River was glad they were exempt from training the following day. Still, everyone who had taken part in the delve was required to gather for a formal debrief, a more in-depth review of their performance.

  River, Albert, Amalia. Plus, two others a sharp-eyed girl named Tamira and a quiet boy named Ashwin—had received mostly positive feedback. Kamir noted that they had effectively covered each other’s weaknesses by moving as a unit. However, he warned that they needed to work on how they reacted when surprised by traps or creatures acting unpredictably. The other five delvers weren’t so lucky. Kamir chewed them out for freezing mid-combat and contributing nothing to the team’s efforts. Still, he added—somewhat gruffly—that it wasn’t entirely unnatural. Even some of the best delvers, he said, had reacted that way their first time. The comment surprised River—and in some strange way, it relieved him. More importantly, it seemed to boost Albert and Amalia’s confidence. For the first time since arriving in Varosha, they looked like they believed they belonged. Even as foreigners, they had begun to understand the cultural weight of delving. That night, they sat together in the kitchen—eggs in their laps, the table cluttered with half-eaten food. They talked and laughed for hours, replaying every moment of the dungeon. Each of them seemed surprised by the others’ quick thinking, by how well they'd fought together down there. As the evening deepened, Albert and Amalia eventually drifted off to bed, their exhaustion finally catching up with them.

  River stayed behind. He sat at the kitchen table, his egg placed gently between his elbows, warm beneath his palms. Time slipped away as his thoughts sank into the quiet rhythm of its presence—until a sound broke through the stillness. A soft crack. It came from the other room, subtle but sharp in the stillness that had filled the house. He shot up and hurried to Albert’s egg. It wasn’t just reacting to essence; it was moving. Cracks splintered across its surface, and inside… something shifted.

  “Look!” River called, shaking Albert awake. Albert groaned, but as soon as he saw the egg, sleep vanished from his face. Amalia joined them seconds later, blinking away the haze. The three of them gathered around the egg, breath held, eyes wide. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours—watching, waiting, each crack revealing more. And then, with one final snap, the shell broke. A trunk pushed free of the green surface. River stared in awe. He had never seen anything like it. It had a broad trunk, flared ears, and rough, bark-like skin. Patches of green moss covered its back, clinging like fur. But its eyes… its eyes were what truly stopped him. They were wide, intelligent—deep, almost human in the way they scanned the room. It wasn’t just alive.

  It was aware. It didn’t linger long on Amalia or River. The creature turned its head, eyes locking on Albert. Then, with great effort, it staggered forward—awkward but determined. And then nestled its moss-covered face into his outstretched palm. As River watched, he saw the joy spread across Albert’s face—and though he was happy for him, he couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of envy. His egg hadn’t hatched. River stood. “We should get Kamir.”

  The sight of his friend so happy should have made him smile—and it did. But it also stirred uninvited feelings of envy and anxiety. That instant connection, the bond—they were things he longed for. And though he tried to push the thought away, he couldn’t shake the growing worry that something was wrong with his egg. Albert didn’t even seem to hear him, too focused on the creature curled in his arms. But Amalia glanced over and nodded. “Good idea.”

  She didn’t move, though, more captivated by the small being before them than the idea of finding their mentor. River went on his own. The night was warm and quiet. River didn’t mind the walk, though a part of him wished he could’ve stayed and watched the little creature a while longer. As he reached Kamir’s home, nerves fluttered in his chest. What if Kamir was angry about being disturbed? He took a breath and knocked. Before he could knock again, the door opened. A fully dressed Kamir stood there, his massive wolf at his side. He didn’t look tired or act tired.

  Did this man ever rest?

  River blinked, then said simply, “Albert’s egg hatched.”

  Kamir’s eyes widened, just slightly. “Already? That was fast.”

  Without another word, he stepped back inside and returned with a backpack River couldn’t quite make out. Then he began walking toward the house, silent as always. They moved quickly through the night and before he knew it, they were back home. River watched Kamir approach the creature. For a moment, the man’s eyes widened, and a rare grin tugged at the edge of his mouth—a reaction so rare, it had to mean something. It must mean something. But almost instantly, it vanished beneath his usual stony expression.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “He’s beautiful,” Kamir said, his voice softer than normal. Albert looked up. “She.” River wasn’t sure how Albert knew. But he didn’t question it. Kamir gave a small nod. “She’s from a high-tier dungeon. Very rare.” River’s brow furrowed. He remembered Kamir mentioning something about this earlier. “Remember, all bonded eggs in Varosha are gathered from dungeons,” he said. “The harder the dungeon, the better the egg’s quality.” River did remember that. The moment had just slipped his mind—lost in the awe of it all. “They're created the same way as the monsters—by the dungeon’s will. But if taken before the essence corrupts them, they hatch peacefully. Like this one.” River looked down at the creature, now dozing in Albert’s arms. Kamir stepped closer and reached out a hand, placing it gently on the creature’s mossy head. It barely reacted, shifting slightly under his touch but not waking. Then, with a swift motion, Kamir pulled a small square pillow and a pouch of food from his pack. He set them down on the table beside Albert. “She can sleep on this,” he said. “And she should eat this.”

  Albert nodded and, without so much as a word seemed to somehow communicate with the creature in his arms. A moment later, it stirred, blinked sleepily, and climbed down onto the table. It waddled over to the food Kamir had placed and began to eat—devouring it with quick, greedy gulps. Once finished, it let out a small huff, curled up on the pillow, and fell asleep almost instantly. The others sat there in awe, watching the entire thing unfold like it was some quiet miracle. River, still stunned, finally asked, “What’s her name?” Albert didn’t even pause. He answered as if he’d always known—with an aura of confidence that seemed to rise from nowhere.

  “Tessa.”

  And that was that.

  The three of them sat there in silence for the rest of the night—transfixed. Albert’s egg had been the first to hatch—but over the next two days, a few other students’ creatures emerged as well. Two wolves and what looked like a leopard had joined the ranks of Varosha’s bonded. But none of them drew as much attention as little Tessa.

  She followed Albert everywhere, waddling close at his heels. During training, she would sit near the edge of the ring, eyes wide and locked onto every movement. Once, she nearly rushed in to defend him when Amalia charged during a spar. Albert had knelt beside her afterward, murmuring something soft, and she hadn’t interrupted again. River had never seen Albert so happy. And though he smiled with them, a part of him couldn't help but feel afraid. His egg remained still.

  Then, during an evening willpower training session, it happened again. A crack—sudden, distinct, echoing from one of the eggs. But not his. Kamir jerked upright, pulling back mid-attack and rushing toward the sound. His composure dropped in an instant. He knelt beside the egg, eyes wide, lips parted like a boy seeing magic for the first time.

  River turned, and saw Amalia frozen in place, eyes wide. It was her egg. She ran over, dropping to her knees as the cracks deepened. They all gathered, even Tessa, who waddled in curiously, tail flicking. Then, a small snout poked through the shell. Blue. Sleek. Glowing faintly. The creature flopped out moments later—serpentine in shape, with scaled wings curled tight against its body. Its deep-blue scales shimmered like polished stone. It coiled on the ground, blinking slowly.

  Tessa stepped forward and gave its face a curious lick. River blinked. Damn. That was… actually kind of cute. And just like Tessa had done with Albert, the dragon turned — eyes locking on Amalia. It waddled forward, then launched itself into her arms.

  The sight left River’s heart aching. It was the only thing he truly wished for—that closeness. That certainty. But his egg remained still. And he remained alone. Amalia laughed, her voice light and free, as she wrapped it against her chest. Then Amalia whispered a name to the small dragon as she pressed her tighter. For a second River was worried that she would crush the newborn.

  “Nymeira”

  Kamir said nothing.

  He remained kneeling, staring at the creature. His lips moved slightly—as though forming words— but no sound came out. He seemed… lost for words. And that wasn’t something River had ever seen from Kamir.

  He finally managed to gather his words and speak: “You three might be the luckiest people I have ever met.”

  River’s brows knit. Was it really what River thought it was… A dragon?