Alysanne understood well that tradition was never a matter of haste. In House Targaryen, a dragon egg was not merely a treasured relic; it was a promise that had to be allowed to mature with patience. The first days after childbirth passed without her even approaching the chamber where the eggs were kept. She recovered her strength, learned once more the rhythm of her son's breathing, and allowed time to settle like wine that was not yet ready to be poured.
Only on the seventh day, when her body was strong enough to walk farther than the length of her chamber, did she ask Jaehaerys to accompany her to the vault where the dragon eggs were stored.
The chamber was quiet and warm, lit by torches mounted high so their heat spread evenly. The ancient stone walls were darkened by centuries of soot, remnants of generations of dragons long dead. The dragon eggs were arranged carefully upon fine sand and thick woolen cloth, each different in color and texture—blood-red, deep black, dull green, burnished bronze, and one that shone faintly gold like the dying light of the sun.
Alysanne did not touch them all.
She walked slowly, observing, feeling in a way that could not be fully explained. She had been raised among dragons. She knew that not every choice came from reason alone.
When she stopped before the golden egg, Jaehaerys knew at once.
Its color was not dazzling. It did not gleam brightly. Instead, its surface looked old, like metal long weathered by time. Yet a subtle warmth seeped through the cloth beneath it, not like the heat of a torch, but a living warmth.
Alysanne placed her hand upon it longer than upon the others.
She said nothing. She merely drew a slow breath and gave a small nod—a decision that required no explanation.
The egg was then wrapped with care and brought to Valerion's chamber without ceremony, without unnecessary witnesses. Targaryen tradition had always been like this: quiet, intimate, almost like a family secret.
When the egg was finally placed beside Valerion's cradle, he was awake.
His awareness was already stable enough to recognize changes around him. He felt the shift of air, the variation in heat, and—most striking of all—the presence of a new living entity that immediately triggered a response from the nano machine.
[Living entity detected.]
[Non-human structure. Classification: draconic.]
There it is, Valerion thought calmly. A dragon egg.
The nano machine began to map the egg, but this time Valerion consciously imposed a limit. He did not want the system to act aggressively. This was not a network to be optimized carelessly.
"Just observe," he instructed inwardly. "Do not alter anything."
[Command received. Passive observation mode activated.]
The following days flowed without clear markers. There were no great events, no sudden changes. Yet it was precisely there that the true process unfolded.
The egg absorbed Valerion's body heat little by little. The nano machine subtly regulated temperature distribution across his skin, ensuring steady stability. There were no spikes, no fluctuations that might disturb the embryo within the shell.
Valerion did not experience this as a task or a burden. He performed it with calm awareness, almost reflexively.
The egg and I exist within the same enclosed space, he thought. We are adjusting to each other.
[Thermal and bioenergetic co-resonance detected.]
His nights filled with dreams that slowly changed.
Where once he dreamed of flying, he now dreamed of narrow, dark spaces—not frightening, but comforting. He felt another rhythm nearby, heavy and slow, as if two hearts were learning to beat together.
In those dreams, there was no fire. No sky.
Only warmth.
When Valerion awoke from these dreams, he felt the egg growing warmer, more present. The nano machine recorded increased metabolic activity inside it, but there were no danger signs.
[Dragon embryo entering advanced developmental phase.]
At the same time, Alysanne sensed changes within herself.
She was not frail as she had been after bearing her previous children. She did not grow dizzy easily, nor did her strength fade. Each time she nursed Valerion, she felt a steady, balanced flow of energy—as though her body were not being drained, but working in harmony.
Valerion knew why.
The nano machine moderated his own needs, restraining aggressive growth and optimizing nutrient usage. He took no more than necessary. He ensured that his mother remained strong—not from empathy alone, but because her stability was the foundation of his own survival.
I cannot grow if she collapses, he thought simply.
Day after day passed. The first crack appeared on the egg's surface, almost invisible, like a hairline fracture in old metal. The nano machine detected it long before human eyes could.
[Shell integrity decreasing in a controlled manner.]
Valerion was not surprised. He merely steadied his breathing, stabilized his body temperature, and remained still.
Not yet, his thoughts whispered, whether to himself or to the being inside the shell. There is no need to rush.
He knew one thing with certainty now.
The egg was not merely hatching beside him.
It was hatching with him.