A few days later, after the fifth chapter of Romena's tale, Jarsha stood up from the stool to survey his work. Today's instalment had left everyone, small children to older adults – indeed, it seemed that Merrick and co. had spread the word of his awe-inducing story so much that now everyone attended, no matter what age they were – in a kind of dead, shocked silence. For, indeed, Jarsha had brought Romena up to the point where her life was hanging by the ghost of a thread – before her accursed enemy, King Palancar, without her friends and in the presence of a man who was literally devoid of goodness. Or, at least, one who kept it well-hidden at all times of the day if he did.
Anyway, there was everyone, calmly and dignifiedly talking about the chapter he'd just recounted to them. In a corner, he saw Merrick, Alden, and Nanette. With an excited bound, Jarsha made his way toward them.
He waved as he approached, then Nanette grinned cheerily and reached for her rucksack, which was tied across her shoulder. "Guess what happened, Jarsha?" she asked with a mischievous grin.
"Her dragon hatched!" interrupted Merrick before he could answer. Beside him, Alden nodded furiously.
"Well, how did it happen?" Jarsha queried. A pause. "And how come I wasn't there?"
Nanette smiled, passing a hand down the dark skin of her left forearm as she dropped down to the ground. "Er… I think it was because you were studying at the time." Embarrassed, she reddened faintly. "Well, I guess you'd better sit down. This is a long story."
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Nanette rose with a start before dawn. At first she was surprised by the shout of her younger sister, Tatiana, lying on the bed beside her. Then, quickly remembering why, she shook the seven year-old's shoulder.
"Calm down, Tati," she instructed as big blue eyes met calm dark ones. "I told you to wake me up – I didn't to tell you to wake up the rest of the house as well."
Tatiana only smiled mysteriously, giving a mischievous grin. "Well, you never said I couldn't," she said with a grin, then dropped down beside Nanette's bed to watch the proceedings. "I wanna watch your egg hatching" was the response to her sister's confused look.
Nanette shrugged and dropped down beside her, encircling her left hand tenderly around Tatiana's neck. As they intently watched the beautifully coloured egg perched on her dresser, she knew they would have to wait.
Tightening her hand's grip on the collar of Tati's nightrobe, she knew it would be a long wait.
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Sure enough, a few hours came and passed yet, as if nothing had happened, Nanette and Tatiana were still sitting there. Nanette's hand was still draped across Tatiana's shoulder; the younger sister's blue eyes were bleary, accentuating the sleep-deprived darkness of the bags under her eyes. Nanette herself felt strange; she didn't feel tired, but uptight and nervous. Her jaw was set, her muscles had gradually tensed, her hands clenched in tight balls – so this is what Rider Eragon must've felt before those wars started in Tronjheim and twice in the Burning Plains. Only this is much better – no one will be slain this time around.
And, when Nanette looked back on it later, it was indeed an estranged sentiment, considering that a dragon's hatching was supposed to be quite different. But if you asked her at that very moment how she felt, she would merely have said, "On edge."
So it came that, when the sun-coloured egg finally began to rattle furiously upon the dresser; Nanette's and Tatiana's eyes widened. Tati reached for the egg; gently, wordlessly, Nanette pulled her pale hand away from it. Frowning and focusing an intent gaze on the egg, which was now trembling, shaking, like a mini earthquake, she felt her breath come in quick gasps and her heart begin racing.
The egg rolled quickly across the dresser's lacquered surface from one end to the other, but miraculously never falling over the edge. It was as if the dragon concealed inside knew exactly what was going on outside his protective, harder-than-diamond shell.
Maybe he has second sight… But Nanette's thought was cut off as, all of a sudden, the egg halted, quivering, right in front of her. Her heart beating like the cadence of a thousand drums within her chest, Nanette raised a hand – barely realizing that it was trembling – toward the egg as she slowly, dazedly lifted herself up onto her feet.
But it smoothly moved away from her touch; with another sudden movement, a hole was punched open near the top of the egg. Out of this aperture a tiny snout protruded; a snout so tiny Nanette, who was watching the spectacle with bated breath, noted that it was smaller across then the width of Tatiana's hand. Likewise, it was followed by a head and a neck that was strangely long in proportion to the snout – though still quite tiny – and, in a rush of sticky, softly flapping wings, a dragon emerged.
Slick with the membrane that encased its whole body, the tiny reptile crawled out from between the slices of egg shell. Beginning to imperiously lick the glue-like substance that coated its sunbeam-coloured scales, it lifted its tail slightly; with this small movement, both Nanette and Tatiana were suddenly aware of the sunlight flaring outside the window. Yes, it was sunrise – or, at least, some small time after it – yet the beautiful ember rays were already streaking down and kissing the bronze spikes behind the dragon's ridged head with the light of dawn.
And, with a contented snort, the dragon slithered across the floor to Nanette and jumped into her lap. Nanette gave a start. She swore that she'd heard the words 'it seems I was a little late' in her head.
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"Doesn't he have a name?"
Nanette shook her head quickly to Jarsha's query. "No, I didn't give him one yet. As a matter of fact, I don't have any ideas." She paused, then lifted her left shoulder. "I don't know, but I think I'll go find Tati. She hasn't seen the dragon since yesterday morning." She grinned wryly. "So haven't I for that matter."
Watching as the young Surdan's body receded into the distance to find her sister, Jarsha was left to stare at her. "Bloodied Urgal, that was cryptic," he muttered to himself, since the little ones obviously couldn't be expected to know what a word like 'cryptic' meant.
Sure enough, it came: "What's cryptic mean, sir?"
Jarsha picked Merrick up as he fell to his knees, faithfully stroking Alden, who had followed to dozing during Nanette's recital. "It means, according to the online thesaurus arcane, enigmatic, hidden, unfathomable, evasive, and vague, among others." He paused, fingering Merrick's honey-dipped locks under his fingers. "Now where did that come from?" His face contorted in misunderstanding of that cryptic enigma. "Eh, what did I just say?"