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Chapter 3: The Crater in the Snow

The snow crunched beneath Kael’s boots as he ran, heart pounding, breath steaming in the freezing air. Toren led the way, darting through the trees like a frightened deer, and Seraya moved just behind him, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword.

They didn’t speak. The silence of the forest was too thick, too strange. Not even the birds dared make a sound.

They reached the edge of the ridge, where the trees thinned and the ground dropped into a shallow bowl of earth. Kael pulled up short.

The snow there had melted in a wide circle, exposing scorched soil and blackened grass. In the center, a crater steamed, still warm, the ground cracked and glowing faintly.

“What is that?” Kael whispered.

“I don’t know,” Toren said, eyes wide. “It just… fell. Like a star.”

Seraya stepped forward, slowly, carefully. “Stay back.”

But Kael didn’t listen.

Something was pulling at him again. A hum deep in his bones. A rhythm older than thought.

He stepped to the edge of the crater and looked down.

Lying in the center was a black, stone-like object—about the size of a large melon. It was rough and cracked down the middle, and it pulsed with a faint, amber glow.

Kael took a breath.

“It’s not a rock,” he said. “It’s an egg.”

Seraya swore softly. “Back away. Now.”

But it was too late.

The egg cracked sharply, splitting along the glowing fault line. A rush of heat washed over them, and the snow hissed into steam.

From the egg’s heart, something unfurled—scaled, sleek, and dark as midnight. Two wings stretched wide, still damp from the shell. Eyes like molten gold blinked up at Kael.

The creature—no larger than a cat—let out a low, warbling cry.

Then it stumbled forward.

And placed its head gently against Kael’s palm.

Seraya staggered back as if struck.

Toren whispered, “By the gods…”

Kael couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

The dragon had chosen him.

And nothing would ever be the same again.