Chapter 21 Thauglor
Thauglor
CRACK … SCRATCH … SCRATCH … CRACK …
I jolt upwards from where I’m laying, my heart thundering against my ribs as I rush over to the eggs.
I hear tiny claws scraping against the shells inside, instantly triggering a protective instinct.
Both eggs have cracks in them, spider-webbing across their gleaming surfaces like lightning against a night sky.
“Wake up!” I yell at the top of my lungs, my voice echoing off the stone walls of our chamber as I stare at the two cracks, the sound of scratching growing more urgent with each passing second.
Mina is the first to respond, her body tense with alertness as she climbs over Klauth and Abraxis, their startled grunts and shifting weights creating a cacophony of movement.
She reaches for the eggs, her scent sharpening with concern and excitement as she examines the cracks, her fingers hovering just above the surface as if afraid to touch them.
She turns and looks at me, her eyes wide and bright in the dim light of the chamber.
“We need to move them into the cavern so I can shift and help them if they need it,” she says, her voice tight with urgency.
I wrap my arms around Ziggy’s egg, feeling the warmth pulsing against my skin, the weight of it substantial and somehow fragile at the same time.
Abraxis takes his egg, his movements careful and measured as we follow Mina out of the egg chamber.
The shells feel almost vibrant beneath my touch, like holding something electric, and I can feel tiny movements within, the life inside responding to our contact.
Mina rushes into the main chamber just outside and shifts immediately, her body flowing from one form to another with a ripple of heat in the air.
She lays down, her massive form settling on the stone floor with a sound like distant thunder.
We carefully lay the eggs on their sides with the cracks facing up between her forelegs, the contrast of the eggshells against her metallic scales striking in the phosphorescent light of the cavern.
Her dragoness croons to the eggs, the tone more felt than heard, a vibration that resonates in my bones and chest. It’s a song of welcome, safety, and security that triggers ancient memories in my blood.
“Why did Mina shift? Her mom didn’t shift when she hatched,” Abraxis asks as he watches Mina nuzzle both eggs, her hot breath condensing on the shells, creating tiny droplets that catch the light.
“Wasn’t her mother collared? If she was, she couldn’t shift,” Leander mentions as we watch Ziggy approach Mina slowly, the air thick with anticipation and the mingled scents of our extended family.
“The cracks are bigger,” Ziggy says, his voice tight with excitement, his body practically vibrating with energy as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. The sound of cracking eggshell grows louder, like ice breaking on a frozen lake.
Everyone walks over slowly and leans against Mina’s foreleg, the heat from her body warming us through our clothing.
We watch the eggs move, rolling slightly from side to side as the cracks lengthen slowly, each new fissure revealing glimpses of what lies within.
The anticipation is almost painful, a physical pressure in my chest that makes it hard to breathe.
Claws peek out from the egg that is Ziggy’s progeny—they are silver like Mina’s and they pull down, taking part of the shell with it.
The sound of breaking shell is surprisingly loud in the quiet chamber, each piece that falls away hitting the stone floor with a delicate clink.
The other egg has a large triangle of shell on the ground next to it, the edges sharp and gleaming in the dim light.
A black snout with the egg tooth still on it peeks out, the tiny nostrils flaring as it takes its first breaths of air outside the shell.
“Can we help them?” Abraxis gets ready to climb over, his scent sharp with worry, and Mina lowers her head and pushes him back with surprising gentleness, considering her size.
She rumbles deep in her chest, the vibration traveling through the stone beneath our feet, a reassurance that the hatchlings are doing fine on their own.
“Mina said the babies have it under control,” I translate for the non-dragon family members, my voice rough with emotion I hadn’t expected to feel so strongly.
“I never got to witness hatchlings being born before,” Klauth laments as he leans further over Mina’s foreleg, his usual scent of brimstone now tinged with something softer, more vulnerable.
“Goddess willing, there will be many more births over our lifetimes to enjoy together,” he says, and I pat my oldest friend on his back, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath my palm.
All the loss he’s suffered over his long life—he needs to see happy, healthy hatchlings.
The thought sends an unexpected wave of tenderness through me.
The end of the egg that has Abraxis’s hatchling in it falls off with a wet crack, exposing the dark interior of the shell.
We wait anxiously for the little one to make its appearance, the air in the chamber almost too thick to breathe.
Soft chirps fill the cavern, the sound so pure and new it makes my throat tighten.
Mina lowers her head to it, her massive maw dwarfing the partially open egg.
A small black taloned hand comes out to touch her maw, the contrast between the tiny claws and her metallic scales stark and beautiful.
As she pulls back, the hatchling follows her and tumbles out of the egg, the wet sound of its body hitting the stone making us all lean forward in concern.
Large black wings spread out, helping to steady the hatchling, the membranes still damp and glistening in the dim light.
When it raises its head, two silver horns sit atop its head like Mina’s, catching the light like polished metal.
Turning its face towards us, it has that large flat plate on its forehead, like the black dragons of the family.
Its scales are rough like Mina’s but black like Abraxis’s, and still wet from the egg, giving them a glossy sheen.
Mina leans down and plucks the empty shell out from between her legs with a surprising delicacy for one so large, and looks her hatchling over, her massive eyes blinking slowly with maternal pride.
“It’s a fine baby, Mina,” I yell to her, my voice echoing in the cavern.
She nods her head before gently pushing the baby towards us with her snout, the gesture tender and trusting.
When the hatchling gets close to its mother’s leg, I reach over the side and lift it up, feeling the surprising weight of it in my hands, its body still warm and damp from the egg.
The hatchling stares into my eyes, its gaze deep and knowing in a way that catches me off guard, as if it’s searching for something in my soul.
Its tiny heart beats rapidly against my palms, its breath warm and sweet against my wrists.
Abraxis comes over to look at it, his footsteps quick and eager on the stone floor.
“My first hatchling,” he says, his voice thick with emotion as he reaches out to rest his hand on his baby’s back.
The hatchling turns to look at him, scales rustling softly with the movement.
The minute it lays eyes on him, it thrashes in my hands, trying to get to him.
It recognizes its father on some primal level that transcends understanding.
His hatchling is the size of a small dog and sturdy built, its weight substantial despite its newborn status.
He purrs to his child and rolls it over onto its back, revealing the paler scales of its belly.
His first born is female, and he has tears in his eyes, the scent of salt mixing with his natural pine and leather aroma.
“I have a daughter,” he says, his voice breaking on the last word as he cradles his daughter to his chest and wraps his wings around her, the rustle of membrane creating a cocoon of safety.
“She’s a fine hatchling, Abraxis,” Klauth says, resting a hand on his shoulder as he looks over at Ziggy’s egg, his expression a complex mixture of joy and old sorrow.
The end is off Ziggy’s egg, and the end of a green nose is sticking out, tiny whiskers twitching as they sample the air for the first time.
Ziggy shifts immediately, his body blurring as he transforms, and leaps in with his egg, waiting for his babies to emerge.
The anticipation in the air is almost tactile, pressing against my skin like a physical presence.
The first one slinks out, its body sleek and wet from the egg.
It’s black with green markings, its damp fur clinging to its body, revealing the unusual shape beneath.
It has six legs and tentacles covered in dragon scale, the combination beautiful and otherworldly.
Its face looks like a blend of feline and dragon, the features harmonious despite their disparate origins.
The second one, slightly smaller, has only four legs, and its front feet look like a dragon’s, the tiny claws clicking against the stone as it takes its first tentative steps.
Its fur is mostly green with black markings, its tentacles also covered in dragon scale.
They both look like a beautiful blend of dragon and feline as they slink around their father, their movements growing more confident with each passing moment.
“They look like they have scales under their fur,” I motion to the green hatchling as it moves, fascinated by the way the fur seems to shift in plates, as if it’s covering something more substantial beneath.
The fur moves in a way that suggests it’s covering scales, the underlying structure creating a rippling effect that catches the light.
Mina shifts back to her human form, the air around her shimmering with the change, and sits on the floor with what I suppose we can call kittens.
They move slowly on wobbly feet to their mother, their tiny paws making soft padding sounds on the stone.
She purrs deeply to them, the sound rich and soothing, comforting them as they approach.
As Mina reaches out to touch them, her fingers disappearing into their damp fur, she smiles, the expression transforming her face with maternal joy.
“They do have scales under their fur. Scales like mine,” she says, her voice filled with wonder.
Tears threaten to spill over as she checks out her babies, the salt scent of them mingling with her natural aroma.
“Two girls,” she announces with pride. Ziggy shifts back and hugs Mina as they both shed tears of joy, watching the kittens getting used to walking, their tentacles waving experimentally as they learn to control their bodies.
“Looks like we have three daughters to worry about,” Abraxis says as he sits his daughter down near its siblings. The hatchling chirping softly as it notices its new companions.
Mina looks the three little ones over, then looks up at me, her eyes bright with promise and future possibilities.
She mouths ‘you’re next’ to me, and I bow my head to her, a warm anticipation spreading through my body at the thought.
As a family, we sit on the ground forming a circle around where the hatchlings are, allowing them to come to us in their own time.
The stone is cold beneath us, but we hardly notice, too entranced by the new lives exploring their world.
“It’s a miracle to behold, watching the next generation take their first breaths,” I say as I pat Klauth on the shoulder, feeling the tension in his frame.
The moment is hitting him hard; I know deep down he wonders what his first clutch would have looked like if they had lived.
The thought sends a pang of sympathy through me for my old friend.
“Since Ziggy’s babies are half dragon, will they have a breath weapon?” Mina asks as she looks from her daughters over to Klauth and me, curiosity bright in her eyes.
“No clue, as far as I know, they are the first of their kind,” I say, then look over at Callan, his scientific mind already at work.
“We should keep a record of their lives for historical sake. Just in case any of our future progeny take a displacer beast as a mate.” The words feel strange on my tongue—so much has changed in the world since I was young.
Yet some things remain constant: the miracle of new life, the continuation of bloodlines.
Callan nods and looks over at Mina, his expression shifting from wonder to scientific interest. “Later, we should weigh all the babies and get a length measurement on them,” he says clinically before looking at Klauth and me.
“Just so no one feels singled out, to be fair.” His attempt at diplomacy is touching in its awkwardness.
“That’s a good idea, Callan,” I reply, appreciating his effort to include everyone.
He smiles, and I look down to see my newest descendant staring up at me.
Mina’s golden eyes stare up at me from a tiny face, and I understand now why they say hatchlings eclipse even your mate.
They become the center of your existence, a truth I feel settling into my bones as I meet that innocent gaze, the future of our kind cradled in this stone chamber, safe and new and perfect.