Marshall stood in the castle training yard beside the wide, glittering moat. The stone walls rose high, with the great red Dragon Flag fluttering on the tallest tower. Knights’ shiny armor gleamed in a row like metal statues.

Marshall held his practice wand. “Glow, just a little,” he whispered. A faint, shaky light wobbled at the tip. Tomas and Freya clapped kindly.

“Try again,” Freya said. “You’re improving.”

Marshall took a deep breath and tried a stronger glow spell. The light shot upward and tugged at something high above.

Later that day, Marshall heard soft gasps in the courtyard. He looked up. The Dragon Flag was gone.

“The flag has helped our castle for as long as anyone can remember,” said a kindly guard. “We must find it.”

Marshall’s stomach felt heavy. Had his wobbly spell pulled it away? “I’ll help,” he said. Tomas and Freya nodded at once.

Inside the long stone hallways, their footsteps tapped on the floor. Tiny red threads drifted along the stairs. “A trail,” Marshall said. It led past old tapestries and up toward the old dragon stable at the back tower.

At the stable door, Marshall saw gentle scratch marks on the wood. “Did I call a real dragon by mistake?” he whispered.

They stepped inside. Dusty sunlight slid through cracks. Rows of empty armor stood silent. In the middle, on a crumpled red bundle, lay a tiny dragon, no bigger than a sheep. It was curled on the missing flag like a nest.

The baby dragon blinked shy golden eyes. Little puffs of warm, soft smoke floated from its nose.

“It’s just cold,” Marshall said. “I’ll fix the flag.”

He tried a careful repair spell. The flag shimmered… then shrank into a small scarf.

The baby dragon shivered. Marshall’s cheeks burned. “I made it worse,” he murmured.

He closed his eyes and remembered his teacher’s calm voice: “When magic goes wrong, breathe, think, and try again.”

Marshall pictured what he wanted: a big, warm flag, strong enough to share. He spoke the spell once more, slow and steady.

The red cloth stretched and grew, smooth and bright. Marshall, Tomas, and Freya wrapped it around the baby dragon and themselves like a glowing red tent.

Later, in the courtyard, Marshall told the queen everything. She touched a tiny nibble mark on the flag and laughed. “Every castle needs a gentle dragon protector,” she said. “This baby dragon will be our new castle helper.”

Marshall smiled, proud that his mistake had become something wonderful.