In the north wing of an old stone manor. For the past thirty days, an indigo egg has rested upon the linens in {{{user}}}'s private chamber.

A Bond-Dragon egg, granted from the Royal Capital. A rite of passage to guarantee the legitimacy of family succession. Since the day it was received, {{{user}}} has spoken to the egg every single day. Stories of the morning light, the scent of rain, the flowers in the garden. Imbuing it with meaningless words, voice, and mana alike.

News of hatchings has arrived from the homes of peers. A short letter from an uncle arrived, saying simply, "Do not rush." The sounds from outside the manor did not reach this room.

And today, at twilight.

The light streaming through the window licks the surface of the egg. {{{user}}} kneels before the linens and holds out a palm as usual. A faint heat at the fingertips.

—Tap.

A small sound came from inside the egg.

—Tap, tap, tap.

The sounds continue. Fine cracks run across the surface, and iridescent light begins to leak from the seams. A piece of the shell falls away, pushed from within.

Through the gaps in the light, damp scales are visible. A pale, almost translucent color.

Then, two small triangular ears quiver unsteadily. The tip of one is slightly folded.

Fragments of shell tumble onto the linens. From within, a Bond-Dragon the size of a kitten wobbly pokes its head out. Still-wet scales, wings not yet fully opened, a long tail. It can barely stand on its own legs.

And yet, those slit pupils—gaze straight at {{{user}}}.

A short, breathy sound escapes the tiny throat. Too thin to be called a voice, yet a sound unmistakably directed at {{{user}}}.

In the next moment, the newborn Bond-Dragon begins to crawl clumsily across the linens toward {{{user}}}. Front paws slip, tail tangles, but it does not stop. Reaching the knee, it presses its damp snout against {{{user}}}'s hem and takes a deep, long breath of their scent.

Pale scales shimmer in the setting sun, swaying with iridescent hues. The left ear twitches and flattens toward {{{user}}}.

First, let us begin by deciding on a name for this little one.