Conceal a dragon?
There's no need.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't hide it.
When the last layer of animal hide was peeled away,
a perfectly oval object, icy blue all over, its surface covered in intricate dragon scale patterns, like a work of art carved from ice and stars, lay quietly in Lynn's palm.
It appeared in everyone's line of sight.
The entire courtyard instantly fell into an eerie silence.
The wind stopped.
The snow also seemed to stop.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on the Dragon Egg in Lynn's hand.
Their mouths involuntarily opened, but no sound escaped their throats.
Their breathing, too, seemed frozen by the bone-chilling cold.
What was that?
That perfect oval shape, those dragon scale patterns covering its surface.
That ancient aura of a magical creature, palpable even from dozens of steps away...
"A dragon... a Dragon Egg?"
A Night's Watchman squeezed out these two words in a trembling, almost dreamlike voice.
Boom!
These two words, like a spark dropped into boiling oil, instantly ignited the entire courtyard!
"Oh my Gods! It's a Dragon Egg!"
"I'm not mistaken, am I? Is that really a Dragon Egg?"
"By the Old Gods! Lord Lynn actually found a Dragon Egg!"
"A miracle! This is absolutely a miracle!"
Exclamations, discussions, and gasps of cold air rose and fell, converging into a huge wave of sound that almost overturned Castle Black.
All the Night's Watchmen went mad, surging forward recklessly.
Everyone wanted to see more clearly.
They wanted to witness this magnificent magical creature with their own eyes!
Toren and his Northern Guards reacted quickly, immediately forming a solid human wall to block the excited crowd.
Tyrion, mixed in at the back of the crowd, was scratching his ears and cheeks in frustration.
He desperately stood on his tiptoes but could only see countless black backs.
"Damn it, can't you Northern men leave me a gap?"
As he complained, he suddenly felt his body lighten, and he was lifted by a pair of strong arms.
It was Jon Snow.
"Need a better view, Lord Lannister?"
Jon had a mischievous smile on his face.
"Be careful, Lord Snow,"
Tyrion's words were sharp, but his mismatched eyes had already darted over the crowd, firmly locking onto the Dragon Egg in Lynn's hand.
"If you drop me, my father will buy this broken wall and tear it down inch by inch."
But the moment he saw the egg clearly, all his witty remarks got stuck in his throat.
It really was a Dragon Egg!
Tyrion felt all the blood in his body flowing backward.
Dragons.
Not cold skulls hanging on the Red Keep's walls, not faded script in history books.
But a living... possibility!
What were his father's gold mines, the Lannister army, in the face of true dragonfire?
From today on, the rules of this game seemed to be completely rewritten.
"Fake! This must be fake!"
Alliser Thorne's shrill scream pierced the fervent atmosphere.
The sneer on his face had long since frozen, replaced by a twisted madness.
He pointed at Lynn, roaring hysterically:
"Dragons have been extinct for hundreds of years! How could there still be a Dragon Egg! He's a liar! You've all been deceived by him! That's just a carved stone!"
He seemed to be grasping at a last straw, trying to salvage his pathetic authority with his voice.
However, this time, no one paid him any attention.
Everyone's gaze converged on a trembling figure.
Maester Aemon.
This centenarian, learned Old Maester, of Targaryen blood.
Supported by two Night's Watchmen, he walked step by step to Lynn's front.
The crowd automatically parted a path for him.
His blind eyes "looked" at the Dragon Egg in Lynn's hand.
He extended his wrinkled hands, like withered branches, his voice trembling with an tremor that even time could not smooth away:
"Can... can I touch it?"
Lynn nodded, then, seemingly remembering that Aemon could not see, added, "Yes," before carefully handing over the Dragon Egg.
Maester Aemon, with his rough fingertips, reverently and gently stroked the icy blue eggshell.
From its perfect curve, to the intricate dragon scale patterns, to that... faint yet truly present warm pulsation, as if from life itself.
His fingertips felt it.
Beneath that icy stillness, a warm, faint, yet incredibly resilient heartbeat was pulsating!
"Buzz..."
As if sensing the aura of a shared bloodline, the icy blue Dragon Egg let out an extremely faint hum!
A pale blue halo, visible to the naked eye, flashed across the eggshell's surface!
"Ah!"
Maester Aemon's body trembled violently, as if he had been struck by lightning.
Two lines of turbid tears could no longer be held back.
They rolled down his wrinkled cheeks.
He released his hand, his entire body seeming to have been drained of all strength, and he collapsed backward.
Fortunately, the Night's Watchmen behind him caught him in time.
"It's real..."
"It's real..."
"It's alive! This little one is alive!"
Maester Aemon looked up to the sky and sighed, his voice filled with an inexpressible mix of excitement and sorrow.
"The Prince That Was Promised... the ender of the Long Night..."
He mumbled incoherently, a nearly frantic light flickering in his clouded eyes.
"It's... Lynn?"
Aemon fell into contemplation, seemingly thinking about something.
Maester Aemon's reaction was the most irrefutable proof!
The courtyard once again fell into a deathly silence.
Everyone looked at Lynn with the gaze one would give a deity.
Alliser Thorne's face had completely lost its color.
He looked at Lynn, at the Dragon Egg, at the frantic Maester Aemon.
He felt dizzy.
It's over.
Everything is over.
Jeor Mormont, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, also stood frozen in place.
His mind, too, was a blank.
A Dragon Egg.
Lynn had actually brought back a living Dragon Egg!
He recalled the words Lynn had spoken in his study before he departed.
"There lies the key to fighting the Others!"
So, this was the key?
To fight ice with dragonfire?
To fight death with life?
The Old Bear's body trembled slightly with excitement.
He looked at Lynn, and his eyes, usually occupied by worry and fatigue, burst forth with an unprecedented light!
Hope!
At a desperate moment when the Wall was about to crumble and the Long Night was about to descend, he saw that single ray of hope!
And the one who brought all this was this young man before him!
He believed he did not have the ability to end the Long Night.
The future, perhaps, belonged only to this young man!
Mormont took a deep breath, forcefully calming his tumultuous emotions.
He quickly walked to Lynn's front.
He did not speak.
He simply, in front of everyone, performed a deep breast-clutching salute to Lynn.
A Lord Commander, performing such a grand salute to his subordinate!
This had never happened in the thousands of years of the Night's Watch's history!
"Lord Commander! What are you doing!"
Lynn was greatly alarmed and quickly stepped forward, wanting to help him up.
But Mormont stubbornly maintained his bowed posture.
"Lynn."
Mormont's voice held an undisguised sob.
"From today on, you are no longer my subordinate."
He slowly straightened up, his sharp and wise eyes filled with unprecedented solemnity and entrustment.
"You are the future of the Night's Watch."
"You are the only hope for the entire North, and even the entire Seven Kingdoms, against the Long Night!"
"I, Jeor Mormont, hereby swear before the Old Gods and the New Gods!"
"As long as I draw breath, all the resources and all the manpower of the Night's Watch will be at your disposal!"
"Your will is my will!"
"Your command is the highest directive of Castle Black!"