The egg knew that it had just spent five days – five intermittent cycles of sunrise and sunset – in a creaking, uncomfortable place. It knew about before, when countless days had passed in a comfortable haze, cushioned by leaves and sand in a breezy oasis, surrounded by the soft sounds of growled voices that it instinctively knew and trusted. It had been cradled in these sounds and feelings, its knowledge of where it was settling into something solid, something like the concept of home.

And then the echos of the voices in his shell had ceased, and that sense of home and safety had been rent away. It had listened in its shell to two days of a rattling, jostling, creaking wagon that made it flail it's undeveloped little claws and tail ineffectively in the cramped shell, trying to keep its balance. Two more days had passed in stillness, a breathless stillness if the little creature inside had needed to breathe yet, surrounded by muffled sounds of restlessness. And then it was moving, carried hither and thither, until finally, after the sounds of heavy pounding, it was at rest. The little khehora, growing in its shell, counted the days and knew that it was on a journey. Would it move again? Would it stay? It did not know its destination, only that it was moving. Moving was not the time to break the shell, and it was not ready to do so anyway. The shell was too thick and it was too weak, undeveloped. All the little creature to do was wait, and wait, and wait as it's heartbeats ticked off the passing of time and its sense of days stretched into weeks...

~~~

It was hot in Ashen city, horribly miserably hot. It was the kind of heat that reeked from the cobblestones and rose like a fume to the highest towers of the city, that bore down with all the merriness of summer on it's feathered inhabitants. It was held in the vast stone walls by the dust and pollution that the Orderites spewed into the air with their industry. Whether it was Seren's punishment or blessing was a matter of varying opinion, but one thing was clear – Laesara longed to be out of it. Riding, perhaps, or swimming, or hunting, or anything that would get her out of the bright stone oven that Ashen city had become.

It wasn't the heat that Laesara hated – on the contrary, she thrived in it. In the cold, she found herself often sluggish and unmotivated, conditions she then had to spend time and effort hiding. The heat required no such effort – she ate better, thought better, felt better in the spring and summer, and she looked forward to the warm months every year. It was a happy coincidence, for her, that her birthday happened to fall right in the middle of the hottest months.

So it was not the heat, but the humidity, that bothered her so as she tried, unsuccessfully, to cool her face with a fan. Normally, she spent her summers outside the city enjoying the airy solitude of her rooms in their Hastar ranch, riding some of the fine beasts they bred there, or hunting with her father in the golden forests of Serenia. But this year, she had to be here in this place where the movements of her fan did nothing more but beat the hot, moist air against her face like the panting of some unpleasant and uncouth beast.

She was respelendent in a crimson dress with delicate silks draped around her, not unlike a flower. She had been looking forward to wearing it all year, had had it specially designed for the occaison. But she had forgotten to account for the miserable heat and now the dress wilted against her, it's intricate petals hanging limply in the air.

She looked over at her bodyguard pleadingly and he gave her a sympathetic look, but he knew there was no escaping this damnable city. She knew it too: she had to be here. It was her birthday, and she was finally coming into what was considered 'marriagable age' for a young noblewomen. Of course, the barbaric days of mating children to ancient widowers were long over, and with Laesara being a part of the Orderite military, she would probably not be married off until she was older and more firmly established as an officer. But the tradition still held, and this this birthday party would be celebrated with more than the usual frivilousity and for an extra day. That meant two hot, exhausting, and dangerous days of social warfare and revelry.

Fortunately, the first day was limited only to family, which wasn't much of a limitation considering how well-married, populous, and wealthy the Wymrith family was. Still, the next day would include friends as well, hers and theirs, and it would be comparatively enormous. Laesara was perfectly capable of handling herself in a party – long gone were the days when she had become overwhelmed and needed to retire to the library – but this one would certainly try her ability to handle a crowd.

Of course, when the party ended, the talks would begin about who she would marry. Not that there had not already been discussions, of course. There had been talks of who to marry her off to when she'd been a babe in the womb, and they had resumed very soon after she had been 'returned'. Those discussions had included speculation on whether she would ever be suitable for marriage, of course, but she had grown into a very suitable young noblewoman. This party marked when the discussions would begin in earnest, suitors weighed and thrown aside on the basis of a thousand details of personality, connections, and kin.

Perhaps she would even have a say in them. For now, she did her best to keep up a pleasant, pearly smile as she engaged her countless uncles, aunts, and cousins, greeting and complementing and maneuvering in the arena of her birthday party. There were connections to be made here and expectations to meet (and exceed). And Laesara was determined to do just that.

~~~

The party of the first day was finally concluded and Laesara took great pleasure in peeling off her dress and letting the drier air of the room brush against her skin, briefly, before putting on a modest – though light - dressing gown. She called in a servant to prepare a bath – something cool and refreshing – to be drawn and made her way to her room to relax and be alone.

She enjoyed her family, make no mistake, and it was pleasant to be around them, but it was also dangerous. Her kin were as fanged and deadly as any wild dragon. Laesara's mixed heritage still caused a few disapproving sniffs, but she refused to cower before her relatives. She'd had to comport herself to the greatest extent of her ability at all times at that party, and she'd had to do it without the support of Malikai or her bodyguard. Malikai was not permitted at the party, and Malesmech... well, he stayed to the side and looked imposing, as was his job.

He would likely mock her later, when they had a moment to themselves. She could imagine him now: 'Girl' he'd say, 'You wanted to be a part of this prissy garden of people, so don't be all upset if it decides to rain on your petals.' Or something to that effect. Either way, between the humidity, dealing with her more disapproving relatives, working the whole crowd, and taking on most of the parties attention as was her duty as the birthday girl, Laesara was exhausted. She looked forward to a nice soak, some mulled honey, and perhaps a look at one of her books before she settled in for the night.

However, as she made her way up the steps to her rooms, she also anticipated something further: her favorite uncle, Andorynn, had told her at the party that his present – the usual custom at birthday parties – had already been delivered and installed in her room for her. Aside from that, he refused to reveal its nature, only smiling that knowing smile of his and assuring her that she would like it.

It was a delightful torment to speculate on what he possibly could have gotten for her, and she hesitated outside the door to her bedroom, contemplating the possibilities. She had no doubt that she would like her gift: Andorynn, after all, knew her better than anyone else, better, even, than her father and her bodyguard. If he had chosen a present for her, he would have chosen it with care and it would be perfectly suited for her interests now and in the predictable future.

But what could it be? Not a new weapon, surely, nor armor or clothes: Laesara had plenty such things already, of exceptional (or at least official) quality. A book perhaps, but no – the books already in the libraries of the wealthy made for excellent excuses for visits and exchanges, and there was little library space already in her father's properties, dominated as it was with souvenirs and hunting trophies.

A pet, perhaps? No, it could hardly be that. She knew that assessing animals was not among her uncle's vast skill set, and his connections (that she knew of anyway, there was always the chance that he had some she did not know of) did not include people he would entrust with such a complicated task... aside from her, of course. If he wanted to buy her a pet as a gift, surely that would take the form of something more along the lines of a private trip where she would choose the animal and he would purchase it. And yet, he had said that it had already been delivered.

So, what could it be?

Tentatively, she opened the door and beheld her room. It was, mostly, as she had left it, aside from tidying by the servants of the house. She could hear water being drawn for her bath and a bird outside of her window as she entered, her feet sinking into the soft carpet that padded her room.

There! By her bed, beside the desk and window she wrote at and beneath a carved tusk of some fearsome beast, was a crate, stuffed with cloth and hay. Upon this nest of material lay... An egg! It was dusky colored and massive, easily the size of her forearm if not more. She went over to it and investigated it, running her hands over the smoothness of the shell, letting loose a joyful laugh as she did so.

It was a khehora egg, a present that – as usual for her uncle – was both perfect and unexpected. She would have to find an appropriate way to thank him later and perhaps learn his tricks. How had he gotten a hold of such a rare and exquisite thing? How had he known it was the most absolutely perfect gift for her? One day, she hoped, she would be as adept as he was at such things.

For now, though, she was content to enjoy the fruits of her uncle's perceptiveness.