Vale heard Drago speak and turned at once. He raised a brow and stepped closer, kneeling beside the cluster of crimson eggs. Up close, they radiated a subtle heat, not enough to burn, but enough to be felt, a steady, living warmth that pulsed faintly beneath their hardened shells.
He recognized them immediately.
The Bloodscale eggs.
The offspring of the first monarch of the Scorched Sands.
The realization unsettled him. 'Why would the children of a being so powerful die?' Vale studied the eggs closely, their surfaces etched with natural ridges like frozen flames. They looked perfect, too perfect to be fragile.
Before he could voice his thoughts, Eskar spoke first.
"Why will they die?"
Drago did not answer.
For a long, heavy moment, he simply stood there, lowering himself beside the eggs. Slowly, carefully, he let his hand glide over their surfaces, as though afraid that even the slightest pressure might disturb something sacred. His expression was distant, weighed down by knowledge earned rather than learned.
Finally, he sighed and looked up at both of them.
"The Bloodscale is not merely a dragon," Drago said quietly. "It is the most powerful dragon species in existence. Once they reach adulthood, they naturally ascend to the rank of a Goliath of Uncreation, without being exceptional among their kin."
Vale narrowed his eyes slightly. Power like that, achieved without distinction, was almost absurd.
"But power such as that," Drago continued, "demands balance. A price. The Bloodscales have trials of their own, and the first is their birth. In truth… it is based almost entirely on luck."
He paused, his gaze dropping back to the eggs.
"To gain their immense firepower, the process begins before they ever hatch. The hatchling must ignite its own heart, set it ablaze from within. The heat builds, boiling the egg from the inside, until the shell can no longer endure it and shatters under the pressure."
His voice grew quieter.
"The reason their mother survived is not because she was stronger. It is because she was lucky. The chance of dying during this process is extraordinarily high. Of those born, nearly all perish before ever drawing breath."
Drago exhaled slowly. "The survival rate of the hatching process alone is approximately one in a million. That is why I have little faith in a clutch of only three."
Vale absorbed the words in silence.
The life of a Bloodscale was the ultimate gamble:
Survive, and become an existence rivaling gods.
Fail, and die before truly being born.
And failure was far more likely.
He slowly lowered himself to the ground, staring at the eggs with a conflicted expression. Eskar knelt beside him, but his gaze was different, not analytical, not calculating. There was something softer there.
Pity.
"What if they hatch?" Vale asked quietly.
Drago did not answer at first. The silence stretched again, thick and contemplative. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat, almost detached.
"Then the world will have another dragon."
Eskar's eyes narrowed.
Before anyone could stop him, he reached forward and lifted one of the eggs into his arms.
Vale looked up sharply. Drago reacted immediately.
"Hey," the old man snapped. "What do you think you're doing?"
Eskar turned, meeting Drago's gaze. There was no hesitation in his expression, only quiet resolve.
"I'm helping this one hatch."
Drago stared at him, conflict flickering across his face. After a brief pause, he spoke again, more carefully this time.
"You do realize that if it hatches, the Bloodscale will imprint on you, don't you?"
Eskar froze.
His eyes widened slightly, and he looked down at the egg in his arms, studying it as though seeing its full weight for the first time. He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he adjusted his grip, holding it more securely.
"…Now I do," he said at last.
He turned away and sat down, settling the egg carefully in his lap. Almost at once, his skin began to glow faintly, waves of controlled heat radiating outward, steady, deliberate, restrained.
Drago released a long, tired sigh. Without another word, he reached for the storage device once more. A bright glow erupted, swallowing the remaining eggs as they were pulled back inside. He sealed the device and slipped it into his pocket.
Vale watched him, a strange look on his face.
Drago noticed and shot him an irritated glare. "What?"
Vale scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Nothing. I just… didn't expect you to surrender one of the eggs that quickly."
Drago snorted. "Well, I did."
He lowered himself onto the still-warm sand and turned away. "Now leave me alone. I want to sleep."
Vale raised a brow. 'He's in a mood today,' he thought, but said nothing. Instead, he turned and walked toward Eskar.
Eskar sat quietly, the Bloodscale egg resting in his lap, his heat carefully regulated. Vale stopped in front of him and sat down as well, studying the egg with quiet fascination. He leaned forward slightly.
Eskar didn't strike him as someone seeking power. If anything, this choice felt… personal.
"Hey," Vale said softly, catching Eskar's attention. "Why are you saving it?"
Eskar looked at him, then back down at the egg.
For a long time, he didn't speak.
Vale sighed quietly. 'Seems like he doesn't know himself,' he thought.
Then, after a long pause, Eskar finally spoke.
"I think… this one somehow reminds me of myself."
Vale looked up at Eskar and remained silent for a moment. He studied the crimson-haired boy's expression, there was no uncertainty there, no hesitation. Just a quiet, honest conviction. Slowly, Vale let out a short chuckle.
"I see," he said softly. "I guess that reason suffices."
His gaze drifted back to the egg resting in Eskar's lap, and a gentle smile touched his lips. "Any idea how you're going to save it?"
Eskar smiled faintly and raised one hand. Almost immediately, it began to glow a bright, molten orange, waves of controlled heat radiating outward from his palm.
Vale whistled once. "Woah. Very smart," he said, his tone lightly sarcastic but approving.
He rose to his feet and turned toward the dunes. "I'll take first watch," Vale added over his shoulder. "Take good care of it, alright?"
With that, he left Eskar behind.
Eskar watched him go, a small, warm smile lingering, though it quickly faded, replaced by focus. Both of his arms began to glow now, heat carefully regulated as he wrapped himself protectively around the egg. He pressed close, allowing the shell to absorb his warmth, softening it little by little.
Vale climbed the dune slowly. Each step was measured, deliberate. By the time he reached the peak, the sun had fully slipped beyond the horizon. Darkness washed over the desert, broken only by the pale glow of the moon hanging low in the sky.
Vale sat down at the crest and stared out into the vast, silent night.
For a while, he smiled.
Then the smile faded.
The thought of the eggs crept back into his mind. Dying before ever experiencing life, before breath, before thought, felt like a cruel fate. Yet the longer he considered it, the less sharp the pain felt. That realization unsettled him.
His thoughts drifted to the temple. To Shade. To the endless training sessions where death was always just a misstep away. Perhaps the constant brush with mortality had dulled something inside him. Perhaps surviving had become its own reward, enough to outweigh everything else.
'Am I happy because I left the temple…'
'or because I don't have to face Shade every day anymore?'
Vale exhaled slowly.
He didn't know the answer, and he doubted he'd suddenly find it now. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had smiled for Drago. For Eskar. He had played his part well. But the truth was quieter, heavier.
His emotions were at an all-time low.
He knew more than ever about his past, yet less than he ever had about himself. The knowledge he had reclaimed offered no names, no faces, no path back to family or memory. It was information without comfort.
Sadness crept into his chest, slow and unwelcome.
'Who was I?'
'Who am I supposed to be?'
Vale clenched his jaw and let out a deep, weary sigh. "This sucks," he muttered to the empty night.
For a moment, he didn't fight it. He let the darkness wash over him, allowed the weight of his thoughts to pull him down like a swamp swallowing its prey.
Then,
The sand beneath him shifted.
Vale's eyes widened slightly as the desert guardian rose silently from the dunes before him. Moonlight traced the massive stone form as it emerged, ancient and patient.
Vale stared at it for a moment. Then, a faint, sad smile appeared on his face.
"…You here too, huh?"