosa gli disse quel vecchio, ma il giorno dopo gli articoli di Elahw smisero di scorrere su Steemit: sembrava scomparso dalla faccia della terra.

Lungo le vie di Stheemia, un anziano mendicante era comparso sul ciglio della strada. Presto avrebbe rivelato un segreto ad un giovane ambizioso.