The dragon soared through the swirling eddies with a stormy grey ocean churning beneath her, stretching as far as the eye could see. Even from her great height she could see the chunks of ice floating in the waves. Frost patterned on her copper wings.



The wind grew stronger, like some old weather god was trying to buffet this lonely creature from the sky. But the copper was an expert flier, and revelled in the way her wings only had to tilt slightly to glide over the world. She laughed in the face of the winds, and curled her frame to ride it, like a wisp of gale herself, more and a creature of flesh, blood and flame.



But something was changed. The sounds of hail tapping on stones reached the drakka's ears, but she couldn't see any, though the clouds were a raging shade of purple. Where was the hail?



The noise grew louder, and she followed it like it was a lantern of a stranger on a dark night, dragged from her dream in an instant.



Her mate lay sleeping quietly beside her, his silvery wing draped over her flanks and their eggs like some protective human blanket. It gave her comfort and warmth to know Hanorh was there.



The tapping. It was here in their cave, its echo playing strangely across the rock walls. A wild excitement built itself like her first fire in Aurha's chest. The tapping was coming from their eggs. They were hatching.



'Hanorh, Hanorh, my love, wake,' she said gently, licking his face. A new energy was quivering through the drakka, and her wing muscles flexed nervously as she waited for the silver to wake up.



'What is it, Aurha?' he asked, suddenly alert, sensing the anxiety of his mate. 'Is it men?'



'No such thing, my lord. Look.' Aurha nudged his wing away carefully to reveal the seven eggs laid in the depths of winter. Now spring was coming, and they were stirring.



'Our eggs?' Hanorh asked in disbelief. 'Are our eggs finally hatching?' Aurha nodded proudly, curling her tail protectively around their clutch as they struggled to break free of their shells. Hanorh purred happily and nuzzled his mate, gazing down at the white elongated spheres as though they held all his interest.



A shaft of light pierced the cave entrance and fell golden upon the floor. It felt warm and held the promise of summer. 'Look, Hanorh, at the day. It is the Equinox, when day and night share equally,' Aurha whispered. She smiled and bent her graceful neck down to the twitching eggs. 'Come out, my children,' she crooned, 'there is a whole world waiting for you.'



'I will find some meat. They'll be hungry when they make their way out. I remember I was,' the silver said, nuzzling his mate again as he made his way to the entrance. 'I will be back soon.'



By the time the first egg broke, the sun shafts had crept fully into the cave and glittered off the accumulated gemstones studding the rock. A small nose, slimy with yolk, poked out to take its first breath of air. The hatchling kicked out and thumped with its tail, suddenly desperate to be rid of the casing that had sheltered it for so many months. A clattering of claws made Aurha turn from the miracle and instinctively move between the eggs and the danger. But it was only her mate, returning with a dead carthorse. She looked at it with horror.



'Tell me you didn't take that from humans,' she whispered with dread.



'No. It was lost and wild,' Hanorh lied, placing the carcass near the nest. It would not do to agitate his mate. If any men did come looking for this nag, he'd be ready for them. The first hatchling had completely lost its shell by now, and squeaked loudly as two more noses broke through their shells. He was silver, like Hanorh, though slightly darker. He stumbled over to his parents on unsteady hatchling legs, and squeaked up at them, trying to make sense of their scaly bulk. Safe, his instincts told him.



'Hello, my little drake,' Aurha said, reaching out to sniff her first son. She licked round his face.



The next to hatch was a drakka of unusual colouring. She was copper like her mother, but had a silver sheen to her belly. Immediately she wobbled over to where her brother was gorging himself and wrestled him for the dominant spot, her small, wet wings half furled to make herself look bigger.



'I think that one might be difficult,' Hanorh commented. 'She takes after you.' Aurha nipped him playfully on the shoulder.



In all, a silver, two coppers, a mix, a dark silver and a grey were hatched, and all stood squabbling over the horse Hanorh had brought. The silver-copper, Seshkra, and her oldest brother Handreth, were keeping the others at bay together. Hanorh purred with pride and happiness as his hatchlings hungrily devoured the meat. Aurha wasn't so enthusiastic.



'What is wrong, my love?' he asked, sensing her mood. 'We have six healthy hatchlings.'



'Yes,' she murmured. 'Six.' She was curled up around the remaining egg, staring at it with a sad frown. She licked its still, cold shell and growled softly. 'Come out, little one,' she whispered, the pleading in her voice breaking Hanorh's heart. It was tragic that one of the eggs hadn't survived, but that was the way it was. Sometimes eggs didn't last to hatch. It was nobody's fault, and it couldn't be changed.



'Aurha,' he said gently. 'One out of seven. We have six healthy. This one didn't make it.'



'No!' cried Aurha hoarsely, staring at him with incredulity. Dragons couldn't cry, but the look she gave him was the utterly distraught glare of a desperate mother, and she clutched the egg closer to her scales. 'There is still a chance,' she muttered. 'Still a chance. . .' She leaned over the egg and licked it again, nudging it with her snout.



'Aurha –' She snarled at him, wildly protective of the object clutched gently in her talons.



'It's not dead!' she hissed.



'Let go,' he replied gently. 'Look at them. Those are your children, Aurha. Six of them, and they need you.'



'But –' she looked confused.



'Let it go,' he soothed, 'This one has already met Rheshrah.' The silver pressed his warm bulk against his mate to calm her, tenderly removing the egg from her claws. It twitched slightly as he moved it. His claws clicked across its surface. The second time it happened, his talons were nowhere near it. The egg shifted position all by itself. The hatchling inside was alive!



'Aurha!' he cried excitedly.



'What?' she answered sullenly.



'You were right, my love.' A crack shuddered through the egg and an instant later a leathery head appeared in a quickly widening hole. A bright silver, nearly white head. Aurha snorted softly as she observed her youngest hatchling struggling to emerge. A smile spread cautiously across her face, as if she wasn't daring to believe her eyes. The hatchling chirped in triumph when it finally wriggled free.



'We will have to name you Rhehala,' the copper murmured to her son. She looked into her mate's eyes.



'Perfect,' he said.