The canyon narrowed into a winding path flanked by jagged rock walls, where the sunlight barely reached and the air grew colder with every step. Calypsius and Ellara moved cautiously, the silence between them now a quiet understanding rather than unease.
Neither spoke of the vision.
Not yet.
Ahead, a faint glow pulsed from within the crevice of a collapsed stone arch. It wasn't magic—at least, not the kind Calypsius recognized. It was something older. Wilder.
Ellara stepped lightly over a cluster of broken roots and narrowed her eyes. "This wasn't here before."
Calypsius crouched by the rubble, brushing away layers of moss and soot. Beneath it, he found stone tiles—ancient, carved with swirling patterns that pulsed with warmth. As he touched one, it shimmered faintly beneath his fingers, like breath on a mirror.
"This whole place is buried," he murmured. "A ruin."
"Not just a ruin," Ellara said, pointing to the symbol carved into the central tile. It resembled a twisting flame curled around a single eye.
"Draconic," she whispered.
Calypsius stood. "A temple?"
"Maybe. Or a vault. Dragons were secretive creatures, protective of their kin. If this is what I think it is…"
They exchanged a look, then pressed forward.
The passage grew tighter, and the temperature rose sharply. Steam hissed from cracks in the walls, and a deep, rhythmic thrum echoed through the stone—like the breath of something sleeping.
When they emerged into a hollowed-out cavern, Calypsius stopped in his tracks.
It was beautiful.
A vast chamber, lit by the amber glow of crystal veins that ran like molten rivers along the ceiling. In the center, nestled in a cradle of obsidian and ancient bone, lay a single egg—sleek and black, veined with shimmering crimson. It pulsed with heat, every beat echoing in sync with Valenyr's glow.
Ellara knelt beside it, awestruck. "It's real," she breathed. "A dragon egg. Intact. Alive."
Calypsius approached slowly, his hand instinctively reaching out. The moment his fingers brushed the shell, a surge of warmth rushed through him—not like fire, but recognition.
Valenyr hummed. Not with warning.
With welcome.
"They're linked," he said quietly. "This egg… it knows the blade."
Ellara's gaze sharpened. "Then this isn't just some lost relic. It's here for
Calypsius stood motionless, hand resting on the egg's warm shell. A faint vibration moved beneath his palm—subtle at first, like the hum of a sleeping creature, but growing. Deep. Resonant. Alive.
Ellara watched him carefully. "What's happening?"
"I… don't know," he said, voice distant. "It's… pulling something from me."
Valenyr pulsed once at his side, but did nothing to resist.
Then he felt it—a slow, steady draw. Like a river feeding into a deeper current, his strength began to ebb. Not all at once. Not painful. Just… surrendering. The kind of surrender that felt inevitable.
The veins on the egg's shell glowed brighter, shifting from crimson to gold.
"Calypsius," Ellara said cautiously, stepping forward. "Let go."
"I can't," he breathed. "It's not taking—it's… choosing."
The egg flared. A radiant light spilled out from every crevice in the obsidian cradle. The warmth surged, enveloping both of them. Steam hissed from the ground as the very air vibrated with ancient energy.
Ellara shielded her eyes. "It's waking up."
Calypsius sank to one knee, his hand still locked to the egg. He could feel something forming—not words, but presence. A quiet awareness unfurling within the shell. A hunger, not for destruction—but for connection.
Then, with a sudden crack, the egg split.
The sound echoed through the chamber like the chime of a great bell.
A thin line of glowing light appeared along the surface, running from top to base. It widened slowly, breath by breath, until the shell broke apart completely.
Inside, nestled in a swirl of ash and light, was a creature no larger than a wolf pup. Its scales shimmered between obsidian and bronze, and tiny wings, translucent and delicate, were folded tightly against its back.
Its eyes opened—glowing, golden slits—and locked directly onto Calypsius.
He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
The creature let out a soft, rattling trill. Not hostile. Curious.
Then it stepped forward—not toward Ellara, not toward the chamber, but to him.
Calypsius extended a trembling hand. The hatchling pressed its snout against his palm, and in that moment, something shifted. A bond, not unlike the one he shared with Valenyr, but wilder. Raw. Unwritten.
He saw flashes—flames dancing across ancient skies, dragonkind soaring above forgotten kingdoms, the shattering of bonds and the silence that followed.
And then, silence again.
Ellara knelt beside him. "You… just hatched a dragon."
Calypsius nodded slowly, eyes still on the creature. "I think it's bound to me."
"It used your energy to awaken," she said carefully. "That's not a coincidence."
"No," he whispered, lifting the small dragon gently into his arms. Its wings fluttered briefly, then folded against his chest. "It's a choice."
Valenyr dimmed, its glow quiet, almost reverent.
Ellara exhaled a slow breath. "We need to get out of here before anything else in this place wakes up."
Calypsius nodded, still stunned. "Let's go."
They turned back toward the narrow tunnel, the newborn dragon nestled quietly against him. Behind them, the chamber began to dim, the crystal veins slowly fading—like the land itself exhaled at the release of a long-held secret.
But the silence now wasn't threatening.
It was waiting.