Crack! Lynara's blue eyes flashed open. Her heart pounded rhythmically in her ears as she waited for the sound to come again. Crack! As quickly as she dared, Lynara slid from the bed and peered around the wall, looking down the staircase and into the main room of Anurin's house. She was faced with her teacher's pale features, outlined by the moonlight streaming through the small window. Lynara flinched, blinking away the garish image.

Crack! Her thoughts blurred by sleep, the half-human half-elf girl made her way down the staircase and into the low-ceilinged room. The embers from yesterday's fire smoldered in the depths of the fireplace. Anurin's candle had gone out. Crack! Lynara jumped, turning around and searching for the source of the noises. Her eyes rested on the green dragon egg that sat upon Anurin's desk. She watched it for a long moment, realization seeping through her consciousness like a slow-moving stream. Crack! The egg jolted and wobbled, and a tiny piece of shell popped up.

Breathing in ragged gasps, Lynara stepped forward to watch as more tiny pieces of eggshell were cracked away, falling to the desk. Little by little, an opening appeared in the top of the emerald-colored egg. The dragon was hatching.

In wonder, Lynara waited. She leaned against the edge of the desk, her gaze trained on the egg as a pile of tiny egg pieces grew around it. Inside, there was nothing but shadow. Then suddenly, a warbling chirp erupted from the depths of the egg. It echoed inside the tiny chamber. The sound tugged on Lynara's heartstrings, but she made no move towards the egg, still merely watching, and waiting.

Finally, just as the first light of dawn touched the tips of the trees, there came a shuddering scrape, and the egg split into two jagged pieces. Standing on the desk, draped in a sticky membrane, was a baby dragon. It had scales the color of new grass, of a deep stream, of dew-covered moss, and of pure emerald. Leathery, translucent jade wings were folded across its back. And two clear, faceted green eyes stared back at Lynara from the desk. She exhaled slowly, losing herself in the eyes of the baby dragon. It stared back at her pensively, its head cocked to one side. Then, suddenly, it released an earsplitting screech, revealing rows of tiny sharp teeth.

The sound woke Lynara from her daydreaming. Steeling herself and drawing in a deep breath to calm her raging heart, she reached her hand forward. The dragon eyed her fingers for a moment, and then jabbed its head forward faster than a striking snake. It's jaw closed around her finger, fangs biting deep into Lynara's pale skin. At that moment, a blast of icy pain shot up her arm, and blackness swept through her mind.

Lynara woke up some time later, with the light of the sun shining directly on her face. She blinked, and then propped herself on her elbows and looked around. She had fainted in the middle of the room, and appeared to have slept for a few hours at least. As she surveyed the room, the memories of that morning came flooding back. A baby dragon! She thought to herself, a smile creeping across her face. Than a bolt of pain brought her back to reality. She glanced at her right hand. The first thing she noticed was a smear of blood on her fingers, and the jagged wound that the dragon had inflicted when he bit her. The next was the glow that emanated from her palm. She lifted her hand to eye level and stared at the swirl of light that was now permanently tattooed upon her skin. There was no mistaking it: the gedwëy ignasia was burned into the pale flesh of her hand.

A picture suddenly formed in her mind, and not by her own bidding. It was merely a splash of colors, but the feeling connected to the image was obvious. Hunger.

Resignedly, Lynara rose fluidly to her feet, her sharp gaze doing a once-over of the room. All was as it had been that morning, except for one thing. The baby dragon had moved from its perch on the desk to the remaining chair, and was watching Lynara expectantly. The picture was thrust into her mind again, and this time she understood.

"You're hungry," she murmured to the dragon. Walking to the chair, Lynara extended her hand. She knew enough about dragons and dragon lore to be able to care for the dragon, but beyond that she was as ignorant as any Urgal or Dwarf. Living on the outskirts of society had its disadvantages.

One thing was more certain, though, and the now-faded scar on Lynara's palm was more than enough proof. This dragon had hatched for her, which would make her a Rider. Of all the possible things to happen in the world, this was the one the black-haired girl had least expected.

The dragon watched her intently as Lynara climbed through the door, and then crawled smoothly to the windowsill to watch as she leaped down through the branches of the oak tree to the smooth grass hollow beneath. Though, like all elves, she was loathe to take the life of another creature, the health of the baby dragon had become her first priority, and no amount of discomfort would alter her new mindset. Determined, Lynara took a step forward, opening her mind to the forest around her.

An indignant squawk interrupted her thoughts. She turned, her mind suddenly bombarded by a series of feelings: fear, anger, loneliness, frustration, and of course, the undercurrent of hunger. Lynara looked at up at the house, where the green dragon was leaning out over the edge of the windowsill, glaring at her as only a dragon could. She understood the meaning of its thoughts. It was afraid of being left alone, angry at her for walking away, frustrated that it could not fly after her, and ravenous.

Mustering her concentration, Lynara conjured up a thought-image of her own: Stay here, I bring food. She projected the image into the dragon's mind across the connection that now linked them, hoping to impress upon it the need to obey.

What she found on the other end of the link made her stumble back. Expecting a weak consciousness, Lynara was astounded at the depth of the dragon's mind. Despite that fact that it was a baby, it possessed a vast and alien awareness, developed of countless years biding time in its egg, the dragon was in fact incomparably intelligent, and the overarching feeling that dominated its thoughts for the moment was the feeling of impatience. It could not wait until it was old enough to voice its true thoughts to its new Rider. Shuddering, Lynara passed on her thought and then recoiled quickly from the dragon's mind.

The creature eyed her warily, accepting the image. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then gave a huff of resignation and curled into a ball on the windowsill. As Lynara walked away, a small tendril of thought worked its way into her mind, an emotion that she could only describe as limitless and everlasting love.