《Dragon storm: Beginning.》


 Prologue.

    Date: Day 482 of Experiment 2A43ZX5. Year: 2052


    Time: 0423


    We have been observing the interaction between subject 1643 and Exp. 2A43ZX5 for almost exactly 7 days at this point. We have found a few things that require reporting. First the experiment has gone farther this time than ever before. Usually we see failure before the completion of day 3. Either there is a rejection of the host on either side, or they are just not compatible enough. In every case, we found a half formed embryo that showed sever malformations, once we opened up the egg.


    That being said, we always had some sign of this happening. The subject would either find that he/she did not want to be in contact with the egg anymore, the egg would get very hard or brittle; or in one case, the subject actually became terribly ill and died after just 2 days of contact.


    This is the first time we have had a subject that has made it past day six of contact. As you know, we have added in a genetic requirement that will take seven days of contact before the egg will hatch. This is a requirement made by the US government, to keep the creatures from running wild. This way, none of these creatures will be able to survive without regular contact with their handler. This system, if we can make it work, will require the creature to have one hour of physical contact with his handler every seven days, otherwise they will perish. So far, this has become a waiting game. In the next two hours and approximately fifteen minutes, we will see if we have finally had a success.


    End Report.


    Dr. Jared Stanson, Geneticist.


    *******


    Leaning back from the desk, Jared stared at the computer screen for a few minutes before hitting the send button at exactly, 0430 like he did every day. Rubbing his hands over his face he felt the hard stubble on his cheeks like sand papertearing at his soft hands. He did not have the hands of a farmer. There were no callouses on his hands from hard work. Only the tips of his fingers were tough from tapping keys on a keyboard for 30 years.


    Looking back at his desk, he focused on a photo to the side of his monitor. Pictured was a young girl. She was only four in that picture and she was missing both her top front teeth. He had been separated from his family ten years ago, when the gas riots began. They were put into a special underground housing project by the government and he had been thrown into a think tank to come up with ideas. How do you save a planet full of lazy people who are completely dependent on fossil fuels when the fossil fuels are gone?


    His idea was to create andgenetically modify and build a new beast of burden. His daughter had always loved dragons. Her favorite bedtime story was an old novel that he had since he was a child. They would read it together every night, since she was three years old. They had finished the book 9 times before they were separated. He had not seen her for over ten years. So, a little over a year ago, when all the other projects were not putting forth enough of an impact to fix the situation, he put forth his idea. To his surprise, he was not completely laughed out of the room.


    Instead they had taken his idea very seriously. They had made several breakthroughs in the way of genetics in the past fifty years. Thus, here he sat, five minutes away from possibly creating a mythical beast which would be the main mode of transportation for most goods and services in the country. They would carry food and water and soldiers all over the place. The US would again be a military power. Assuming, of course that everything worked out as it should.


    Jared was pulled from his reverie by one of his lab assistants rushing into the room in a panic. "Sir!" Her voice was shrill and high, "There is activity from the egg, sir!"


    Standing, with a sigh, Jared could not bring himself to be excited. But, he dutifully moved into the observation room from his office. Directly ahead of him was a pane of glass which separated him from his experiment. On this side were several computers and machines that beeped and whined and printed out wavy patterned lines and symbols that people went to college for years just to understand. Crowded around the glass were his research assistants and other scientists.


    On the other side of the glass was a simple room, all in white, with a cot for a bed and a TV as well as a shelf of books. Leaning against the side of the cot, while watching the TV was the room''s sole living occupant. Jared could not recall his name, he only called the boy The Subject. Hestarted to feel bad about it a few months ago,butgotover it quickly, telling himself that he was keeping himself emotionallydistant from the experiment.


    The boy was only thirteen years old, he would turn fourteen in a few months if he had been processed correctly and his date of birth was correct in the system. The most important part was that he had already gone through puberty. This way his body had already gone through the changes to make him an adult. Otherwise the change later would be too much and would likely kill the creature growing in that egg.


    Speaking of the egg, it was slowly rocking back and forth minutely. The movements were only barely enough to see with the naked eye, however there were three machines dedicated to reading any movement in the egg alone. One focused solely on movement of the shell; another, movement inside the shell and the last studied any vibration of the air surrounding the shell. All three were currently flashing red and green lights showing a lot of activity in all three areas.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Stepping forward, Jared pressed the button next to the intercom so that he could speak to the subject. ¡°The egg is likely to hatch soon. It would be a good idea to hold it in your hands until the shell cracks, that way you can see what is going on.¡± The boy reacted immediately to the whine of the intercom and smiled wide at this news.


    ¡°I finally get my pet then?!¡± He ecstatically said, while following the instructions he was given.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, as long as you follow our directions it should work out. We do not want there to be another failure like last time.¡± A low blow by Jared. The Subject had cried for three days because he had rolled over in his sleep, breaking contact with the egg for six hours. The egg had died in that time and become useless. The contact could only be broken for one hour in every twenty-four hours or the loss of contact would be fatal. Once an egg had begun the hatching process it could not be paused or stopped.


    The look on the subject¡¯s face was both horrified and determined, as he picked up the egg and held it only inches from his face. It was not long before the egg began showing signs of cracking, near the top. As soon as the first crack showed, the lab assistants ran back to their machines and began shouting reports.


    ¡°Embryo is mobile inside the egg and seems fully formed!¡±


    ¡°Egg density has dropped over the last hour and shell has become thin and brittle!¡±


    ¡°Temperature of the egg has reached 92 degrees Farenheight¡­¡±


    ¡°Oxygen saturation in the room has been recorded at 83% and carbon dioxide¡­¡±


    ¡°Electronic fluctuations inside the egg being recorded are at level for high functioning nervous system¡­¡±


    They continued like this, recording every minute detail, including how fast the subject was breathing and how the oxygen saturation changed in the room for each breath. This continued until the egg had split open and instead of an egg in his hands, now there was a sleek and shiny reptile sitting in the subject¡¯s palms.


    Thus, a dragon was born. The first of its kind. The coloration was uniform and a deep crimson over the whole body and head. There were two horns growing form his snout, much like a rhinoceros. There were also two horns growing from the creature¡¯s forehead. They would grow out and curve around the sides of his head in the future. It had four legs proportionate to his body and wings growing out of his shoulders, though the wings were currently folded against his back. The tail extended out from behind the creature, half again his full length and ending in a spade shape that was hard and sharp on each side.


    The dragon was currently nuzzling the boy, rubbing his face against the chin of the child, making cooing and purring noises. They had finally done it. After over a year and hundreds of failures, they had finally created a dragon. ¡°Check and verify all saved info on the subject and the experiment. Verify all the files are saved properly and write up a schedule of known requirements and issues so that the experiment can be repeated.¡± Jared immediately called out, keeping the lab from celebrating. ¡°We do not know yet if the creature will even survive the next two hours or two years. This is still a work in progress people.¡±


    However what Jared did not know, was that there had been a person in his lab that was sabotaging his work. Many Hard core religious groups believed that cloning and doing things with genetics was both evil and blasphemy. One of his lab techs had been such a person. The other thing that he did not know was that even though they were in an underground base, they were not safe.


    They stood in a room, four hundred feet below ground. Below that, there were several areas for sleeping and recreation, food prep and storage and the bathrooms. Below that was empty space for a few floors, just air surrounded by concrete before the basic systems down below. The water filtration, electricity generator and so on. And, nestled in with all of that automated machinery was a bomb.


    Many of these religious groups had become violent in the past decade, taking the lives of government officials, scientists and even private citizens. If you advocated cloning, participated in cloning or received a cloned organ in an emergency transplant, you were a target of these people. The experiments that Jared was running was high on their list of transgressions worth killing for. For this reason, one of the young lab assistants sat in his room on the floor below and prayed for a few moments before pulling out a small radio transmitter.


    He believed that he would be able to stop these abominations from ever being created and set upon the world if he just blew them all up. So, he would die, but he would die for God. That was a worthy reason to give one¡¯s life yes? What he did not know was that every six seconds, every computer and machine was backed up to a hard drive that was set to disseminate all of the information on them in the event of any kind of emergency.


    In this way, the young man failed, without realizing it, the moment he pushed the button and the bomb went off. When the explosion went off, the lab techs were still celebrating quietly. Jared¡¯s last though in this world was of his daughter, before the electric generator went critical and exploded, essentially vaporizing the two floors above it. However it had been a full four seconds after the bomb went off before the generator blew. That gave the hard drive located in the lab plenty of time to upload all of its information on the internet and send it to every major laboratory in the country and then every major lab in the rest of the world.


    Thus began the age of dragons, as every laboratory in the world with the capability began manufacturing as many eggs as they could. They were paired up with presidents, kings and military personnel. These would be the new status symbols. These would be the new weapons. And, a few short decades after that, the dragon wars began and the world was destroyed anyway. Taken back to the age of swords and axes, technology too long destroyed and made illegal. The labs were abandoned, the dragons procreating like any normal animals.


    The whole world was sent to a time of myth and legend. A time of knights and dragons. And it was not a world that you would have wanted to live in. The dragon wars sent civilization spiraling down to the point that it was hard to make it past the age of twenty unless you signed up for the military. The world was run by the Dragon Lords and their armies.


    This is the world that went on for over two-hundred years, before James, was born. James, who will go on to live a fantastic life, full of adventure and sorrow, was born in the year 2245. And the day he became a man, was the day the world began to change for everyone. Whether it would be for the good of the people or not, was still to be seen. Because in the year 2261, when James turned 16¡­ He found a dragon egg.

 Chapter 1: Birthdays and Beginnings

    James woke up in the same bed he had been sleeping in since he was 3 years old. It was little more than a plank of wood with a thin blanket laid over the top. But it was home. The smell of coffee greeted him, as usual. His grandfather always had coffee made before he woke up. Sitting up he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Today was his sixteenth birthday. He had to a lot to do today. He had to go register as an adult and get his work certificate.


    James had been working with his grandfather for years in his salvage business. Through the use of explosives and hard labor, they dug out large chunks of steel and anything else precious they might find. His grandfather had a six square mile claim in the middle of what used to be a big city. They had done a lot of work over the years and his grandfather''s business was good enough that they never went hungry. Which, by most standards, that was really good. Over the past four years, James had been learning the trade from his grandfather and working as an apprentice salvage tech. Those years had a great impact on James. As he ran his hands over his face, he could barely feel the stubble of his three days growth through the thick calluses on his palms. Criss-crossing scars marked up and down his thick and ropey forearms, all the way to his shoulders. His chest remained mostly unscathed, due to the protective vests that they were required to wear. That vest had saved him several times.


    James realized he was stalling, as he ran his hand through his long greasy hair, deciding to cut it later. It is not that he was lazy. James was up with the sun, every day. And most days he didn''t go to bed till after dark. He simply did not know how to go about the things he had to do today. He needed to get his work permit and register as an adult for any possible future draft. He would have choices in the kind of work he would do. Each choice had good points and bad. The only three that he had any interest in were salvage, military service or laborer. Military service always comes with a big bonus. This is meant to help the family of the future soldier to survive without the added income of their child. The laborer tends to come with the next highest bonus as laborers are always needed but not really specialized. The salvage tech had a relatively small bonus but came with a lot of the equipment you would need to get started. That was what was expected of him, to follow his grandfather''s lead and go into salvage. His grandfather had likely even cut him out a piece of his claim, that he could call his own. His claim was a full six square miles and he had been working that claim himself for over thirty-five years, yet he had only completely worked through one square mile. This is also a promising set up. Mostly, because his grandfather would leave his claim to him when he died.


    No matter what he picked, his life was going to change today. The smell of coffee beckoned him from his bed, so James reached over with his left hand and pulled back the curtain that was his bedroom wall. Throwing his legs over the side of his bed, he was now sitting at the breakfast table. James'' house was... small. He could easily reach just about anything he needed from his current position; whether that be the coffee pot or the hot skillet filled with potato egg and sausage. He first reached for the coffee, knowing he needed some fortification to get through the day. A grunt was enough greeting for his grandfather. Neither of the two were morning people. They were always up with the dawn, they were just never happy about it. Pouring a cup of the strong, black sludge, that his grandfather called coffee, the ritual alone began to wake him up. Drinking half the cup in one go, he saw his grandpa had already taken his share of the food, so scraped the rest onto his own plate before he began eating. The taste of slightly burnt eggs and not quite cooked potatoes was familiar to him and reminded him of the years he had spent here.


    For thirteen years he had eaten the same breakfast. Slept in the same bed. Had the same gruff meal companion. But today everything would change. He would have to find his own place, a home that he could expand and build for a possible future wife and maybe children. Unless he went the military route. Then children were off limits unless you requested special dispensation and received permission. This was more because the army was co-ed than anything. Having pregnant soldiers running around would not do for the northern emperor. But the military would be the only way to realize his own dream. Ever since he was just a boy he had wanted one thing... to have his very own dragon. But, his grandfather was against the idea from the start.


    He had heard stories in town about the gruff and grouchy man sitting across from him. He looked like a man that knew how to work, with his long white beard and hair, bleached by the sun decades ago. Skin like leather with pink lines showing his scars and large knuckles. He could have easily been a fighter with fists like those. His grandfather was tough as nails. In his mid-fifties, he could still hold his own in the salvage game. Many of the town folk claimed he had been in the military for a part of his life. Some even claimed he had been a Rider. But, they say that he was discharged after some failure. Some say he lost his dragon. Others, that he slept with the wrong woman. The only thing that could be agreed on, was that he had come walking into town, over thirty years ago, with a young boy that called him father. That day he bought a few salvage claims and got to work.


    James had finished his food and looked up at the sound of his grandfather clearing his throat. "Today is an important day, Boy." He had called him that since he met James. "Today you choose your future. It is a choice all men must make on their own, so I will not attempt to sway you. Much like your father, I will simply say that I have done my best to make you the best and most capable man that I could. Regardless of what you choose, I will always be proud of you. Oh, and we must celebrate."


    At that, the old man reached up into a cupboard that usually held his bourbon and tobacco, but instead pulled out a lovely little cake. The frosting was chocolate and the cake beneath was likely the same. Chocolate was James'' favorite. "There is no way we can afford that, Grandfather! Why would you waste money on a cake? That must have cost two months earnings!" James was somewhat surprised at the appearance of the cake. Sugar was taxed extremely heavily and cocoa was just ridiculous.


    "Three, actually," the old man quietly retorted, as though uninterested in the argument, as he cut the cake into two pieces. "Didn''t wanna make it myself, woulda ruined it. So I paid the midwife in town another months earnings, so she would make the cake." Sliding his portion into his dirty plate, he made a show of eating. Wanting to be mad though, repeatedly remembering that this was his last day here. Looking into the cake in front of him, James decided to enjoy the time he had.


    "Thank you, for the cake grandfather. It is my favorite flavor and I will cherish the memory." With that, they ate. And, once they were finished, James got dressed and left. He had things to get done and his grandfather had settled in for a day off. After James had said goodbye, his grandfather had told him to come by when he was done and he would have a few things for him. With that, James climbed up the ladder on the other side of his bed and out of the hatch that was his door. Closing the hatch behind him, he straightened up his cotton T-shirt and brushed dirt off his trusty blue jeans, before starting on his way to town. His ever present, thick soled, steel toed work boots kept his feet from feeling the jagged stones strewn about the ground on his walk.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    His home was, to put it simply, a wasteland. Large portions of destroyed skyscrapers still reached several stories into the sky, dotting the horizon like distant and far flung mountains. They also reached deep beneath the ground he was currently walking on. He knew this because he had excavated a few with his grandfather, some going so far into the ground he thought they would fall out the bottom. But the bottom is what held the best prize. The old electrical generators that ran these buildings, held an alloy that was ten times stronger and more ductile than steel and worth fifty times as much. The best weapons and armor were made of that alloy. The local constable called it blue steel, though James'' grandfather said that the man that invented it, called it mithril. He never knew why they would do that. The name did not even sound cool.


    The walk to town was a long one, though only about three miles in a straight line, one could never walk a straight line in a salvage area. Fallowing a path of green stakes that claimed a safe path, took James on a zig-zagging and twisting road that ended up being more like six miles of actual walking. It took a little less than two hours to get there, but by the time James arrived, it was obvious that the town was just waking itself up. Ramshackle wooden buildings sprung up on the outskirts, followed closely by more permanent and expensive brick and mortar buildings. At the center of town was the local constables office, probably the only building that was actually held up with steel beams and seamless stone on the outside. James had been inside before, on a few occasions, but today, he did not need to go inside. What he needed was around behind the office. He needed to go see the governor.


    Walking around the side of the building, he found the man he was looking for, sitting at a desk, under a canopy. The man in question was the governor and, to put it kindly, he was ugly. Or, as his grandfather put it, you could put dog shit in a blender, throw in gravel and moldy bread and the end result would still look better than our scarred up, one armed, one eyed governor who, was even more scarred up than James and his grandfather combined. He was also not alone. Less than tweny feet away, sat a large green and blue mottled dragon. Well, relatively large anyway.


    This was one of the smaller breed of dragon, used mostly for scouting and strafing ground forces. James'' grandfather always said they were quick and scrappy little devils. Of course, by little he means that a full grown specimen is just under fifty feet from nose to tail, with half again in wingspan. However, compared to the heavyweight beasts, flying for the emperor, this guy was scrawny. The dragon yawned, showing a long thin purple tongue and rows upon rows of serrated triangular teeth, that were as big as James'' open palm. He was not worried however, as long as he didn''t threaten the dragon''s rider, he would be safe. Walking up to the governor''s desk, he stopped a few feet away and waited in respectful silence to be recognized.


    The governor was not in any hurry however and left him waiting there for a full five minutes, shuffling through random papers. This was likely just to ensure that James had become a more patient man. Ten years ago, he had yelled at the man after only a few minutes wait. Apparently, he was still being punished for that. Rather than sigh or fidget, he stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back and his eyes glued to the top of the governor''s head. He knew any fidgeting or signs that he was in a hurry would only cause a longer wait. Thus, he stood there silently until the man recognized his presence.


    "Oh! Hello there James, I did not see you there. What brings you here today?" The line was delivered with a wide and friendly smile, only somewhat ruined by the lack of an eye in his left socket and that side of his face drooping slightly.


    "You know why I am here, governor Taylor. I need to register as an adult and get my work permit." James'' answer was a flat monotone, only because he knew it would piss the governor off. "I am curious, has the bonus schedule changed, since two years ago?" The corner of his lip almost twitched.


    The governor''s eye on the other hand, was definitely twitching. "Yes."


    "Good to know, thanks."


    "Indeed."


    "Mmmm."


    They stared at one another for another five minutes, the governor alternately growling, mumbling and twitching to the point of near spasms. James retained his schooled look of indifference. At the full five minute mark, the governor slammed his fist on the desk and the dragon raised his head and roared over James'' head. He did not even flinch.


    "God damn you! James you are the son of a whore! You know that pisses me the fuck off!" The governors face was nearly purple. This time James could not help but laugh. The dragon seemed to join him, making odd chuffing noises through his throat. "You too, you overgrown, off colored cow! If I wanted your opinion, I would supply you with one!" After a few more minutes of them laughing at him, the governor began to join in. After a few minutes of good, deep belly laughter, the governor sobered and sat back in his chair, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I ''ave missed you, young man!"


    "I have missed you too, governor Taylor. Not many people are that easy to manipulate." With a wink and a smirk, he showed the governor it was all in good fun.


    "Right, well, it is time for you to fill out your draft papers and pick your profession. I told you some things have changed. The bonus for military service commitments has gone from twenty to thirty gold. This is likely because another territory war looms on the horizon. If you plan to pick that, I would suggest that you leave half the bonus with your grandaddy. Chances are good you will not live long enough to spend the full bonus." He said this with a heavy weight in his voice, making sure James understood he was serious and would not continue until James acknowledged the statement, with a nod and a gulp.


    I suppose that takes the military out of the options. If they are planning a war in the near future, they will send raw recruits to be talon-fodder, until the battalions get there.


    "The laborer profession bonus has gone down, from fifteen gold to ten, plus about sixty silver worth of equipment." The governor shuffled some papers around, going over five or six others, some including transportation to the work site. Finally he got to the last one that James was interested in. "The bonus for salvage has gone up from five gold to eight and 40 silver. It also includes a couple gold worth of equipment and a level three blaster''s license. You will also receive two crates of dynamite and one full order of blasting caps as well as your standard two thousand yards of burning fuse."


    James allowed himself to go deep into thought about this decision. It was easy to say that he dismissed military service out of hand, but who is to say he would definitely not survive? Still, his grandfather expected him to go salvage and it was a job he knew how to do. The job also came with a monthly upkeep of a few sets of clothes and two of those nearly indestructible vests. In the end, he chose salvage.


    "James Procella, I hereby declare, in the name of the emperor, that you are fit to work in his name for the betterment of our empire."


    "I swear to do so, on my honor and life as an empire citizen." James replied solemnly.


    He was immediately given a bag of coin and vouchers for the equipment from the general store, signed by the governor. Included was his legal work permit. With this in hand he went to the store to get the equipment set aside. He could not carry it all, but he did take a full case of dynamite and the fuse, plus both of the vests. Taking the items, he headed home. He had a lot of work to do and from now on, he would be doing it alone. But he walked with a purpose all the way back to his grandfather''s house.

 Chapter 2: Walking Your Own Path.

    Even loaded down with equipment, James made the journey back to his grandfather''s house in near record time. There was no hiding his excitement, as he walked along the path of green markers. When he arrived, he walked past the two hatches that led into his and his grandfather''s beds, heading instead to the small shed like building a hundred feet away. After removing the lock with his key, he deposited his new equipment just inside the door. There were stacks of crates inside, all marked as extremely dangerous. Most held dynamite, while a few held things his grandfather wanted kept safe, like his supply of bourbon. Closing and re-locking the door, he headed back to his familiar hatch, pulling it open before he dropped in. Landing on his bed, amidst a heavy fog of tobacco smoke, he went to a seated position across from his, now snoring loudly, grandfather.


    His grandfather was still in an upright, seated position, a lit pipe in one hand and an empty glass in the other. The half empty bottle of bourbon told the story of what had happened. Just a normal day off for his grandfather. Also on the table was a map. The map showed the local salvage area and all registered claims in the area. Most were small numbered blocks or long skinny lines. Right in the middle was a large nearly square chunk, with his grandfather''s name written in the middle. Like the last tooth in an old man''s mouth, there was a squared off off-shoot to the southern end. This was circled repeatedly and a handwrittenJameswas in the center of it.


    Knowing that his grandfather had already cut out a bit of his claim for him made James'' chest feel warm. It was small, maybe a half mile square, but it was also untouched. That was a very kind thing for his grandfather to do. He could easily have given him a claim that was already half picked over, or one of the areas where they had excavated all the generator cores from. But, instead, he had given him virgin territory. James'' smile was so wide, his face hurt. He did not know how to show this old man how much he appreciated this. Overt displays of affection just made them both uncomfortable. Instead, he resolved to be the kind of man that his grandfather could always be proud of. He would live well, the way his grandfather taught him. He made this promise to himself in all seriousness, knowing it would mean hard decisions in the future.


    While James was staring at the table, thinking hard on his future, his grandfather woke with a snort. "Gah! Boy, I did not realize you were back already." His pipe moved to the corner of his mouth, to be chewed on since the tobacco had gone out. "I told you that I would have some things for you, when you got back. You already found the first." A nod to the map showed his meaning. "But there is more you will need."


    James nodded his head, expecting a lecture. What he did not expect, was his grandfather retrieving a long bundle of cotton rags and laying it across the table. It was nearly four feet long, from end to end and around eight inches at the widest point. "What is that grandfather? I have never seen it before."


    "That is because we have had a peaceful life, since you came here. However, you may not have the same in the future. And so, I pass you this, so that you can defend yourself and those that need your help." Unwrapping the bundle revealed a long, beautiful sword. It was plain, no embellishments or jewels, just the blade and cross-guard with a rounded pommel at the bottom. The whole thing seemed to be made from a single piece of metal. The blade shined, showing it had been carefully tended. But, it was the dark blue and rippling tint to the metal that took his breath away.


    Mithril!


    He sat there, open-mouthed, for a while. He simply stared at the sword. When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from it, they landed on his grandfather, who wore a knowing grin. Before he could form the words he needed, his grandfather held up a hand. "Before you go and refuse, know that this is one of a set of twins. I am keeping the other for myself. You could easily take this blade inland and sell it, buy yourself a big farm and live out your days comfortably." He slid the blade across the table. "Or, you can live a hard life, with this blade at your hip and work for every penny you have, knowing that if you must you can at least go down swinging."


    It was not even a choice for James. The thought of living out his days on a farm had some slight appeal. But, nothing drew him more than a sense of adventure. And salvage was an adventure every day. Reaching forward, he reverently took the sword. "Thank you, grandfather. I will cherish this for the rest of my days. And, if need be, use it as you would." Bowing his head, he had to swallow hard to get the lump out of his throat. With his head down, he did not notice his grandfather wiping away a tear.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Hearing his grandfather clear his throat, James looked up. "What profession did you choose, anyway?"


    The implication was clear. His grandfather had meant to give him this, regardless of what he chose. Even if he had chosen to go against his wishes and join the military, his grandfather accepted him. This time he could not stop the slow flow of tears as he bent his head again. He could sense his grandfather shuffling uncomfortably at the show of emotion. "Salvage," The word was choked out slowly, but it came.


    He could hear the gentle smile in his grandfather''s voice when he replied. "Would you change your mind, knowing what you do now?" James could only shake his head, in the negative. "Then I am doubly proud of you, James."


    The use of his name shocked him so much he looked directly at his grandfather, stupefied. He simply scratched his cheek and looked away, embarrassed. "Well, you''re a man now, so I cannot keep callin'' ya boy, can I?" This brought the smile back to James'' face.


    "If it is alright, I would like to keep calling you grandfather. Switching to your given name would feel... weird." This made his grandfather smile again as well.


    "Of course, James. I will always be your grandfather. And I am here for you, if you ever need me." James nodded his head and looked back at the sword before propping it against the table. Looking back, he saw his grandfather was pulling out a few more bundles. "The last few things I want to give you are important as well. These two bundles," he indicated two of the larger bundles, "are books. Most are simple stories, written to entertain. But, some hold knowledge that only a fool would snub his nose at."


    Pushing the bundles across the table, he grabbed a pack from beneath the table and tossed that to him as well. It was a sturdy leather pack, with two shoulder straps and a set of straps to tie around his middle. He loaded both bundles of books inside for now. "These last two items are different. The first," he grabbed a small leather sack, which jingled as he picked it up, "your share of the earnings, from the years you helped me. I took out a small bourbon tax, for teaching you the trade, of course."


    He tossed the bag to James, who caught it deftly. It was heavy, heavier than the purse he got that morning for choosing. He immediately squirreled it away, in his bag. It would be rude to count it now, after all. His eyes finally fell on the last package. His grandfather regarded the package as well, for a long moment, seeming to be deep in thought. Finally, without looking up, he began to speak.


    "James, you have known me most of your life. You have learned who I am, as a man. You have known a salvage tech, who is brusque and grumpy. A drinking man, that smokes more than is healthy and lives for two things. His work and watching his grandson grow into a man to be proud of. It is true that I am this man. However," he laid his hand on the final, small bundle, "I am also this man. This is a journal I kept as a younger man. I recorded my thoughts, feelings and life in this journal. I stopped, shortly after I arrived here. I give you this, so that you can learn from my mistakes. I also want you to learn that a man does not need to be as one sided as he seems. The world is not black and white. In these pages, you will learn that the world is colored in shades of grey.


    "I thought about keeping this from you, as I do not want to change the way you think of me. However, I decided that would be wrong. You deserve to know the truth about who I am, and by extension, who you are. No man can truly be his own man until he understands where he came from. I leave you to form your own conclusions from this. I have put this life behind me." With that, he slid the final bundle across the table and nodded to James, who took it with care and placed it gently in his pack. "Now, how about a drink with your grandfather and we have dinner together one more time? It is too late to get started today anyway. What do you say?"


    James readily agreed and the rest of the evening was spent drinking, eating and telling stories about the townsfolk that they had met over the years. There was a lot of laughter and they stayed up like that until very late that night. Even so, they were both awake and drinking coffee before the sun came up. They both had work to do today, and so they parted with a quick hug after breakfast. James headed toward his claim, wearing one of his new vests and carrying the rest of his equipment in the pack his grandfather had given him. On his hip was the sword he had been given, resting in a well-worn but good quality leather scabbard his grandfather gave him that morning. When he had buckled it on, he felt like a true adventurer. The weight of it on his hip was comforting as he walked toward his future.

 Chapter 3: Blast From the Past.

    It took James nearly an hour to walk to his new claim, zig-zagging and winding through the safe path. By the time he arrived at the edge of it, the sun had fully risen beyond the horizon. Using the map his grandfather had given him, made finding the claim quite easy. Especially since, upon arrival, he saw that his grandfather had already come by and staked the area out; complete with danger signs showing that explosives would be used in the area. Again, he felt immense gratitude toward the man that raised him. The most time consuming part had already been done.


    That meant that he could move straight to checking the ground for weak points and sinkholes. Finding a large length of rebar, he began walking through his claim, testing each step with a few hard pokes of the metal. Every weak spot he found was circled with red flags. He would come back later and collapse them himself, when he had the time. This took a couple of hours to complete and when he was finished he stopped for a quick breakfast of hard biscuit and water. After he ate, he decided to get started. He remembered seeing what might have been a shaft, leading down; it was around the southwest edge of his claim and covered by a large slab of concrete. He could blast away that slab easily and perhaps find a stable place to make his new home beneath. It would be a great place, being only about a half an hour walk to the southern edge of town. Walking back to that point, he easily found the slab he was looking for, marked with a blue flag. There were several of these, scattered throughout his claim. They showed points of interest to be investigated later.


    Arriving at the slab in question, he began the laborious process of finding cracks and crevices to drill into so that he could place his charges. Once he had a plan, the real work began, drilling and then placing the charges in such a way as to blast the slab away from the shaft opening. Adding the fuse so that they would blow almost simultaneously, he began backing away, letting the fuse trail out behind him from the spool. As he went, he looked for something large and heavy to hide behind.Too bad Richter''s mom isn''t around!He chuckled at his own mean-spirited joke for quite a while. He was about fifty feet away before he found a large corner stone to hide behind. He kept chuckling, randomly, at his own thoughts, while he hid behind the stone and cut the fuse. Putting the spool back in his pack, he retrieved his lighter and started rolling the flint wheel.


    Once the fuse was finally lit, he watched it march away from him, around the stone. Putting the lighter away, he pulled his pack up over his head, covered his ears and put his head between his knees. Butterflies were at war in his stomach, while he waited. This part always made him nervous. If he had made a single mistake, he would be dead or maimed soon. He could have done some calculations in his head, to count down to the explosion. But not knowing was better. Kept him from getting tense. Thus, he was fairly relaxed when the explosion came. Rumbling up through his feet a split second before it hit him in the chest like a physical thing. The rumble in the ground seemed a bit off, more violent than it should be. For a split second he thought perhaps he had used too much explosive. Though he immediately dismissed that thought.


    Is it not interesting, the way a single choice can alter the whole course of events for the entire world? If James had done a single thing differently, his life would have been much different. If he had not been chuckling to himself, he would have noticed the other large rock, some twenty feet away. It was larger and more sturdy looking than this one. Or he could have gone around, collapsing the weak spots, before getting started on the real work. There were a hundred different instances where James would have avoided his fate, lived his whole life as he intended. He would have grown old, found a wife and had many children. He would have died as an old man, wrinkled and leathery from years in the sun; surrounded by his family as he drew his last breath.


    But, alas, that was not what fate had planned for him. In the second after the explosion, James did not think about any of this. As the ground fell out from under him and he began to fall into the darkness below, he had one thought:Well, fuck me sideways and call me Sally.


    ****************************


    Pain. When James woke, he felt that his whole world was made up of that one feeling. Every beat of his heart was felt in the throbbing of his head as it felt ready to explode. All over his body, there was a burning sting to accompany the bass that was his throbbing head. His life was a harmonic symphony of pain as he lay there in the darkness. There was a moment of panic, before he realized that he could still make out vague shapes. Light was at least somewhat getting to him, keeping the darkness from being absolute. He could see that he was not buried by debris and he could make each of his limbs move, though sluggishly at first. He sat up, grabbing his head as it made clear the fact that the earlier pain was just a playful warning. Once the pain died down enough to be bearable, he took in his surroundings.


    He sat at the bottom of a steep ramp of debris that led up and away from him. He could see the smallest speck of daylight toward the top, meaning it was either far away or only a little bit made it through. His pack lay a few feet away, partially buried beneath a pile of dirt and small stones. Immediately, he retrieved it and pulled out his canteen to wash the dust from his mouth. Putting the canteen away when he was done, he pulled out a torch and lit it with his trusty lighter. Light flooded his surroundings, letting him get his first good look at the situation. After a quick glance at the ramp, he put it behind him to look at the rest of the room he was in.


    The ceiling was smooth, directly above him, ending behind him in a jagged, broken way. In front. The ceiling went on farther than his light revealed. The ground he was on continued to slope down until it became level, about ten feet away. The room he was in was only about twenty feet wide, as he could see both walls to his left and right, white paint peeling off of reinforced concrete. Scooting down the rest of the debris, he decided to check out the room. When he got to level floor, James stood slowly, testing the ground twice before committing his full weight to any step. The floor seemed sturdy, though covered in a thick carpet that maintained its squishiness. This was disconcerting at first, but James eventually got used to it. The room turned out to be empty, except for a door at the far end. It was roughly forty feet from where he landed to the door. To his surprise the door was wooden and still quite solid. Most wood in these places had given in to dry rot years ago. Reaching for the handle after running his hand over the ornate door, James stopped for a moment.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    A cold sense of foreboding came over him as he grabbed the door handle. He did not understand why, but he felt like something very bad was about to happen. He felt the fear settle on his shoulders like a thick blanket, cold and unforgiving. He let it lay there for a moment before physically shaking it off and turning the handle. When the door swung open and let the light in, James was stupefied. He had stumbled on a horde. His grandfather had talked about them, places where wealthy people had kept their valuables that somehow survived. All around the room was a thick wooden bench, covered in gold, silver, platinum and even a medium sized crate full of mithril ingots. Judging by the thick dust and stale air, no one had been here in decades, perhaps centuries. Walking further into the room, he found jade statues of dragons and large locked chests with contents unknown. It was the end of the room he wanted most, however. After walking more than fifty feet, a fireplace resolved itself from the gloom. Sitting on the mantel were two mithril daggers in ornate sheaths, pommels pointing towards the sides of the room. In between those was another large box.


    This box was half as tall as he was and made of a material so black it seemed to drink the light in. Walking slowly toward the box James began to feel giddy. He recalled stories of people finding hordes like this. Sometimes, they held relics. Items from the past, like a machine that could tell you where you were or guns that fired light so intense it would burn a hole through steel in a moment. They ran on batteries that never died, powered by an energy that they had been unable to replicate since the fall of the world. Basic electricity was easy, though rare, as war was a common thing and power stations were always a first target. Coming finally to the box, he found he could not find a seam to open it. Pushing against the top half, he was shocked into letting it fall closed again, without a sound.


    It was not the fact that it opened with almost no effort, or that the substance it was made of seemed to be tungsten, an ore that even unrefined, begged a hefty price. It was what he saw as it vegan to open. Steeling himself against the fear he felt start to engulf him, he opened the box all the way, holding his breath until the light found the object inside. Opening the box fully, he let out an explosive breath of relief. The shadow he had seen had so reminded him of a dragon egg, he had panicked. But what lay inside was not the porcelain white or splotchy yellows, browns, reds and greens of the empires dragon eggs. Sitting in a cushion of red velvet was an egg shaped item that was even more perfectly black than the box it called home.


    If he had to guess, a noble in years past had commissioned the work to look like an egg. It was roughly two feet tall and almost a foot at its widest point. The outside looked smooth but held no gloss from being polished. If this two was a large chunk of tungsten, then James had struck rich! He could buy a whole fief for himself, become a count in the country. He could perhaps even afford to grease enough wheels to find himself a barony. He would take his grandfather and they would live the good life, free of hard work and la-...


    James had reached out and laid his palm against the outside of the object. As soon as his hand made contact he felt a static shock, making his hand clench on the object and noticed that it was not smooth but rather very finely pebbled on the outside. This was James'' last cogent thought before he lost consciousness for the second time in a single day. His first day as a salvage tech was not going so well...


    ************


    She had told her rider how she felt about the way things were going in the imperial court. He had listened to her concerns with patience and understanding. After watching him think for long minutes, he had finally decided she was right. Her egg could not be trusted to the court like usual. Looking down inti his dark eyes, she felt his acceptance. The egg she carried would be secreted away and kept safe, far from the machinations of the nobles and backstabbing courtiers. She felt for her rider. He held a heavy weight on his shoulders. He was the Grand Emperor after all, supreme leader of the world and First Wing of the dragon rebellion. He wanted to lead the world to peace and prosperity.


    However, too many of his ''friends'' and nobles wanted more power. Where he and a select few had joined the rebellion against the governments of the world to stop their treatment of the dragons and their riders, many joined only for more power. Why stop at taking out the governments? Why not split the world up and let each of them be king of their own little world? Because more fighting was inevitable, as each tried to expand their territory. And so, as the sun fell to the west, the Emperor came out to meet her, wearing all black, including a mask over his face. If it weren''t for his scent then Stormwing would have thought about attacking him. Instead she sent him her feelings of affection.


    He climbed aboard her back and they began the long flight to his safe-house. It was hours of flying in the cold mist of the clouds before he finally sent her a thought, ''Go lower, my dear. We are almost at our destination.'' She was elated by this, as keeping her egg inside was becoming incredibly difficult and painful. Lowering her altitude, she saw tall buildings, as far as the eye could see. One, in particular, emitted a faint infrared light, which she was able to see, with her dragon eyes. Aiming for it, they soon landed on the small roof. It was only about two hundred feet wide, barely enough to accommodate her. Her rider slid down her foreleg and onto the rooftop.


    ''You can let it out now and I will carry it to safety below.'' His thoughts were a balm to her mind.


    ''Would you like to say anything, for your son?'' She sent her reply, gently, as his mind was as weak as the rest of his species. Watching him closely, she saw him fall into thought deeply before opening his mouth to reply.


    "I am Robert Ellesworth, First Wing of the United Dragon Riders and Grand Emperor of the world. If anything happens to me, I have instructed Stormwing to bring my son to this place. This egg is yours by right of blood. Hatch the dragon inside and live as the kind of man I know you can be. I love you, my son. Goodbye."


    With these words, he put on leather gloves and walked towards her rear. She craned her neck to watch him, letting the egg slide down and out. She watched as he picked it up, still covered in the offal of birth and attached to her by a cord. With a sharp tug, he pulled.


    Everything went black.

 Chapter 4: Breaking the News to Grandpa.

    When James came to, he found himself in perfect darkness. There was no difference between having his eyes open or closed. There was a heavy weight on his chest and his hands felt unusually warm. When he moved his hands the weight on his chest shifted. For a moment he began to panic, thinking that he might be in a cave-in. The dream he had just had would be easily explained by head trauma. However, when he tried to move his hands apart, he found that they would not release what they were holding. He could feel the slight roundedness of it, the pebbled exterior, but he could not make his hands let go. Sitting up, slowly, he let the object fall into his lap and then the true panic began. What if it wasn''t a dream? If that was true, then what he held in his hands was...Oh, no. Fuck that! There is no way! I am not THAT unlucky!


    ''It was not a dream James. And what you hold is, indeed, my egg.''


    "Who said that?!" Looking around wildly, James stood, his breath coming hot and quick. "Light a torch so I can see you! I am armed!"Technically, I mean, I have a sword. I just can''t use it because this stupid egg won''t let my hands go!


    ''You do not need your sword. I understand why you are afraid, I have looked into your mind. That is why you got the memory from me. There must always be an exchange.'' The voice was back, but he realized now that it wasn''t coming from inside the room. It was inside his head. It was also distinctly female. He felt like he knew the voice, but he could not place it. ''You do not need to be afraid. A normal hatching would alert the dragons of a wide area, but I have suppressed my mind to keep this secret. Do not worry James, you are safe, for now.''


    This was exactly what he was afraid of. He remembered stories of unsanctioned hatches being fallen upon by every imperial dragon within a ten mile radius. It was highly illegal to have a dragon, without the endorsement of the Emperor. There was more panic for a moment, as James felt like he was going to suffocate from the fear. Suddenly he remembered his grandfather''s words and heard them clearly in his mind, ''It is fine to feel fear. But letting it control you, that could be your end. Let it settle upon you and then shake it off. Take it off like a wool cloak when the summer sun gets too warm.''And so, James let it settle, felt it close in on him as his breathing slowed. Then he shook it off, feeling like his world had become lighter.


    ''Your grandfather is a wise man.''Great, the voice was back. But, he needed to get this situation under control and come to terms with it.


    "So, if you are a dragon, that makes me your rider, right?"


    ''Yes, that is correct, James.''


    "That means you have to obey me?" He could not help speaking out loud, directing thoughts towards darkness just felt... weird.


    ''Again, that is correct. If you ask me, I will release your hold on me and let you leave me here to die. What happens from here is your choice, entirely.''


    James could not lie to himself, the thought had entered his mind. But now, he was shamed by that thought. How could he leave an intelligent creature here, alone in the dark, to die? For no other reason than fearing for his own life? His grandfather would be ashamed of him.With a sigh, he gave into the inevitable. He would become a dragon rider after all. A small ball of excitement began in the pit of his stomach began, but he stopped its growth immediately. This was not all bad, but he could not celebrate such a thing. "Fine. How about you release me from holding on to you so that I can light up a torch, OK?"


    ''As you wish, James...'' There was a moment where it felt like she hesitated, as if afraid. ''Do not dally, as I can only last an hour without being in contact with you before I will die.'' At that, he found that his hands finally let go of the egg. He had to react quickly or he would drop it. Lowering himself to the floor, he sat cross legged, laying the egg in his lap. Slinging his pack in front of him he found his lighter and lit a flame to see by. With that, it was easy enough to find a torch and light it.


    Looking down at the egg, he thought again of leaving it. But, that moment of hesitation, that moment of fear, made up his mind. Whatever failings this creature had, they were not her fault. She could not alter the situation any more than she had. already she had done more than he had hoped by shielding her mind from the other dragons. Without that, he surely would have been dead already. And she had showed trust in him, to make the right decision. It was only fair that he trust her as well.


    Reaching down, he slowly laid his palm against the top of the egg, feeling as there was nearly a spasm of electricity, holding his hand in place. He could feel the remnant of fear as the connection was remade. The hopelessness of not knowing what would happen. "You really thought I might leave you here to die, didn''t you?"


    ''....y-yes. I could not know for sure. As soon as the connection was broken, I was alone again, like I have been for so long... It was a terrifying experience. To have a connection, and then to lose it, possibly forever. It was... a humbling experience.'' The admission held a ring of truth to it. Something about it seemed more like a confession than a simple statement.


    "Well, you do not need to worry. I have decided that I will be your rider. That may not go very well for either of us, but we will have to be in this together, from now on." In truth, James had no idea how to go about being a Dragon Rider. All he knew about it were the stories he had heard in the pubs and the town square. All of those were stories about Riders that had done great things, fought in great battles or defeated a large number of enemies against all odds. He could not imagine himself being one of these heroes.


    He knew the basics about how to use a sword, because his grandfather had taught him. In fact, he could probably use one better than his grandfather now, since the pain in his joints made his footwork slow and his style would falter now and again. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. "Why can I hear you in my mind?"


    ''All dragons can speak to their riders this way. In fact, almost all of them do. Some prefer to learn to write or make the sounds of your language with their own voices, but most just speak in the dragon tongue and send their words through thought to their rider. Most riders do not even realize that this is happening, assuming that they just "know" what their dragons are saying or feeling.''


    Well, that explained a lot. But that also begged another question, "How do you know these things? You have not even been born yet."


    ''I know because it is what dragons know. We pass our memories down from mother to child through our cells. Each cell in our bodies holds our memories and they are all connected to one another. I hold the memories of my line, since the first born of my kin.'' This was relayed with a lecturing tone, as though James should have known the answer. James decided to go with one of his grandfather''s favorite sayings from when he was a child that asked too many questions. ''Because, magic, that''s why.'' The thought brought a smile to his face.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    "Right, so, let¡¯s get down to business then and figure out what we are going to do." James began, trying to make a plan for how things might work out without him or his new dragon dying within the next few days. "We cannot stay here, because I need to eat and you will need room to grow, once you hatch. We can''t leave because being seen with a dragon egg would mean my immediate death or detainment.


    If I leave at night, we can get away, but then we will have to keep to the wild and avoid soldiers patrolling the inland as well as the farms and towns out there. Which means that It will be extra difficult for me to find food. If I can supply first, that will help, but only for so long." Thinking about this whole situation was depressing. Even in a room full of money and expensive items, he was going to be screwed.


    ''Why don''t you buy a horse and cart. You could tell the Governor that you are going to go work salvage in another place, because you had a falling out with your grandfather, or you want to see the world or something. Either way, he may grant you a travel permit. And, with this kind of money, a horse and cart would not be hard to afford. That way you could even take most of this with you. Though I would suggest getting a false bottom or something to hide all the money and such. No good reason to invite bandits to attack you.''


    James was surprised to get a completely logical assessment from a creature that had not even been technically born yet. Talking to his grandfather was an especially good idea. He knew that he could trust the old man and hopefully the news would not give him a heart attack or anything. He could leave the old man with the rest of the items that he could not carry with him and he would know that he left his grandfather to live out his days comfortably. "Alright, we will have to go see my grandfather, but we should wait until the sun goes down to do any traveling. That way I don''t have to think of some fancy way to hide you. Will you be able to hide your presence from the local dragons when we are above ground?"


    ''That should not be a problem. I will simply keep my mind confined to yours. It will be much like sleeping for me, but my dreams will be what you are experiencing. However, our connection right now is weak, So we will have to keep physical contact for it to work. Otherwise I have to withdraw my mind completely; which, to be frank, is very frightening.''


    Suddenly, James felt how she felt when she was like that. The feeling of being so completely alone and cut off from the world that time loses all meaning. She had stayed like that for over a hundred years, if James was remembering his history properly. He shook his head slowly, trying hard to keep the tears that had filled his eyes form falling. He would do everything he could dokeep that from happening. Even if he had to strap her to his stomach. Hmm, there is a thought. Why don''t we do that? then if people see me in the dark, they will just thinkI have a gut. Won''t work for thegovernoror anyone I knowvery well, but from a distance... yeah thatcould work. James was quickly excited by theidea and hurriedly madeabit of a sling, outof an older long sleeved shirt.Taking off the shirt he was wearing, he tied the waistband of the old shirt around his waist and then tied the armsaround his neck. After getting it done the best he could, one handed, he slide the egg in.


    "You will have to let me let go with my hand, so that you can sit in the sling. Then I can make adjustments. Otherwise, when we need this thing to be sturdy, you will be falling out the side, because you would not let me take the time now."


    ''You make a compelling argument James. Be gentle with me, please.'' With that, he felt his hand relax, though unlike before, they did not lose their connection. This was because she was already resting safely against his hard abdomen. James was not a small man by any stretch of the imagination. While he was lean from hard work and lack of proper food while growing up, he was also rather bulky in places. He was wide in the shoulders and deep in the chest. His arms and legs were very well muscled but not so bulgy that it was displeasing to the eye. He was a well-defined specimen of a human male. And now, he looked like he had grown a beer gut in the last five minutes.


    After a few adjustments with the old shirt, he was able to make it fit around him suitably well and to keep the egg tight against his stomach without moving around as he walked, jogged, ran and even sprinted from one end of the room to the other. He ended up with a multiple strapped monstrosity that would be hell to take off, when the time came for that. With his sling prepared, he headed out of the room and made his way to the ramp up and out. The only things he took with him were the twin mithril daggers that he buckled on each side of his hips. One went right next to his sword and the other balanced out his load.


    Getting to the bottom of the ramp, he looked up and out, seeing the light was still there but had more of an orange tint from sunset. Slowly and carefully, he made his way up the ramp of debris. It took nearly fifteen minutes to get to the top, he guessed that it was a distance of almost a hundred feet. Reaching the top of the slope and standing straight up, he was chest and shoulders above the ground. He was able to easily pull himself out and get on his feet. The air was already cooling off in the late hour. By the time he was up out of the hole, the sun was just an orange hazy smudge on the horizon. Feeling pretty confident James made his way to his grandfather''s home. By the time he got there, the sun was completely gone from the sky and the stars were out in all their glory.


    ''The stars are beautiful here. There are so many up there.''


    "Didn''t your mother come through here, on her way to drop you off? I would have though you would remember the stars." Taking a moment, he looked up at the sky, seeing the countless stars shining back at him. They really were beautiful, when one took the time to see them. He had grown up with these stars, but he could feel his dragon''s sense of wonder and happiness at seeing them now, even through his eyes. For the first time, they truly agreed on something.


    After taking a few moments to appreciate the celestial view, James moved forward and opened his old hatch. He took his time climbing down, very careful not to bump the egg against any hard metal objects. Once he got to the bottom and sat down, he noticed his grandfather sitting across the table, match still poised above a fresh pipe of tobacco, burned out without being used. His grandfather just stared for a minute before he regained his senses and grabbed another match. Lighting his pipe, he took a few puffs before pointing the stem at James. "There¡¯s a story to be told here, and I''ll be havin'' it. Elsewise, you might find you¡¯re welcome here has turned sour with my mood."


    The serious look on his grandfather''s face worried James until he remembered that his grandfather hated surprises and not knowing what is going on. So, James explained... everything. He told him about his claim and the mistake he made on day one. He told him of all the things he found in that room and he told him of his new dragon egg. He even told him about the vision he had, when he grabbed the egg. In the end, he told his grandfather of his plan to leave, to buy a horse and carriage and leave the coast. He told him about how he planned to go through with the hatching and become a true dragon rider. "From that point, I don''t really have a plan, but I am sure that something will come to me." With that, he had run out of words. So, he waited for his grandfather to speak.


    It was a full ten minutes of watching his grandfather puff away at his pipe silently, staring at the protrusion under his shirt before he spoke. "What''s her name?"


    James was at a complete loss. He had not even thought of giving her a name. Though perhaps...''I do not have a name yet. Nor will I until you give me one.'' James'' mouth fell open in shock.


    How the fuck am I supposed to come up with a name?!


    *giggle giggle* ''Not my problem.''