1 - Daughter Of The Storm

01 - The Silver Egg

13th day of the season of birth 2433

A loud crackling sound was heard in the dark cave located on the borders of Atgoren, a city and a refuge for dragons and dragon riders. The two guards stationed at the entrance stiffened to the sound. Unsure of what to do, they stared stupidly at the interior of the cave: it was part of a series of dens that formed the Great Nest, where the majestic dragons reside, said to be tamed due to their integration into a humanoid community. However, the refuge was the smallest of the structure; an adult dragon could barely enter it. Nevertheless, it was firm, solid and its entrance had been polished to a perfect half-moon shape.

"Come on! We have to check what's going on."

The one on the left, drowsy and lazily leaning on his spear, sighed.

"It's probably a rat looking for shelter or food again. There's no need to bother yourself, let alone move around, Fingäar."

"No need to bother myself... and to move around?" Fingäar questioned, outraged by the suggestion that had been proposed to him. "How can you say such a thing? What if it was important this time? What if it was the egg? Take your duties seriously!"

The moon elf with the long braided hair didn't bother to wait for his comrade. He was eager to explore the interior of the cave. Dogan, a short and plump human, grumbled and resolved to follow him while continuing to speak aloud as if nothing mattered to him.

Fingäar stopped abruptly. Dogan slipped on melting ice and bumped his head on his skinny colleague's back. The impact between his helmet and Fingäar's armor resounded for a long time. A few dragons sunbathing on top of the caves turned their attention to them.

Fingäar glared at his companion.

"By the light of Elysia, stop complaining and chattering! I'm trying to concentrate."

Once inside, the darkness of the cave didn't affect him much thanks to his elven vision. At first glance, the egg was nowhere to be found. The straw nest was empty.

"Strange," the elf whispered to himself.

"By Elysia!" exclaimed Dogan, alarmed. "The rats have stolen the little one!"

He expected a more extravagant reaction from his companion, who offered him no more than a roll of the eyes.

"That would be ridiculous!" grunted Fingäar. "Honestly... Rats don't act that way."

After a while, he turned pale and picked up something from the ground and raised it in front of his nose. In his palm was a rectangular object with fine, sharp edges.

"Show me," asked the pudgy man.

The elf reached his hand out and Dogan quickly glanced at it.

"He or she hatched!" he cried. "This is wonderful news!"

The shell had a dark gray hue in the shadow of the cave, but in reality it was silvery and veined with purple.

"Ask yourself how you feel about this," Fingäar advised. "Do I need to remind you that he or she is the offspring of Gariak and Amarath?"

He scanned the surroundings cautiously as if he was watching for danger.

"Amarath," Dogan sighed with emotion. "I found her amusing and yet she was capable of aggression. She will not be forgotten," he ended with a respectful salutation.

Too busy recalling his memories of the dragoness, he didn't notice that his companion was glaring at him. He diverted his attention to a silhouette lurking at the bottom of the cave and pointed in her direction.