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Chapter 19 - The Hatchlings

Yssha and Marcurio were sparring with Ralof and his team while Ahkrinbo was giving the rest a lesson in Dovahzul, when she heard wingbeats and Odahviing landed. "Mount up," he told them. "Fusmulgar's eggs are ready to hatch."

Nevan and Serana joined them in mounting Odahviing while Ralof and his team ran to Ahkrinbo and mounted as well. Both dragons took wing, and arrowed toward the Eastmarch hot springs.

Andreius and the touring group were finishing a late breakfast at the Windpeak Inn when they heard dragon wings and Odkiinbrii calling Arenim's name. They hurried outside, to find Odkiinbrii already crouched so they could mount. "Hurry! You will never see anything like this again!"

There were hundreds of dragons at the hot springs when Odahviing arrived, but space was made for him near Fusmulgar, by Farengar's tent, and more for Odkiinbrii when Yssha asked it. More arrived by the minute, most having to remain airborne, for lack of room within viewing distance on the ground. Elk and bear carcasses waited near the eggs.

Yssha went over to Fusmulgar and Farengar. "Drem yol lok, dii fahdonne," she said. "Why so many spectators? Or is this normal?"

Fusmulgar snorted a laugh. "Spectators for any hatching are normal, since even singles are rare. For an unprecedented four eggs at once? Any dovah who can possibly be here will be, even if he cannot see much, just to be able to say he was here."

Imiril approached, and bowed to the dragon. "Drem yol lok, Fusmulgar. Zu'u Imiril. I am honored to be here for such an auspicious happening."

"Drem yol lok, Imiril. That is most courteous of you, young one." She gape-grinned. "I understand congratulations are in order, and that your mate rides Odkiinbrii."

"Thank you, and yes, she does." Imiril smiled. Then he heard a sharp rapping noise, and turned to face it, seeing one of the eggs move. "Oh!"

He wasn't the only one staring at the dull, whitish ovoid. It was rocking, almost rolling over, then a small hole appeared, cracks spreading around it, and he gasped.

Yssha touched his shoulder. "Awesome, is it not? A child of Auri-El emerging into Mundus?"

"I wouldn't have said it like that, but yes." He looked down at her briefly, then back at the egg. The cracks were spreading rapidly, and the dragonet began to emerge, damp and clumsy, about the size of a large Nord man, struggling to spread its wings.

As soon as it emerged fully, it looked around and scrambled to the nearest carcass, a bear, and began tearing into it. A second egg began moving, then the third, and a couple of minutes later, the last. No more than ten minutes after the first sign of hatching, there were four dragonets tearing enthusiastically at their first breakfasts.

As they dried out and their color became more clear, Yssha smiled. They were a shade between Fusmulgar's purple and Odahviing's red, accented with black, and some white on the wings. "They are lovely," she said. "They will be awesome as adults, I am sure. How long will that take, do you know?"

"Far less time than you would think," Fusmulgar replied. "They start out so small only because they must fit in eggs a female dragon can lay. Once hatched, that limitation no longer applies, and their rate of growth is limited only by their food supply."

"Which will be quite generous," Odahviing said. "As with being here for the hatching, others will help hunt, just to be able to say they did. With an essentially unlimited food supply, they should be adult in a moon, perhaps a bit less."

"Wow!" Imiril exclaimed. "That's ... awesome. Uh, what will you name them?"

Fusmulgar rumbled a chuckle. "They are born with names, as they are born with our language and other basic knowledge. You can ask them, if you can catch them between eating, eliminating, and sleeping."

Yssha chuckled at that. She hadn't thought of it until then, but if they would be eating as much as Odahviing implied, they'd also be eliminating a lot. "I would hope they eliminate away from where they eat and sleep!"

"Of course." Fusmulgar gape-grinned. "Even a hatchling has enough magic to fly several hundred yards for that purpose. If they were birds, perhaps you would call them fledglings, straight out of the egg."

The first one had finished his meal, and approached Fusmulgar, rather clumsily. "Monah?"

"Geh, kiir?"

"Zu'u Lokmoroag, ko vahrukt do Lokmoroyol." The dragonet turned to Yssha. "Dii thur ahrk dii jud."

Yssha blinked back tears, and sensed awe from Lokmoroyol. When she composed herself, she gave the formal reply. "Zu'u Dovahkiin, hin thur ahrk hin jud," then added, "Naak ahrk naram, vahriini."

"I, um, didn't catch all of that," Imiril said. "Would you mind?"

"What part?"

"After Fusmulgar said, 'yes, child?'". Imiril said. "The dragonet said he was Sky Glory Burn, I think, but after that I lost it."

"'In memory of Lokmoroyol'," she replied. "Sky Glory Fire, who is one of the three always-awake souls within me. Then we went through him - or possibly her, I did not think to ask - calling me overlord and queen, and me accepting him. Then I told him to eat and grow."

"Thank you." Imiril turned to Fusmulgar. "They are born - I mean hatched - knowing her?"

The dragon shrugged. "I was created knowing who Alduin was, so why not? Most of us were created adult, and those who were hatched have almost the same knowledge, so yes. Unlike vodov, we must have full function quickly. On Akavir, to be otherwise would result in a swift death, and Bormah is not so wasteful."

"I think I understand." He hesitated, seeing a second dragonet approaching. "May I try?"

"If you wish." But to Imiril's disappointment, the dragonet bumbled past him as nothing but an ignorable obstacle, and approached Yssha.

"Zu'u Mirmulthur, dii thur ahrk dii jud," the dragonet said, still nibbling on a bit of bear. Yssha repeated her part of the ceremony, then turned to Imiril. "Please, do not be offended. This is a thing we must do, them acknowledging me as overlord and queen, and me acknowledging them. Though I did not know the recognition ceremony took place with hatchlings."

"I'm a king," Imiril reassured her. "I know how important fealty ceremonies are. I'd like to talk to one of them, though ... but I'm afraid my Dovahzul isn't good enough, and they may not know Common yet."

"They do not," Fusmulgar told him. "Common - or Cyrodiilic, if you prefer - is too new to have been encoded in dragon ancestral memory. But if you can find one awake after eating and pledging, I am sure one of the adults will translate."

When the third dragonet approached, it dropped a chunk of elk in front of Imiril and burped loudly before going to Yssha for the recognition ceremony. Imiril looked at Fusmulgar curiously. "What does that mean?"

Fusmulgar shrugged. "Suleykaar likes you? I do not know. This is not something I have ever seen."

Once the dragonet had finished the ceremony, it returned to Imiril, nudged him to the ground with its snout, and settled beside him, spreading a wing over the young Altmer. "Dii. Ahrk hin kiim ahrk kiirre, mafaeraak." Then it fell asleep.

Imiril squirmed under the wing for a couple of minutes, then decided he liked the feeling, and quit resisting.

Yssha approached him, chuckle-purring. "Do you require assistance, my young friend?"

"Actually, I rather like it under his wing, except that the ground is pretty damp. But I'd rather not disturb him."

"I think I can get enough weight off you so you can crawl out without waking him." She went to the first joint in the wing and lifted, slowly and gently, until Imiril was able to emerge.

When he stood and futilely brushed off his armor, she led him a bit away from the dragonet. "Were you able to understand what he told you?"

"Uh, part. 'Mine. And your something, and something else, forever." But what does it mean?"

It was Fusmulgar who replied. "It seems one of my kul has decided to take you, your wife, and your children under his protection, for as long as your line lasts."

"And his wife is my partner," Odkiinbrii said calmly. "So the Alinor royal family has two dovah protectors. Or will, when Suleykaar is an adult."

"Is this normal?" Yssha asked. "I do not have shared memories of any such thing, though I must admit that I have only six weeks of shared memories out of over four thousand years of thousands of dovah's experiences."

Fusmulgar gape-grinned. "It is not normal, Dovahkiin-thur. But you will have time to share as many memories as you wish, and will find that, while it is rare, it has happened before."

The final dragonet approached Yssha, introduced himself as Sahlokah, went through the ceremony, and fell asleep a few yards away.

With that, most of the dragons and riders departed. Half a dozen returned later to drop off several wolves, another bear, and two deer, then flew away again.

That left three dragons, four sleeping dragonets, and seven vodov at the hatching site. Imiril looked at them, grinning. "That was ... unexpected, but I like it. There's something about being under the wing of a dragon who obviously likes you, even if he knocked you over to provide it, that's ... incredibly reassuring."

Yssha smiled. "It is, yes. I have sheltered under Odahviing's wings a few times, and under Paarthurnax's I believe twice. Keep Suleykaar in your confidence, and in time, he will become an advisor - pruzaak. Literally, good guide."

Imiril nodded, smiling again. "I shall. A ruler needs good counsel, from anyone willing to give it."

"Just remember that good counsel doesn't mean telling you only what you want to hear," Andreius said wryly.

Imiril grimaced. "Father beat that into me several times, once he had me start to come to council meetings. I learned very early to be skeptical of advisors who agreed with me even most of the time." He sighed. "I was well trained for my job, if nothing else."

"Good." Andreius smiled, then turned to Fusmulgar. "You said about a month till he's adult?"

"Assuming the amount of food I expect them to get, that seems a reasonable estimate. Why?"

"Because I got the distinct impression that he's going to want to join Imiril as soon as he can, and we'll be traveling - I have no idea where we're going to be."

Odkiinbrii snorted a laugh. "He has only to Shout my name, and I will guide him to our group. As a safety measure, he will be unable to Shout until he is adult enough to know when and how to do so."

"He can talk, but not Shout?" Imiril asked. "That seems odd."

"Why?" Fusmulgar asked. "Bormahu is wise, and hatchlings' brains need to grow before they can be given the maturity He deems necessary to Shout. Even then, they will get the purely defensive ones first."

Imiril nodded, understanding. "I see. That makes sense, now."

"Yes, it does," Andreius said. "But it looks like the excitement's over, so let's get back to Dawnstar, pick up our horses, and head for Solitude. Imiril needs to see the official capital of Skyrim, after all."

When they landed at Dawnstar, though, they found a courier waiting. He approached Sorcalin, and bowed. "A letter from Jarl Nenya, Master Sorcalin."

"Thank you." Sorcalin opened the letter, read it, then carefully returned it to its envelope before turning to the others. "Another change of plans, it seems. Jarl Nenya has a werewolf problem, and would like our help."

"How bad?" Andreius asked.

"I won't be able to say for sure until I speak to her, but bad enough that he killed a little girl."

"They have him captive?" Imiril sounded disbelieving. "I didn't think that was possible!"

"He's in a cell in the basement of the Falkreath guard barracks. That's all I can tell you until we see him."

Andreius nodded. "We have to go, then. Let me pay for another couple of days for our horses, then if Odkiinbrii would be kind enough - ?"

"Of course," the dovah responded. "I will be waiting."