After the excitement settled, Tavriel's laughter slowly faded.
Her tiny brows knitted together as she looked at the incubator again—at the white egg, still whole, still glowing softly.
She pointed with a small trembling finger."Moi…?"Then quieter, confused."Moi… no…"
Her lips quivered.
Lunivelle knelt beside her immediately, voice gentle as silk."Hey… hey, starling. That one is just shy. It will come out."
Tavriel looked up at her, eyes already glassy."Come…?" she asked, unsure.
"Yes," Lunivelle said, brushing her curls back. "It takes its time. Some hearts wake slowly."
Tavriel turned toward Thirukumaran, clinging to his shirt now."Da… come?"
He tightened his hold around her, pressing his forehead lightly to hers."It will come out, my girl. I promise. Just not yet."
That was enough to break the dam.
A soft sob escaped her—tiny, helpless, two-years-old and too full of feelings. Tears welled up and spilled, quiet but heavy.
Lunivelle pulled her close from the other side."Oh, no… no tears. Come here."
The four Dropies, still perched on Tavriel's shoulders, felt it.
Their floating dots changed shape—flattening, dimming.
They slid down gently, landing near the white egg.
Without sound, without instruction, all four pressed themselves against it—rubbing, circling, pulsing softly.
The white egg responded.
Its glow intensified—slow at first… then brighter.
Brighter.
The light flooded the room.
Too bright to see.
Then—
A sneeze.
A sharp, adorable sound—"H'TSHOO!"
Ice crystals burst outward, snowflakes spiraling gently through the air.
The light faded.
Big eyes stared out from the cracked shell.
Wide. Curious. Glowing pale blue.
The egg broke open fully.
Out stepped a tiny Snow-Drag.
Small. Snow-white. Four little legs planted shakily on the cotton. Small wings tucked close. A faint chill rolled off it like winter breathing softly.
It made a sound—soft, melodic, impossibly cute.
"Snooow… wiiii…"
Tavriel froze.
Then gasped.
Thirukumaran whispered, stunned,"…That's not a Dropie."
Lunivelle's breath caught."That's a Snow-Drag."
Silence.
Rare. Extremely rare. Almost never sold openly.
Lunivelle stared at the broken shell."We… got the wrong egg."
Thirukumaran nodded slowly."Yeah. Definitely the wrong one."
The Snow-Drag tilted its head, curious, then sneezed again—
Tiny shards of frost puffed out, snowflakes drifting lazily to the floor.
Tavriel laughed instantly, tears forgotten."Ha! Cold!"
She reached out.
The Snow-Drag leaned forward too, sniffing her fingers. It opened its mouth—tiny, toothless—and tried to bite.
Failed completely.
The Dropies jumped onto it immediately, bouncing around its head, clinging like playful droplets. The Snow-Drag blinked, then relaxed, settling down among them as if this chaos was… acceptable.
Tavriel scooped it up carefully.
The Snow-Drag made a happy sound."Snoo… wiii…"
She hugged it.
Thirukumaran and Lunivelle exchanged a look—half disbelief, half awe.
"A bigger space," Lunivelle murmured. "Cooler environment. Snow-Drags need room."
Thirukumaran exhaled slowly."Our house just evolved."
They watched as the tiny creature curled up comfortably in Tavriel's arms, Dropies hopping around it like welcoming rain.
Then—
A movement.
From the same broken shell.
Another glow.
Something smaller… slid out.
A second Snow-Drag—this one blue, even tinier than the first, blinking sleepily as if confused about existence.
Both adults stared.
Thirukumaran whispered,"…There were two."
Lunivelle closed her eyes briefly."Of course there were."
Tavriel laughed uncontrollably now, holding one Snow-Drag while the other squeaked softly beside it, the Dropies dancing around both.
The room filled with soft snow, glowing magic, and the sound of a child discovering joy multiplied.
Thirukumaran finally smiled—slow, stunned, helpless."Well… looks like our family just expanded."
Lunivelle nodded, still in awe."In ways we never planned."
And in that warm, impossible moment—with rain-creatures, snow-dragons, and a laughing child—
Their home quietly became something even rarer than magic:
Alive.