In the incubation chamber, the moles were busy as they dealt with several of the eggs which had begun to show signs of hatching. Only three had been placed in the chamber. One was ensure that the eggs were removed from their stands so that when the young dragons hatched, they didn't fall and hurt themselves. The other mole was to walk around the room and watch the eggs for signs of hatching and alert the first mole, and provide assistance if needed. Finally the last mole was an extra hand, he would would in any way that was needed or he would deliver messages.
Already all three were busy, eggs were hatching left and right and the moles wanted to ensure none would be hurt. It had seemed as if all the eggs that would hatch had already shown signs of their hatching, the moles now huddled around the three eggs they had grabbed and watched intently as cracks spider webbed down the side of the eggs. They didn't even register the same sound coming from behind them.
It started out as a low rattle, as Boreas's egg began to shake in place. Cracks began to run along the sides of the egg and crack open. The moles didn't realize what was happening until finally they looked up, the three eggs the had gathered having finished hatching and three dragons stood there. Spotting Boreas's egg as pieces of the egg began to fall away, one mole quickly turned and ran, the elders would need to know about this, and it was his job to ensure they knew. The first mole however quickly rushed to grab the egg and carefully set it down, while the second mole was busy checking over the other eggs. Along with the first three eggs three more were hatching and they were quickly brought to the floor so that the moles could watch them.
Already light was beginning to shine through the missing pieces of egg, the sight of the white scales underneath caused the moles to hold their breath as they watched the dragon inside move about, trying to push the egg apart. More pieces fell as the wind dragon slammed his head through the egg shell. The egg crumbled and the young whelp fell to the floor on his back. He stayed that way for all but a few seconds before he rolled over onto his feet and began to look around.
Like the three dragons that had hatched moments ago, the wind dragon was looking for something important. He didn't know what it was called, but he knew it should be warm. The room he was in was warm yes, but it wasn't what he was looking for. He craved body heat. Unknown to him or any other newly hatched whelps, what the young dragon sought, was his mother. Crawling with his weakened legs, the wind whelp turned to find his mother but only saw moles.
Sadness was the first emotion the wind dragon felt. It was a deep and stinging emotion that he didn't fully understand, he didn't know why he was sad, he didn't understand what it meant to be sad. Truthfully he didn't know anything, could not even form proper thoughts, instinct and emotion alone were his sole guides and sorrow was all he knew for the moment.
The door to the incubation chamber opened as the three elders rushed inside. They scoured the room looking for Boreas's egg, but they could not find it, instead they found the wind dragon looking up at them with curiosity and sorrow in his eyes. Hope to lingered there, but the whelp knew the elders were not his mother, he felt no pull towards them, no immediate connection that all dragons have with the one who gave birth to them.
"By the Ancestors, a wind dragon!" Terrador said in awe. Even before knowing of the true nature of Boreas's egg, the elders were still in awe. Not many things could surprise them in their old age, but of course the return of a lost race of dragons would do that.
"Quite." Cyril affirmed in just as much awe as Terrador.
Volteer said nothing as he silently watched the young dragon, he looked up at the three elders in curiosity. "Boreas." Volteer simply said getting the two other elders to look at him.
"Come again chap?" Cyril asked in slight confusion.
"Boreas." He replied. "I think it's fitting for his name to be Boreas, it's what his mother wanted, she did call his egg Boreas after all."
"Indeed," Terrador said as he looked down at the young wind dragon. "It's funny though, he doesn't look much like a North wind right now"
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Boreas was warm. Though that was to say that he was wrapped tightly in a blanket and laid on a soft cushion inside of a fenced in area of the nursery. After he had hatched, Boreas had quickly been taken to the infirmary. Still in a state of sorrow he barely moved when the moles examined him. They checked his teeth and eyes to make sure he could see and eat. They checked his weight to ensure he was not underdeveloped or underweight.
Once the medical staff was sure that Boreas was healthy, he was quickly sent off to have his first meal, which consisted of bits of small meat and mashed food for easy consumption. Then he was wrapped in a blanket and placed on a warm pillow so that he could rest, however the time to rest had since passed, and with it all of yesterday. Boreas lashed out at the blanket that held him tight, his wish to escape and explore.
Tossing and turning he was able to throw the blanket off of him before he looked around him. His sorrow from yesterday was now gone, the instinct to find his mother gone as well, replaced instead with hunger. He did not have to wait long as already moles and dragons were flooding into the room where he and several other hatchlings had slept in. The room wasn't large enough to house all the dragons who had hatched, and as such they dragon hatchlings had been separated into several different rooms.
The moles and dragons alike held trays of food, though some remained empty handed so that they could corral the hatchlings to a feeder. Boreas was among the first wave of hatchlings to be feed, at the request of the elders. Breakfast for the hatchlings consisted of small bits of meat and milk. Once Boreas had been fed, he was quickly released and allowed to move about freely. His fine motor skills had yet to develop, however that did not stop Boreas from crawling around the room.
Other hatchling who had been fed and left to explore had taken an interest in Boreas. Moving closer they and he began to examine each other before one of the other hatchlings, a pink flame dragoness, playfully swatted at Boreas's snout. The other hatchlings thought this was funny and began to repeat the act on each other, Boreas meanwhile tried to swat back at the dragoness, but she moved away, her motor skills far more advanced having been born a few days prior.
Her ability to stumble away served only to frustrate Boreas, but try as he might, he couldn't stand to follow her. Dejected and angry Boreas sat and refused to move as he slowly began to pout. The dragoness found this funny and stumbled towards him before swatting his snout again. Angry at her joyus giggling, Boreas leaped forward and tackled the dragoness to the ground before swatting at her snout.
They stayed like that for a few seconds before both broke out in giggles and began to wrestle with each other. Other dragon whelps soon joined in. The caretakers did nothing to intervene, this was normal for dragon whelps, this was healthy, this would help them to establish a pecking order. The large wrestling match went on for awhile. Some whelps broke off to do other things others had fallen asleep. Boreas however was busy trying to walk.
The young drake had been among the first to break from the fighting and had isolated himself to a far corner of the nursery, where he would try to stand. His attempts were in vain of course, he would need to wait a few days for his legs to build enough strength to hold his body weight, for now though he would continue to fall to the ground until he got tired and sore from the repetitive action.
The morning soon passed into noon and the whelps were fed again before the caretakers began to play and interact with them. At first however the caretakers found it hard, some whelps would run or try to bite the caretakers. More than a few moles wound up with teeth marks luckily though blood had not been shead. The caretakers had to be vigilant, more than once had they 'misplaced' a whelp only to find them sleeping under a pile of toys.
Boreas however did not get a chance to play with any of the toys, nor did he get the chance to interact with the caretakers. Shortly after being fed one of the elders, Volteer, arrived and took Boreas. Placing the whelp on his back and headed for the meeting chamber. The old dragon didn't fear for Boreas falling off of his back, Young dragons had ridden on the backs of their parents, it was a safe spot for them.
Arriving at the meeting chamber, Volteer pushed the door open. Inside Cyril and Terrador, sat on their respective pillows, while Spyro and Cynder stood next to them. At the appearance of Volteer, they all straightened up as they watched the old electric dragon walk into the room. Laying on his own pillow, Volteer lowered himself as close to the ground as he could. Immediately Spyro moved forward and helped Boreas down before setting him on the ground.
"So this is a wind dragon?" Spyro asked as he lowered himself to the ground to get a better look at the whelp.
"Indeed. He doesn't look like much now, but when he grows older, Boreas will be the first wind dragon to rejoin our culture." Terrador replied as he watched the young wind dragon as he swatted at Spyro's snout.
"I think he likes you Spyro." Cynder giggled as she watched Boreas, who was now trying to bite Spyro.
"You really think so?" Spyro asked laughing himself before he gently pushed Boreas off of his snout.
"In any case, we thought it best if the three of you were introduced as soon as possible, while you will not be allowed to take him him with you, I can think of no better influence for the young dragon than the two of you." Terrador interrupted, turning all eyes to him. "Boreas will have a tough life ahead of him, being the only wind dragon we know of, the responsibility to rebuild his race will rest solely on him."
"That's hardly fair though Terrador!" Spyro replied with a sour note in his voice. "He's only a whelp."
"And as he grows he will face hardships." Cyril butted in, he held a look of sorrow on his face. It was clear he didn't like the thought himself but had little choice in the matter.
"I'm not just training him to use his breath am I?" Cynder asked the elders. The three looked to each other before nodding.
"No, you're not." Terrador said sighing, his voice cracking slightly as he looked down at Boreas. The whelp was currently trying to get Spyro's attention, the sounds of displeasure at being ignored were clear indications of his mood.
"Boreas is...rare." Volteer began speaking up for the first time since laying on his pillow. "As the only known wind dragon in existence his death would mean the end of his race indefinitely. In some respects he is even more rare than you Spyro."
"Huh? Really?" Spyro asked in confusion as he tilted his head slightly.
"Indeed. You see, if you were to die another purple dragon would appear in ten generations time. The purple dragon is a gift from the ancestors and will always hold a place in the world." Volteer explained getting nods from Terrador and Cyril. "Boreas however, is just a regular wind dragon. If his race dies out, they will never return."
"Cynder not only will you teach him to use his element, we are also expecting you to protect him" Cyril said to the dragoness, who looked surprised. "You must understand that without the wind dragons the dragon realms will be open to more disasters."
"Cyril is right. It was the job of all dragons to ensure peace. Fire dragons ensure volcano's do not erupt and cause undue damage, electric dragons soak up the extra lightning in the air to keep major thunderstorms at bay. Earth dragons help to keep earthquakes to a minimum, and ice dragons help to snow and blizzards from destroying crops and snowing people in." Terrador supplied.
"Wind dragons helped to keep tornadoes and hurricanes from major cities and populated areas, while the water dragons helped to redirect floods and tsunamis, with the water dragons gone however many towns and cities who lie on the edges of water fear they may be washed away." Cyril looked at the two heroes his expression serious.
"You will protect him, ensure he survives, and in time guide him." Terrador said as he turned his attention back to Boreas. The young whelp had since given up trying to gain Spyro's attention and was aimlessly wobbling around the room.
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A/N: Okay so there's a bit more backstory for the dragon races. It's not much but I'm still compiling some personal notes of mine. Anyways The next chapter is going to skip ahead a few years so that I can start writing in Boreas's perspective, although I've got some other projects that need my attention so when the next chapter comes out will be a surprise even for me.
Also I've got a cover for the story now so there's that for you guys. This was made in like...half an hour by a friend of mine. Obviously it's not really in the Spyro style as evidenced by the f***ing ear, but no worries it's still gives you guys something to look at, but I will say this. I love the way his tail came out and the tail will be explained in future chapters so don't worry about being confused about that.
