The wind howled through the rocks of the Five Blades Range, whistling like a thousand blades drawn from their sheaths. The sky, heavy and uniformly gray, seemed to crush the jagged peaks of the mountains, while a thick snowfall wrapped everything in a muffled silence. The pines, covered in ice, creaked under the weight of the snow, as if the mountain itself protested against the eternal winter.
Kael clutched his cloak tightly around him, struggling along the path almost erased by the snow. His scarf was frozen against the skin of his face, and his toes ached from the cold. He had gone out to gather firewood, as he did every winter morning, but that day something was pulling him away from the usual places. It wasn't a voice, nor a specific sound. Rather, a whisper in his blood. A calling.
He had always had a keen sense for what others failed to notice. As a child, while the others searched for berries under the snow and found none, he returned home with baskets full. He discovered hidden dens, ancient symbols carved in stone, passages no one else noticed. His mother used to say he had "called blood," a phrase in the villages that meant everything and nothing. But today that blood seemed to boil, agitated like a river under the ice.
He reached the cave by midmorning. Its entrance was hidden by an arch of stone and roots, as if the mountain itself wanted to keep it secret. He had never seen it before, yet it felt strangely familiar. Perhaps in a dream, or in one of the stories old Tormek used to tell him as a child.
The cave was silent as a tomb. The cold inside was dry, ancient, different from that of the snow. The walls glittered with blue crystals, pulsing with a light of their own. There was a strange smell: mineral, almost electric. The silence was absolute, broken only by his breathing and the faint creaking of his steps.
In the heart of the cave, on a bed of frozen moss, lay an oval object, as large as a barrel, with silver veins snaking across the surface like streams of liquid light. The egg was nestled among bluish stalagmites, as if the earth had birthed and protected it.
Kael approached, his mouth dry. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as if something enormous was about to happen. He reached out a trembling hand. As soon as he touched the egg's surface, a jolt passed through him – not pain, but pure, living energy. His eyes widened: he saw blue flames, endless skies, immense wings tearing through the air.
He was pulled into a vision. A dragon wrapped in lightning flew over a burning world, fighting against dark creatures and winged serpents. Then a light swallowed him. Kael awoke kneeling in the cave, trembling, sweating despite the cold.
A crack, thin as a hair, had formed on the egg's surface. And in the silence of the cave, Kael heard a sound not with his ears: a heartbeat. Deep, slow, powerful. The heart of the dragon.
He had no doubt: it was a dragon egg.
The stories told of the ancient bonds between men and dragons, when the first Bonded Ones rode the clouds and spoke to the stars. But then the Hunters had come, and the fire had been extinguished. No one believed a dragon could ever be born again.
Kael didn't know if what he had touched was a gift or a curse. But he knew he couldn't leave it there. He gathered the egg in his arms, wrapping it carefully in his fur cloak, and began the journey back. Every step felt lighter, as if the creature inside the egg helped him, recognized him. The snow fell more slowly, the wind had calmed. It was as if the world breathed with him.
Upon his return, the village of Lurien was wrapped in its usual quiet. The stone houses, covered in snow, smoked from their chimneys. Children ran with sleds and women hung herbs to dry under the eaves. No one noticed the burden under his cloak. No one heard the echo of the heartbeat.
He hid the egg in his attic, among blankets and rags, above his room. He spent hours staring at it, listening to its presence. That night, while the village slept and the fire burned low, it happened.
The egg lit up. The cracks multiplied. An inner light, silver and warm, pulsed like a newborn star. A high-pitched hiss spread, like a breath. Then a deep rumble.
With a soft crack, the shell broke. From the darkness emerged a creature of living silver, its scales as thin as metal leaves, its eyes blue as burning sapphires. Its wings were small, but already magnificent. Its tail swayed with grace, and pale, dreamy smoke came from its nostrils.
When it looked at Kael, it did not look like a hatchling. It looked as an equal. The bond was immediate and absolute. Like a blade slicing the air. Kael felt a wave of warmth rise through his chest and settle in his heart. A voice echoed inside him.
Raeyan.
It wasn't a name given. It was a name revealed. It belonged to the dragon. It belonged to him. And with it, a story began that would awaken the forgotten blood of the entire world.