Alduin Unbound

Long Road to Rebirth

All days are nights to see till I see thee,

And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

William Shakespeare- Sonnet XLIII

“Let’s see… Encyclopedia of Dragon Hordes? No.” The book closed with a snap and magically flew to the side.

“Mechanics of Draconic Locomotion, no.”

“Burning Sky- The dragon/pegasus alliance of 1142, no.”

“Serpentine Embrace… no!” That particular book was flung rather harshly across the room.

Biting back a yawn, Celestia looked between the large piles that occupied the floor of her bedroom. That morning, she had been forced to admit an unfortunate but undeniable truth. She didn’t have the slightest idea how to hatch her egg. The obvious solution would be to enlist the help of an actual dragon, but a number of factors made it highly implausible.

First, there was the small matter of simply finding one. While there were several within the borders of Equestria, they were quite withdrawn. The last confirmed sighting had occurred nearly a decade ago, and that dragon had merely been passing overhead. Tracking down an actual lair would be much more difficult. Second was obtaining its help. Assuming she was able to find and contact a dragon, there was no guarantee it would be in an obliging mood. It might demand that the egg be handed over, or that it be allowed to raise the infant itself. Wouldn’t it be just her luck to accidentally contact a dragon who was in fact related to the egg’s parents? No, it seemed too risky unless as a final resort.

In lieu of speaking to a dragon, the best available option seemed to be research, and so she trotted straight to the Royal Library of Equestria, where she made one simple request: every book, scroll, tome and article pertaining to dragons. The pony on duty had paled considerably, not a small feat considering her coat was already white. Nevertheless, she scoured the catalogues and shelves, gathering the myriad works into a pile that towered over the princess herself.

Unfazed by the mountain of manuscripts, Celestia called on her magic and levitated the entire pile into the air. The books swirled and floated above her like a gathering storm, a bibliocumulus of paper and ink. Turning to the door, Celestia thanked the librarian, promising to return her checkouts the following afternoon. The pony cheerfully waved farewell, patiently waited until the monarch was out of sight, and then immediately bolted for the office to request a sick day.

The trip back to the castle had been relatively uneventful, though the large amount of whispering bystanders was quite unusual, but she attributed that to her literary satellite more than anything else. It skipped her notice that the whispers began to grow in strength after some of the more eagle-eyed ponies caught a glimpse at a few of the book titles. After depositing the loot in her room, she had taken a light lunch, attended to a few royal matters, ordered that her remaining schedule for the day be cleared, and went to hit the books.

It had not gone well; few of the works were even remotely useful. The majority of the biological and anatomical texts centered entirely on adult dragons, and even the ones that focused on the growth and life-cycle tended to begin with the newly born infants. Perhaps dragons were hesitant to speak about the process, or scholars found the subject to be distasteful. Whatever the reason, there was little information to assist her in the actual hatching.

Works of fiction were even worse. While she had not expected to discover anything profound, there existed a great deal of novels that focused upon dragons living amongst ponies. Maybe, just maybe, there was some nugget of truth waiting to be discovered. Instead, there was book upon book of idealized adventures: dragons nursed back to health by kind-hearted fillies, dragons coming to the rescue of hapless towns and distressed mares, dragons turning against their own wicked brethren for the sake of ponykind. Completely superfluous to her goal, but Celestia had to admit that she found the books reassuring. At the very least, it supported the theory that her subjects would come to accept the idea of a dragon in their midst.

And some might do more than accept it, if the large number of harlequine romances were any indication.

Nevertheless, all she could do was continue searching, her discouragement growing at the same rate as the discard pile. Biographies, historical narratives, bestiaries, but nothing she could use!

She was tossing aside a rather steamy romance called The Dragon in Twilight when she saw it. The book was thick and heavy, and the faded appearance of the cover gave her the impression that it hadn’t been read for quite some time. The title read Dragon Eggs: A treatise on incubation and hatching. In a display of shocking coincidence, she had found exactly what she needed! Gleefully snatching up the book, she leapt onto her bed and began to read.

Unbeknownst to the princess, there had been a great deal of commotion throughout Canterlot. The previous evening, a fantastic and unbelievable rumor had been leaked into the city. To think, a dragon’s egg! Nobles and commoners alike found themselves gossiping at length about this mysterious arrival. It was the biggest news in Canterlot since the baroness Pondera smuggled a rabid cockatrice into her husband’s private study after she discovered his sordid affair with the duchess of Hoofingdonshire.

In the end, Sweet Grass had been right. Within a day, all of Canterlot was in an uproar. Granted, it wasn’t quite the panic he’d envisioned.

“I say, do you suppose they’ll use it to guard the castle,” one mare inquired as she looked up from her watercress sandwich. “Quite handy, having a dragon about. It would certainly make a formidable presence, and if some hoodlum were to attempt a spot of mischief, they’d be gobbled right up, don’t you know!”

“Heating, of course. Can you imagine the fortune we’d save on lumber in the winter,” a blacksmith grumbled as he pumped the bellows of his forge. “You’d just have to fashion its quarters into channeling heat to the boiler, and the dragon’d keep the place nice and toasty!”

“Eet haz been brought for a most special occasion! No doubt ze council, zhey are vanting us to prepare zees egg for an entrée at ze gala!” Down in the royal kitchens, a heavily accented and mustachioed chef was frantically digging through his cookbooks. “Egads! Vere is ze recipe for apple and strawberry meringue?!”

And so on and so forth.

Had he been aware of the situation, Alduin would have doubtlessly been horrified by his newfound celebrity status.

But vague rumors can only do so much. The public needed facts. They needed details. They needed the princess. Who else could put their minds at ease and satisfy their hunger for gossip on all things draconic? And so a crowd gathered at the castle gates, a thousand questions on their lips. Was the egg some political refugee? Were its parents nearby? And, in the case of one portly chef, was it edible?

But their stakeout was in vain. The minutes ticked by, and there was no sign whatsoever of the princess. The masses were becoming frantic. When they finally learned that Celestia was in fact visiting the library, they raced off like a clunky, uncoordinated machine, certain that this was some vital clue to the mystery.

Unfortunately their sovereign was in no condition to answer their questions, as she was marching back to the castle like a mare on a mission, toting what appeared to be half the library behind her.

The assembled ponies watched and whispered, their rumor-filled minds trying to understand how this bizarre spectacle could possibly fit into a larger whole. Nopony could come up with an answer, however, until one keen sighted filly nudged her mother’s leg and pointed to a book on the lower edge of the cloud.

“Momma,” she asked innocently. “Wat are dwagon couwtship wituals?”

The air was filled with melodramatic gasps of shock, and ponies began to once again follow Celestia, their eyes struggling to pick out title names from the maelstrom.

One thing was for sure; there was definitely an egg in Canterlot, and the princess was somehow involved! For the gossip-mill, it was like tossing a chunk of potassium into a bathtub.

The rumors ranged from fantastic…

“Did you hear? They say that the egg is some illegitimate heir to the Uruloki throne,” one stallion announced before tossing back a glass of rye. “The family was hunted down at the Equestrian border, but the princess caught them just after the parents were executed. She called down that meteor to kill the murderers before swooping in and retrieving the egg!”

To inappropriate…

“Don’t you think it’s strange that Celestia suddenly has a dragon egg so soon after peace with their kingdom is declared,” one unicorn demanded. “If you ask me, I’d say her and the dragon king were making a bit more than a treaty the past few weeks! Mark my words, what pops out of that egg is going to be a bit more than a dragon, probably gonna have feathers on the wings and hooves on the feet!”

To completely accurate…

“Listen to me! We’re in danger, all of us,” a stallion yelled from his soapbox at Picafilly Circus. “The egg, it’s not from this world! It fell from the sky, banished from its home for past crimes, and once it hatches it will destroy the world! Head for the hills! Flee to the valleys! Run to the rooftops! The end is nigh!”

But nopony paid any attention to him.

Still, for all this nervous excitement, there was something that bothered the gossipers. Despite an almost citywide knowledge of the egg, despite overwhelming “evidence” that linked it to Celestia, not a single one of them had actually laid eyes upon it. Could it be that their imaginations had run away with them? Was this egg nothing more than a fictitious delusion brought about by a bored nobility yearning for thrills? They had to find out. One by one, each pony departed their home or business, their sights fixed solely on the castle.

Chapter 19.1: Introduction to nesting.

In normal cases, the egg is hatched as part of a larger clutch within a nest built by the female parent. The nest is typically a rounded pit dug into the floor of the parent’s lair, though a raised mound might be constructed if the terrain proves unsuitable for digging. Typically, one parent remains in physical contact with the eggs, incubating them through the process of thermal conduction. More importantly, this contact creates an imbalance in the ambient magical energy of the infant, lowering its natural resistances so that the parent’s energy might aid in its growth. In truth, it is the elemental transfer from parent to child that is vital to a successful hatching.

That, in turn, explains the extreme difficulty that ponies face in attempting to hatch a dragon’s egg. While a replacement nest could be easily constructed, and a pony’s body heat could take the place of a parent, mimicking a parent’s energy signature is a much more complicated process.

Fortunately, alternative options exist. Even the most devoted of parents might be forced to temporarily vacate their nest, and in response, dragons have utilized a number of strategies that are easily duplicated by ponies.

This chapter examines the physical and technical details of-

Celestia skipped over the next several pages. From what she could tell, a replacement nest would serve only for cosmetic purposes, and the details on draconic incubation were not immediately relevant. She wanted to cut to the chase and get the little one hatched as soon as possible.

19.8: Artificial Incubation.

While the proper placement and construction of a nest can prove beneficial, arguably the most important action to be taken is to ensure that the egg is properly incubated. As mentioned in the introduction, ponies cannot accomplish this task in the same manner as a true draconic parent, forcing them to adopt a secondary method. These methods are unique to each individual species, and due to the various elemental affinities that dragons possess, it is vital to the health of the infant that the correct one is used. Be advised that the techniques described herein are potentially hazardous, and failure to match the incubation style with the egg’s affinity can result in permanent harm or death to the hatchling. To determine the correct incubation process, one must first identify the type of dragon to be hatched.

(Note: If you are already aware of the dragon’s species, please see page 742.)

Fortunately, ascertaining the elemental nature of your hatchling is a simple manner. Simply note the physical characteristics of the egg and compare them to the corresponding table.

(Note: For detailed information on each species and its elemental properties, see Chapter Four: Draconic Subtypes.)

Levitating her quill and a blank scroll, Celestia lowered her head and examined the egg. She looked it over with all the concentration of a schoolfilly studying for a test, all the while jotting down her observations. When she determined that the egg had been well and truly examined, she turned to her notes, wanting to ensure that nothing had been missed.

It was roughly a foot and a half in length, three-quarters of a foot in width, and weighed approximately twenty-five pounds. The egg possessed an ovoid shape with two axes of symmetry, making it impossible to differentiate between the aerus and taglion. It was pleasantly warm to the touch, and completely smooth, free of any granulations or pits. Finally, the primary coloration was a deep, royal purple, with the spots somewhere between an orchid and lilac tint. Satisfied that all the information was correct, she turned back to the book and began to examine the table. A few moments passed, and her grin slid into a frown when she realized that things didn’t add up.

While many of the egg’s characteristics fit into specific categories, there was a great deal of overlap, to the point where it was impossible to confidently assign it to a single species. Some of the attributes, such as the color, didn’t fit into a single one! She began to wonder if perhaps the author even knew what he was talking about. Clinging to the slim hope of an alternate approach to the alternate, she flipped to the next page.

Please note that the aforementioned table applies only in the case that both parents are of a similar racial background. Due to their magical characteristics, dragons are fully capable of cross-species reproduction. Inter-racial breeding of this kind will often produce an egg which possesses a combination of physical traits from either parent, making identification through visual means impossible.

“Wonderful,” she said. “You couldn’t have placed that note a bit earlier in the chapter?” With a sigh of frustration, she crumpled her notes and telekinetically flung them into the wastebasket.

If the egg cannot be identified by physical characteristics, another option exists, which involves the direct application of magic. This is done by enchanting an object to respond to elemental radiation and placing it in contact with the egg. The channeling object will react by manifesting a physical sign of the element. The spell required is a modification of an already complex enchantment; it is recommended that before attempting the spell, the unicorn initially familiarize themselves with the original variant, Thermochromic Transmutation.

A quick mental tug brought the relevant book floating to the bed, and the alicorn quickly scanned the index until she discovered the spell. It enchanted a specific object to change colors in the presence or absence of heat, and was typically used by chemistry students to safely monitor their equipment.

Celestia read through the instructions twice, and her horn lit up with a glow as she prepared to test the spell. Setting her sights on a brass candlestick, she levitated it next to the fireplace and began to concentrate. A warm blue light immediately surrounded the candlestick, and she was pleased to notice that the side closest to the fire was already turning a brilliant shade of red. She rotated it slowly, watching as the red coloration crept in the opposite direction.

With that finished, the princess was ready to move on. Returning the candlestick to its usual place, she was about to compare instructions on the two spells when a knock came at the door.

Normally, Celestia was a very patient deity. Right now, however, she was not in the mood to be disturbed. Climbing off the bed, she magically slammed the doors open and cast the nervous attendant a very tight smile.

“Yeeeeeeessssss?” She ground out, a current of annoyance running through her normally kind and regal voice.

The stallion gave an audible gulp. “Please, um, forgive the intrusion your highness, but there are some ponies requesting an audience with you as soon as possible.”

Celestia put a hoof to her chin, adopting a look of contemplation. “Really… an audience, you say? How very strange, I was certain that I quite clearly ordered that my schedule for the day be cleared.”

“Well… it… it was,” the pony stammered, looking as though he wanted to run screaming down the hallway. “It’s just that, well, this is a bit of an emergency.”

Celestia blew out a long and weary breath. It was just a temporary inconvenience, no reason to get upset, and certainly no excuse to terrify her subjects. Putting on a much more normal smile, she stepped out of the room and motioned for him to follow her down the hallway.

“So what is this emergency?”

“It’s, well it’s about you, my lady,” the stallion said. “They demand to speak to you about, you know, that.” He gave an exaggerated nod towards her bedroom.

“That?” She asked with an amused smirk.

“The egg,” he whispered conspiratorially.

She had been afraid of this. As unlikely as it was, she had hoped that the egg could be kept secret until it was hatched. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to lie to her people now. With any luck, she would only have a few hysterical ponies to calm.

Opening the doors to the throne room, she strode inside with a confident smile. “Good morning,” she announced. “I understand that an audience has been requested… with… me…”

Celestia’s jaw dropped as scores of eyes focused upon her. The throne room was filled from wall to wall, ponies of all ages and types packed together and fidgeting with excitement while her aides formed a crude line to try and hold them back. The main doors were fully opened, the crowd stretching out into the streets.

“Oh,” she finished meekly, frozen as she stared down the assembled crowd of ponies. The masses looked right back, every one of their gazes boring straight into her. Nothing moved, nopony spoke, and the only sound was a gentle breeze that sent a tumbleweed rolling across the throne room.

‘Keep calm,’ she told herself. ‘No sudden movements. Don’t break eye contact. First things first, just focus on getting to the throne.’ She nodded imperceptibly. She could do this.

No surgeon or seamstress ever moved as slowly and carefully as Celestia in the next few moments. She sidled cautiously across the room, barely lifting her hooves from the floor as she kept her eyes firmly on the crowd, as if willing them to remain in place. Their eyes moved in unison, centered directly upon her even as their bodies remained stock-still. She was almost there, just a few feet more.

But of course, this was not to be. The universe, with its terrifically vindictive sense of humor, decided that it would be a real treat for a hoof to catch on one of the steps leading to the dais.

*clink*

Ponies throughout the room started at the noise. They blinked and shook their heads as if emerging from a trance.

She waited for a moment, and when they remained silent, she relaxed. That could certainly have gone worse. “My dearest subjects,” she began.

A cacophony of voices drowned her out. “Princess Celestia!” cried numerous ponies. There were shouts from every direction as they crowded towards her, mixing into an unrecognizable fog of noise and knocking the hapless attendants to the floor.

“SILENCE!” Sweet Grass yelled over the racket. He glared out at the multicolored group as they quieted. “Whatever your business in this hall, this is no way to behave! Acting in such a way before the princess! Have you all gone mad? Have you no manners? This… this riotous behavior will not be tolerated!”

Seeing that her advisor was on the verge of launching into one of his infamous lectures, Celestia drew herself up and flared out her wings. Recognizing the gesture, subjects and servants alike turned their attention to the princess.

It was time to come clean.

It just wasn’t fair.

The last pony exited the room, his head craning back every few steps. Behind him, light from the newly risen moon flooded into the doorway.

“I only wanted to have a quiet, relaxing day of research and maybe start getting you hatched,” she spoke to the egg where it lay nestled against her side.

What she had hoped would be a quick and simple explanation to the people had rapidly degenerated into absolute chaos. She had finished explaining where the egg had come from, why she had brought it to the city and what she planned on doing with it. And then one towheaded colt had begun to wave his hoof in the air like he was still in the schoolhouse. She had happily indulged him, an act she immediately regretted when he asked if they could possibly see it.

This time, there was no quieting the commotion. Celestia simply allowed the shouts and exclamations to persist as she turned to one of her attendants and whispered a command into his ear. The unicorn had blinked twice, turned on his hoof, and trotted quickly out of the room. The princess settled back and began to wait, letting the pandemonium run its course.

The unicorn returned shortly, the egg floating ahead of him. The conversations ground to a halt as the attendant crossed the room, carefully depositing the egg at Celestia’s side.

Taking advantage of the temporary lull, Sweet Grass had rushed forward to begin pushing back the crowd. “Alright, form a line, you lot! I’ll not have you pushing and fighting to get a look. You’ll all have a turn, so come on; line up!”

As each pony slowly approached the throne to dote over the egg, Celestia couldn’t help but let an exasperated sigh hiss through her teeth. As thankful as she was for the orderly progression, she couldn’t help but feel like this was going to take a very, very long time.

“But no,” she continued in a patronizing voice. “Instead, I was fortunate enough to spend the evening presenting you to half of the city.”

Stretching herself out on the floor, she gave a most unladylike groan. “Ugh, it was the Grand Galloping Gala all over again!”

To be honest, this had to be one of the worst weeks in recent memory. Monday her kingdom had seen an almost catastrophic impact event. Tuesday was an endless progression of meetings on disaster relief and aid. Wednesday she had nearly gone supernova after a shouting match between her councilors. And today there was a mass pilgrimage to her castle for a momentary peek at a dragon that wasn’t even hatched yet!

The way her luck was going, maybe tomorrow her sister would break out of the moon ahead of schedule?

Chuckling to herself, she cracked open an eye and gave the egg as stern of a look as she could muster. “You,” she rasped. “Are a troublemaker.”

Knowing that no response was forthcoming, she forced herself up and once more levitated the egg onto her back. The walk to her bedroom was slow and contemplative. She knew that the next day was going to be a bad one. After postponing the majority of her duties to research the egg, she would have an even more hectic schedule tomorrow. From there, who could say when she’d finally be caught up? Her already strained free time was on the verge of flat-lining.

With that in mind, she knew that she had only one option. She had to get back to her room, prepare that spell, find out the nature of her egg, and begin the incubation process. And she had to do it TONIGHT. Resigned to another long night, she entered the room, only to find that it was already occupied.

The unicorn colt leapt away from the stone basin he had been standing over, the glow fading from his horn as he fell into a bow. “Oh, your majesty, I didn’t expect you back so… I mean please forgive me for trespassing in your quarters!”

“Apology accepted, White Sulfur,” she said, stepping around to stare into the basin. It was filled nearly to the brim with water, and the liquid was shimmering with the telltale signs of a recently cast spell.

Looking back to him, she arced an eyebrow. “Might I ask what you were doing?”

His confidence restored, the colt levitated a book from the bed and held it up for her to see. Celestia glanced over the pages, delighted to see instructions for the transmutation spell she currently required.

“You already cast it?”

“Yes, your majesty,” he announced proudly. “When you sent me to retrieve the egg earlier today, I noticed the book and decided you’d most likely not have time to prepare it. I took it upon myself to get things ready for when you returned. I was already familiar with the first version, so adapting it wasn’t much of a problem! I just had to imbue the spell with a slight elemental charge to alter the sensory aspect to register elemental changes over temperature.”

“Impressive!” She congratulated him with a smile. “And what made you choose a tub of water as the medium?”

He glanced down shyly. “Just a hunch, your majesty. I figured that the egg’s radiation is emitted uniformly from the shell. In that case, submerging it in water would create a more profound and easily documented reaction.”

“Quite clever. So all that remains is for me to place the egg into the basin?” She cast a hesitant look at the water. “Will it be safe?”

“Oh, perfectly safe,” he reassured her. “After all, the reaction that occurs will be of the dragon’s natural element, perfectly harmless to the egg and its contents.”

Thanking the unicorn again, Celestia waited until he departed the room before she levitated the egg from her back and held it over the surface of the water. Halfway tempted to simply drop it right in, she curbed her excitement and gently lowered it to the bottom, holding it with a firm magical grip.

She lay down in front of the basin, eyes riveted to the water as she looked for a reaction. After a moment, the water’s shimmering began to subside, and then vanished. A moment passed. Then two. Finally, what looked like sparks began to pop and crackle on the water's surface. Curiously, Celestia leaned forward for a better look, and the water promptly burst into flames.

Celestia toppled over backwards, her eyes wide as the inferno billowed up towards the ceiling. Reacting instinctively, she took hold of the egg and telekinetically yanked it out of the basin. Immediately, the fire sputtered and died, clouds of steam filling the room. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stamped out the small fires that had dripped from the egg onto the carpet.

“Well, I suppose that answers that,” she muttered, walking back to the book and flipping to the section on fire subtypes.

The incubation methods made complete sense, all things considered. In order for its elemental needs to be met, it had to spend two-thirds of every day within an open flame, ideally in an enclosed space that retained as much of the heat as possible. The remaining third allowed for alternative incubation, though the minimum temperature exposure was around one-hundred twenty degrees for optimal growth.

She nodded to herself. There was sufficient space in her chambers for both methods to be carried out in safety, and magical assistance could easily keep the fire contained and self-fueling. A simple blanket enchanted with a warmth spell could suffice for the remaining time.

She read over the final bits of the page, stopping at the last footnote. Total incubation time. Of course, she had considered the possibility that the egg was freshly laid before the meteor crash, but she had assumed that even then there was only a few months’ delay before it hatched.

One-thousand ninety five days.

Three years.

Celestia felt a pang in her heart at the thought. It would take that long? She didn’t know how she could wait. She wanted to hold it, to look into its eyes and feel its heartbeat. Now, to know that three long years would pass without a sound or a movement to reassure her of its health…

She blinked a tear away and cradled it between her forelegs. She had lived so long, what was one more little wait? In time, the longing would become bearable.

She thought of the lonely days and guilty nights since her sister’s banishment, those many years ago. How she had apologized through her tears to an un-answering moon.

Yes. This too would pass. She had only to be patient.

Rubbing her cheek against the egg, she whispered to it softly. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

Her gaze turned to the window, and the silvery moon beyond. Tears glistened in her eyes. “I’ll wait for you both.”