The night stars hung heavily in the sky, their light piercing through the thick darkness and focusing on one singular building. It was tall, majestic, with sharp peaks like a citadel—but it wasn't quite one. It was more like a chieftain's house. Inside, a woman lay upon the bed, her body slick with sweat, her eyes narrowed in exhaustion.
She was no ordinary woman. Her eyes—slitted like a reptile's—glowed with an ethereal blue, lending her an air of mystery. Her features were as dragon-like as they were humanoid. Sharp horns jutted from the sides of her scalp, curving above her ears. Her wings—slightly leathery and strong—spread faintly, their bones jutting out like a warrior's blade. Her tail was thick, scaled, and lizard-like, with the elegance of a serpent but the strength of a beast. Her hair was pure white, as soft and fresh as snow. She had just given birth. To an egg.
Now, before you scoff, know this: it wasn't just any egg. It was a dragon's egg.
"We did it, dear! We did it! I'm a dad!" A man's voice broke through the air, loud and excited. He looked similar to the woman, though his features were fiercer—his wings dark and crimson like blood spilled from a recent battle, his tail spiky and powerful. His crimson eyes never left the egg, as if it held the world's most precious secret.
How could a humanoid woman lay a dragon egg? One could only imagine. The egg itself was a mix of black and white, with golden runes glowing across its surface. The moonlight pierced through the walls, bathing it in a sacred glow, as if the very stars themselves worshipped its existence.
"My love… I need to rest…" The woman's voice trembled as exhaustion overtook her. She could no longer stay awake. But just as her eyes closed, the egg in her arms trembled slightly. Energy rippled through the room, sending waves of power that washed over everything, filling the air with an aura that felt both ancient and new.
The woman's strength began to return, but not in the way she expected. The power coursing from the egg was unnervingly pure, and it frightened her instead of offering comfort.
"What is happening?" Thalrygos, the father, whispered in shock. His eyes widened in disbelief as he studied the egg. "The mana radiating from this child—it's higher than most Bloodmarked experts! It's so pure, it's overwhelming... I've never felt anything like it."
Thalrygos, chieftain of the dragon clan, was no stranger to power. His strength was legendary, and for him to be stunned by the birth of a child was almost unheard of. Yet, this… this was no ordinary birth. There had never been one like this before.
The egg pulsed once more, then fell into a deep, unnatural stillness. Runes along its obsidian-and-ivory shell shimmered like stars dragged through the fabric of time, spilling silent waves of energy that blanketed the room.
Why… am I alive?
The thought echoed from nowhere, and yet, everywhere within the sealed void.
Is this fate's joke? Or… is she still crying out to me?
There was no light, no air, no form—only darkness that stretched like the edge of creation itself. Yet the life inside bloomed. Not in flickers, but in vast surges—waves of energy blooming like lotus blossoms woven from mana and memory.
A small form stirred, curled in embryonic stillness.
I am not supposed to be here like this. I was meant to stabilize… to settle in the sixteenth major world of the Weaving Branch: Arakhor. I was to become the tether that holds the axis of time intact, to stop the collapse. The universe—my daughter—was dying.
A pause. Not one of hesitation, but of ancient ache.
She begged me to live. Even when I wished to vanish into the Endless Silence, she reached into the fracture of fate and whispered: "You must return as the god you once were."
He could hear her still.
"You are my only hope. Let me fuse your shard of space with my knowledge of time. Let me reforge you in the world where your soul was meant to go…"
But why am I conscious? Why can I still think, still remember, in this… fetal form?
The being inside curled tighter, talons not yet formed, wings not yet grown, but thoughts as ancient as the stars boiled through him.
I was the architect of reality. I carved time into rhythm and shaped space into song. I shattered galaxies for balance, breathed life into voids, and crushed those who dared defy the natural weave. Now I am… this. An unborn thing wrapped in flesh. A dragon egg, laid by mortals who have no idea what they've brought into the world.
So be it.
If I must crawl through this world once more to reclaim what was mine, to rebuild my daughter before she dies in her sleep, then I will.
Let them tremble. I am coming.
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Years passed, and still, the egg did not hatch. The entire village fell into silence, their worry heavy in the air, for the life that slumbered within. Typically, a dragon's egg would crack open in a matter of months. The stronger, purer-blooded ones might take nine or even ten months, but this one… it had become a lingering headache for every dragon of the Embercrest clan, the Volcaris, an ancient race of fire dragons capable of scorching the heavens themselves.
"Chieftain, it has been three years. The egg radiates life, but surely, the one inside has perished," an elder dragon spoke, his humanoid form tall and imposing. His features were like Thalrygos, but without the crimson wings that marked the chieftain's power.
"Nonsense!" A roar tore through the room like a clap of thunder, the sound vibrating deep into the bones of every listener. Thalrygos, the father, sat upon his bone throne, a figure of raw power and protective fury. Around him knelt twenty dragonkin, their heads bowed in submission. Elyssira, his mate, sat at his side on a smaller throne, cradling the egg gently, feeling the ebb and flow of life within. Her delicate fingers caressed the shell with a mother's tenderness.
"My child will be born," Thalrygos growled, his voice rumbling with a fury that could tear worlds asunder. "And none of you—none—will dare touch him." His eyes blazed with unrelenting rage as he rose from his throne. "If you lay a single finger on him, I will tear you to pieces!"
BOOM! A suffocating pressure exploded from him, carefully controlled to miss the egg, but enough to make every dragonkin bow their heads, kissing the ground in fear, unable even to look toward him.
My time has come...
A voice—soft, yet carrying the weight of ages—suddenly whispered within the egg. It was ancient, yet carried the unmistakable freshness of youth.
CRACK!
The egg split open with a sound that sent a shockwave through the room. A smell of pure, sweet mana filled the air, powerful and intoxicating. The expression of every dragonkin shifted to one of sheer terror, their gazes locked on the egg in Elyssira's arms, a realization dawning upon them that this was no ordinary birth.