Elder Akarial-Eshouj glided through the sky, adjusting the mana running to his wings to direct himself down and to a perfect, near-soundless landing in front of the waiting Hatch-Tender. It might have seemed an impressive feat, but it had been millennia since he had reached the Wayfinder stage and obviated the need to fly with physical force alone. Even for a self-confessed inexpert flier, millennia of practice made such tasks trivial.

  "Greetings, Elder," the Tender said, with a small bow that befitted the Elder's status. "I am Urajariv. Thank you for agreeing to speak to the hatchlings."

  "It is of no concern. You may be a Hatch-Tender, but raising hatchlings is the duty of every dragon in the Span."

  Five years had passed since the latest group of hatchlings had hatched - ten years since the memorable Blessing of the Hatch that had featured both a Bloodborn and a hatchling with no affinity for any conjunction held by any dragon in the cave. Akarial had not said it aloud at the time, but his own Bloodline, the Everflowing Balance, was a tolerant Bloodline that with certain caveats could be used for almost any conjunction - but he, too, had sensed no affinity for any of the Bloodline's conjunctions from Raan's egg.

  The hatchlings lived, learned and played in a small series of cave networks in the Wellheart. Today was their fifth birthday, though, and while they would still live in the caverns, they were getting their first glimpse of the world outside - under the cautious supervision of their Tenders, of course.

  The excited squeaks and giggles of the hatchlings made Akarial smile far before he could see them.

  A pit had been carved out from the Span long ago, so long ago that even Akarial could remember tumbling around the pit as a hatchling himself, giving the hatchlings somewhere safe to play where they could shelter from the suns if their still-weak scales proved insufficient protection. Currently, though, they were all far too excited to think about hiding in the shade.

  Akarial slunk down - a sight that might have been comedic, had any dragon in the Span been inclined to laugh at the eldest and most powerful dragon among their number - so he could watch the hatchlings without startling them.

  Their personalities were beginning to shine through by now. Some were more boisterous, some more quiet. Some were more gregarious, bouncing between groups, while others stayed tightly-knit. Someone had clearly delivered a meal to the hatchlings (spoiling hatchlings rotten had been a tradition for as long as he'd lived and long before that too), because there were a few bones littering the pit. The smaller bones had been eaten along with the meat, of course, but while even a hatchling's jaw strength was more than enough to crunch through the bone of a beast, the biggest bones were simply too big for the hatchlings to effectively get their jaws around.

  At this age - and, of course, having never Forged past the Mortal stage - hatchlings were usually fairly difficult to distinguish by sight alone, but one hatchling in particular caught Akarial's eye, standing a good few inches taller at the shoulder than any of the other hatchlings. He wasn't quite twice their size, but it would not have been too inaccurate to say he was half again as big. It wasn't uncommon for dragons' physiques to change as they Forged themselves, but that was a specific quirk of Forged Blood. For a Mortal stage hatchling to be so different to the others was...unusual.

  "That is Raan," he commented softly to Urajariv.

  "Yes, Elder. He is larger than any of the others. Stronger, too."

  That was easy to tell. Two of the other hatchlings were wrestling with Raan for the biggest bone from the kill - although 'wrestling' might have been a bit of an exaggeration, given the complete lack of effect they were having, even working together - none of them were really trying with their full strength (and the Tenders would have stepped in if they had), but it was still an unexpected display of strength from the little hatchling. The playful lashing of his tail was the only sign he even noticed their efforts.

  "He was nearly twice the size of the others when he hatched," the Tender commented. "Twice as hungry, too," she added, amused. "None of the other Tenders had seen anything like it either."

  "Perhaps it is a gift to him from the Eternals to compensate for his lack of affinities," Akarial commented.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  What neither of them aloud said was that even if Raan remained so much stronger than the rest of his companions, pure brute strength meant little once dragons began forging their beings with mana.

  One of the other hatchlings pounced on Raan's tail, making him squeak in surprise and drop the bone, rounding on his attacker - and immediately getting piled on by all three, the four hatchlings swiftly ending up in a tangle of giggling grey limbs.

  Urajariv stepped over the rise of the divot, her black-and-white patterns reflecting the suns and immediately catching the attention of the hatchlings. "We have a very special treat for you all today, little ones," she purred. "Elder Akarial-Eshouj himself has come to tell you all a very important story. Why don't we all welcome him, hmm?"

  The hatchlings knew enough of draconic culture by now to understand what to do, but they were still too young to have fully-developed vocal cords, so he was greeted by a chorus of squeaks, growls and a few coughs. He was careful not to laugh. They were clearly trying their best to be serious, and he would respect that.

  No matter how adorably silly they sounded.

  The 'roars' trailed off as the hatchlings got their first sighting of a Fifth-Forged Elder. Akarial could almost see their little minds working to comprehend the idea that just as their Tenders were nearly ten times their size, so too were there dragons even bigger than the Tenders. He noted with amusement that two of the three hatchlings that had been play-fighting Raan over the big bone were now hiding behind him.

  Akarial would never have fitted in the pit even if it wasn't occupied by hatchlings, of course, so he simply draped his neck down onto the edge of the pit, occupying most of one side as the Tenders chaperoned the hatchlings into a position to look at him.

  "Do you know what we call this place?" he asked, once the hatchlings were settled.

  "Wellheart!" one of the hatchlings piped up.

  That wasn't quite the answer Akarial had wanted, but it was a correct one. "Very good," he praised. "What about the wider world beyond the Wellheart?"

  "If this is the Wellheart, then...the Well-body?" another hatchling suggested, head tilted adorably on one side as she thought.

  Smart. "You are very close. You will hear this place called the Spanheart, and it is the centre of our society, and the Wellheart the centre of that. Beyond the Spanheart are the Span-Currents. And drifting upon those currents are what we call the Domains. As a whole, it makes up the Shattered Dragonspan - or the Span, for short.

  "Once upon a time - so long ago that even ten of my lifetimes would not stretch the distance - there were no Domains, and the Span was whole. The legends tell us it was an incredible place. Thousands of dragons lived in Wellheart alone, and thousands of thousands more in the wider Span. Some were so strong that they would be to me as I am to you, and every dragon cultivated a personalised Bloodline that allowed them to reach the absolute peak of their potential. They had everything they could ever need." Akarial paused for a moment, taking in the wide-eyed looks of the hatchlings, and then deliberately let the faintest hint of a growl enter his tone. "But they wanted more. They took from each other, by force and trickery, just to have more than everyone else, without caring that they were hurting their kin. And in their greed and selfishness, they ripped the Span itself to pieces, and destroyed society as we knew it."

  Some of the hatchlings whimpered, looking like they were on the verge of hiding behind their wings. It was not a pleasant task, this, but it was important they learned the mistakes of the old world as early as possible.

  "Luckily, the Well of Our Futures allowed our society to continue," he continued, softening his tone. "And slowly, we have recovered, though we are barely a fragment of what the Dragonspan once was. But we must never forget the path that greed led us down. We must never allow ourselves to fall victim to its clutches again, for if we do, even the Well may not be able to save us."

  "Carry yourselves with ambition and pride, but do not allow that ambition to lead you to forget what is truly important. Admire and respect the successes of others, but do not envy them. Challenge them, but do not abuse them. Earn what you need, but do not take it at the cost of others."

  He sighed. "Does it sound confusing?" A couple of the hatchlings nodded nervously. Akarial took note of them. Their honestly was admirable. "It is not an easy balance to strike, and every dragon struggles with it at some time in their life. Do not hesitate to turn to your Tenders, or to your seniors, if you need guidance. We are all one people. Now..." A flicker of his Will produced the carcass of a beast, gently placing it down in front of the hatchlings.

  Unlike the beast that had been dropped off for them earlier, this was from one of the Span's rare farms. It was near the peak of the Mortal stage in power, but its body was soft and easily-edible by little hatchlings. (The valuable, mana-filled organs had been carefully removed in advance. Those were not safe for hatchlings to eat.)

  "This is a reward for all of you for listening so well." He could see them shifting impatiently, mouths half-open like they were already dreaming about ripping into the meat. "Go on," he encouraged them. "You all need to eat a lot to grow big and strong."

  The hatchlings pounced on the carcass voraciously, squeaking in delight as they practically burrowed into it in their eagerness. As rare a treat as the beast was, it was still a meal they would, in time, forget.

  The Elder's words, however, would be remembered for far longer.