His breath was ragged and fast, his body smoking. His armour was shattered here and there, revealing bits of burnt and bleeding flesh. Firming his grip on his sword, Ayden dislodged it from the dragon’s neck and took a few heavy steps back to observe the downed creature. If his blade was sparkling, vibrating with energy after having absorbed the blood of such a beast, his hand was still sticky with hot plasma. Yet he ran it through his hair, pulling it back and smearing it with haemoglobin. Rogan climbed down from the back of the beast he was perched on and rubbed his arms with—Ayden guessed—a grimace. 

           “One day, you’ll have my death on your conscience.” 

           “Stop mumbling Ro’, you’re going to get wrinkles, and women don’t like wrinkled men.” 

           “What’s that got to do with it? Besides, I already have white hair because of you.”

           “Themis, where are you?” Ayden asked mentally, knowingly ignoring his friend’s lamentations.

        “Grodyr and I are on our way with some soldiers. Monica stayed behind to make sure the head was recovered according to the rites,” the mage said at once. “And Rogan, stop bitching. It’s tiring...”

          “Is that all you’ve got for me? Here, come on, another dragon... That’s all you’ve got for me, by all the gods...” continued to mutter the prowler, turning his back on the berserker.

           Ayden chuckled before clearing his throat.

           “Rogan, stay here and wait for Themis. Don’t let the leeches get near the corpse, they could dry it out in no time. I’ll keep searching,” the redhead warned mentally so everyone could hear.

           “I’ll keep searching, yes, yes... You maniac,” the prowler said in a low voice with a bit of spice, wiping the blood from his blades. 

           The clinking of his armour on the stone accompanied the whispers of his friend, whose voice disappeared as Ayden made his way into the underground. The cave was natural, but the beasts that had taken it had made it bigger. The powerful claws that had dug into this place had left grooves that time had softened but not erased. But the deeper Ayden went, the more the tunnel’s size decreased, and after a long time, he stopped. 

           Not only did the path end in the nest, but his gaze remained riveted on what lay at the centre of the aerie. With bated breath, he observed the softly shining surface, the scales smooth to the naked eye. There it was. An egg. A dragon’s egg.

        The Lord of Roch had hired them to track down and bring back this legend that was in front of his eyes. Despite the Lod’s advanced age, he had continued to squander the Roch fortune over the last few decades in his quest for immortality, ignoring the taunts of the king’s court and drawing the ire of his subjects.

         His attempts were unsuccessful so far, and on the eve of another conflict with a neighbouring country, he had launched a new campaign to recruit mercenaries. Not to support His Majesty, but to find this fantastic treasure. Unfortunately, the dragons became rare, discreet creatures. Their ferocious nature made mating difficult, and the humans slowly decimated their species. 

         Silently, Ayden approached the nest. The stone had been levelled; the ground covered with various bones and branches crushed by the weight of the creatures. And when he was in front of the egg, Ayden dropped to one knee, his two-handed sword leaning sideways behind his back. 

           He was right. 

         The scales were so thin that the surface seemed smooth. It was more or less the size of half his shin, and yet, dressed in that discreet bluish glow, it seemed delicate. He could not explain what seized him and made his throat tight. It was as if he founded something he had lost without ever having had it. And for a moment, Ayden remained immobile, observing the egg.

           “Ayden? Ayden!” came the sudden sound of Themis’ voice in his mind.

           He blinked, snapping out of his trance, and looked away from the legendary object.

           “Themis?”

           “We have been talking to you for a while now, and you haven’t answered. Are you all right?”

           “Yes... Yes, everything’s fine.”

           Without knowing why, Ayden remained silent for a moment as he stared at the egg again.

           “I found it,” he said in a soft voice.

           Silence reigned in his mind. Then cries of joy broke out.

           “Rich! We’re going to be rich!”

“On our way, stay there, don’t even move a finger,” Themis ordered.

       Ayden couldn’t help but smile: despite the mage’s restraint, he could feel the latter’s relief and jubilation through their bond. Even Grodyr and the discreet Monica seemed happy despite their silence, and for a moment the satisfaction of a job carried away Ayden. And by Rogan’s voice, which kept praising the beauty of the women of the court.

        It took Themis and Rogan a moment to join him, and like him, the two men stood in awe at the sight of the egg. Ayden even stepped aside to allow them to admire it better, and at the look on their faces, elation overcame the strange feeling he had been experiencing earlier. He laughed softly, the cave echoing his deep voice in a flattering way.

         “Beautiful...” whispered Themis.

         The redhead smiled with incongruous pride and turned his head towards the egg. He nodded, picking up the bag thrown at him.

          “Beautiful, indeed.”

        And he laid his hand on the object of their quest. A blinding light burst into the cave the next moment, flooding it, emanating from the egg beneath his palm. Ayden heard Themis and Rogan shouting his name, and then... 

           It was pitch black.