Now that Vulcan had the SkyWing egg, he had no idea what to do with it.

He had rescued the egg from a deadly fall down the mountainside, saving it from the wrath of Burn. Vulcan's wife had been struggling to have eggs for years, but countless hours trying to clone eggs or have their own had only worsened the wound of the fact that they would never have a dragonet to call their own. But on the other hand, a SkyWing egg was dangerous property. If the newborn inside was descended from a burnt-out BlazeWing, the dragonet would be taken away, leaving Vulcan and his wife childless.

Or was it a SkyWing egg? It was almost black like the egg of an obsidian CrystalWing, with just a tint of scarlet. The egg had scattered galaxy patterns, of the kind that you would see in the country, with no lights to black out the amazing star show. Such displays never were seen in the city that Vulcan lived in. Not fair, he thought.