It was a curious thing to behold, and more than a little unsettling to some eyes, to see an enormous creature poised and standing fast in the open sky. Its pale and airy wings didn't beat or labour to hold it aloft, nor did they shudder with effort as one might expect. Rather, it seemed as though the air itself had agreed to bear its weight, so that the creature lingered there much like a leaf upon still water, floating rather than flying.

  At a height that brushed the lower skirts of the clouds, three shapes faced one another in a manner that could only be called a standoff. They were dragons, one newly born and two grown to full stature. Though none of them moved with haste or menace, the wind itself carried a quiet strain, as if burdened by an unspoken quarrel. It slid and curled around scaled hides without resistance, taking that tension with it and bringing it back again. The elder dragons held themselves at a careful distance from the hatchling, their postures lacking open aggression, yet bound tight with restraint and caution.

  Between them, the air shimmered with faint and wavering distortions, like heat rising from stone in summer. These were empathic waves, sent forth in earnest but fruitless attempts at communion. Their passage could only be seen where the air bent slightly out of true, as though the world itself hesitated there. All of these efforts came from one side alone, for the hatchling didn't answer or acknowledge them in any fashion.

  This one-sided silence made the adult dragons strain in response.

  They had perceived a faint lag in resonance, a delay that sat wrongly with their senses, one that shouldn't exist at such close range. It was a misalignment that troubled them deeply. Again and again, they urged the hatchling to follow them away from this place.

  Yet the young dragon remained where it was, though it wasn't in perfect stillness. Its body held a subtle angle, slightly offset, as if it were balancing upon something unseen. Minute adjustments rippled through its frame, corrections so small they scarcely registered, yet none of them became true movement. In answer, the empathic waves grew tighter and more hurried, their rhythm shortening with rising anxiety.

  In reply to this mounting tension, the very pressure of the breeze seemed to harden. The hatchling felt compelled to correct its slant over and over, and with each small motion came a fresh emotional surge from the elders, heavy with apprehension. Thus a feedback loop was born, one neither side could step away from. It was a state they knew couldn't be allowed to persist, yet they didn't know how to halt it, nor how much time remained before it resolved itself in a manner they feared.

  Still the breeze slipped along the newborn dragon’s scales, guided harmlessly aside. Through brief lapses into a neighboring dimension, it denied the pull of gravity, its inner organs flaring with intense heat to fuel the effort. Though its soul was battered again and again by the pleas and entreaties of the dragons and their pilots, it wouldn't yield or move.

  'Ughh... I feel exhausted. Maybe we should go with them.'

  The hatchling’s indifference softened and shifted into a faint spark of excitement. It let her know that it had been waiting all this time for her to decide. If this was her wish, then it was content to follow it.

  'Yes, it's fine. They don't mean harm, they are just worried?'

  'Erm?'

  'What's this???'

  Seralyth snapped her eyes open, her pupils trembling in shock, only for a burst of light to strike her senses like a sudden flash, leaving her reeling.

  "Woaah?!"

  In a half-conscious effort to move, she felt weightlessness drag through her body in an unfamiliar way. Acting on instinct, she seized the first thing before her, struggling not to topple, her fingers scraping wildly for purchase. The crown upon her head slipped free and shattered into a dozen fragments that fell away into the open sky.

  'Dragon scales? W-What?' she cried in her heart, panic rising.

  Then a deeper concern seized her.

  'No, this emotion isn't mine.'

  The hatchling was panicking as well. It hadn't expected its companion to nearly lose her balance so soon after waking. With great effort, it steadied its vectors, as its distress flowed plainly through the bond they shared.

  'You... are my dragon?'

  Seralyth asked tentatively within her mind, the last of her grogginess swept aside by the sheer absurdity of her situation. The reply came not as words, but as a weighty and undeniable confirmation.

  Then explanation followed, pouring into her awareness. The flood of information struck her thoughts like a hammer, swelling them like an overfilled balloon, close to bursting under the strain.

  'Slowly! Slowlyy!'

  A sense of regret and apology refracted into her mind. Seralyth released a long sigh and drew her focus inward, striving to understand the predicament she, or rather they, now faced.

  'Huh. I didn't expect dragons to be this adorable.'

  At once, embarrassment and vexation burst through Seralyth’s thoughts, sharp enough to bring on a headache. She clicked her tongue in surprise. When she realized that the hatchling had refused to move until she awoke, she found the notion endearing. Even this unguarded thought slipped across the bond.

  'We'll need to figure this out... but for now, follow them.'

  Agreement answered her without hesitation.

  The adult dragons, who had been held at bay during this exchange, at last released an empathic wave of relief. The tension ebbed away, quiet and uncelebrated.

  ???

  Seralyth set her foot upon a landing place that was firm beneath her sole, of the good brown earth and well settled, steady as a hill-path in fair weather and beyond any doubt grounded and sure. This place belonged to a worked enclosure, an edifice of instruments and careful craft, a kind of laboratory raised not far at all from the First Bond itself, so that its walls and girders seemed almost to listen to that ancient presence.

  With one hand laid flat against her breast, she drew breath again and again, making earnest and repeated efforts to quiet the wild and racing beat of her heart, which thudded as though it wouldn't be gainsaid.

  Fine threads of unease stole into her feelings then, not with a rush or a leap, but creeping softly and deliberately, advancing as mist creeps along a valley floor, cautious and patient in its coming.

  'No, it's fine. I promise you. Truly. I simply wasn't prepared for a flying experience such as this,' she said, shaping reassurance as carefully as she could.

  Desiring to comfort the hatchling, who felt a small and tender pang of guilt at her distress, she rose upon the tips of her toes and reached upward to lay her hand against its scales in a gentle pat. The newborn dragon hadn't in truth come down to the ground at all, but hovered instead a few measured paces above it, held aloft as lightly as a thought.

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  'Like, I was prepared to be inside you, not outsid... this sounds far too strange,' she added, faltering and chiding herself even as the words formed.

  Reassurance flowed back into her mind, spreading like warmth from a hearth. The hatchling understood well that its body would in time grow to sustain proper chambers where Seralyth might dwell within it, and it held no objection at all to such a future.

  'Or rather, you are looking forward to it? How can you possibly know all of this anyway?' she asked, wonder mingling with disbelief.

  In this exchange that passed without spoken word or outward sign, it made known to her that it had been born already knowing such matters. It believed, with the simple certainty of new life, that its progenitor had woven this knowledge into its very being, stitched into bone and breath and flame from the beginning.

  'That's rather neat, I suppose. I will test what you know later. They are coming now,' she thought, turning her attention outward.

  Without pausing to consider her motion, Seralyth stepped forward, placing herself squarely between the hatchling and the oncoming press of researchers and soldiers who now poured steadily into the landing zone. It was, to an onlooker with leisure to notice, a faintly comical sight, for the dragon shifted at once and mirrored her stance exactly, hovering behind her as faithfully as a shadow.

  A vague stiffness settled upon the air, as though the space itself had drawn tight. The ordered ranks of scholars and soldiers held themselves at a respectful distance from the princess and her hatchling, yet even so they formed a ring about them, enclosing them without touching. From among these ranks, two men and one woman stepped forward with measured pace.

  Seralyth didn't know their names, yet their garb was known to her eye. One man and the woman wore the layered coats and marked fabrics of the learned, showing them to be researchers, specialists, or professors of some standing. The remaining man was plainly an officer of high rank, as declared by the cut and insignia of his military uniform.

  "Your Highness." All three inclined themselves in a formal greeting, precise and practised.

  "Greetings," Seralyth replied shortly. The hatchling reflected her reserve, remaining utterly still in the air behind her.

  "I am Professor Halric Morcant, charged with the oversight of this year's ceremony. I trust that you understand the necessity of these arrangements?" asked the man, whose coat bore the same emblem worn by the other scholars.

  "Standard procedures, I hope?" she answered, a sharpness entering her voice despite herself.

  "Indeed. May we have your permission?" He gave a small nod, and a faint, knowing smile touched his face.

  Seralyth sneered inwardly at that smile, but reason followed swiftly upon the feeling. It was plain enough that they wouldn't accept a refusal, yet the care with which they sought to reassure her suggested that no hidden designs lay beneath their words. Moreover, she was a princess, and more than that, a princess bonded to a dragon acknowledged by the First itself.

  Very few would dare to oppose such a pair openly or without consequence.

  "Very well, but I must be present," she said at last, offering a measured compromise.

  "Of course."

  The words had scarcely left his lips when the researchers surged forward to their appointed labours. Only then did Seralyth truly notice the fierce and unrelenting hunger for knowledge that burned in their eyes, bright and sharp as forge-fire, and its intensity unsettled her deeply.

  Arrays of instruments were set out and awakened with streams of mana, prepared to cast higher and more searching forms of「Analyse」,「Inspect」, and「Examine」. Devices of magitech were brought forth, carefully contrived to allow the hatchling to be conveyed within the facility without harm or strain. Soldiers moved swiftly to clear the surrounding space, ensuring that the procedures might proceed without hindrance or interruption.

  'It's all right, don't worry. It's mostly just a check-up, to confirm that you are well,' she sent, shaping calm as best she could.

  To her surprise, reassurance didn't return to her at all. Instead, she felt confusion, mild but unmistakable. The newborn dragon wasn't troubled in the least. Gentle waves of curiosity flowed back toward her, asking in return whether she herself was well.

  'Ahem.'

  Seralyth experienced then, for the first time in her life, something very like a mental cough of embarrassment, as her thoughts faltered and she found herself at a loss.

  ???

  Within the halls of the facility, beyond a broad window set thick with tempered glass, researchers bent over their instruments and tapped briskly at their tablets, while others pored over streams of delayed data with fierce and restless eagerness. They set themselves to the work of cataloguing every smallest detail, every redundancy, every slight misalignment, and they refused outright to discard even a single point, however minor it first appeared.

  As the hours wore on, their eyes widened in a growing wonder, and their hunger for discovery didn't abate, but was instead fed and sharpened by each contradiction they uncovered.

  Beyond the strengthened glass, a young woman and a hatchling waited without haste, facing one another in quiet companionship. The size difference had been set aside, and though their exchange couldn't be seen or heard by most senses, it was plain enough that they were in communion. Around the dragon, a host of arrays continued their careful labours, sustaining its long, ship-like body within a lattice of rings and supports, each device humming softly as it fulfilled its appointed task.

  "It follows the expected skeletal symmetry, but its bones are lighter than the benchmark."

  "Scale measurements are three percent outside the recorded parameters."

  "The wing structure is self-sustaining beyond known dragon limits."

  "Array seven is returning no target. Recalibrate."

  "Its thermal output exceeds the established criteria."

  "Gravitational distortion under sublime control."

  "So it is the empathic emissions."

  At that final conclusion, the low murmur of voices fell away, and the chamber grew still. By all theories accepted and taught, a newborn dragon shouldn't have been capable of such precise mastery.

  "So, what should we do?" Professor Halric asked with care, weighing each word.

  "Are they related to the First's warning?"

  Admiral Veyron Solmyr of the Imperium was a man well into his forties. He had risen through the ranks not by feats of resonance or bond, but by a sharp and patient strategic mind that had reshaped the manner in which draconic fleets moved and manoeuvred across the wide reaches of the cosmos.

  "Nope. Not in the way you're thinking, at least. It's no coincidence, that much I'm sure of, but I doubt it was the cause. The First wouldn't have sanctioned the bond otherwise."

  Rynna Bellis spoke next, one of the Interstellar Dracology Institute's most accomplished researchers. She was credited with dozens of breakthroughs, most notably in studies that linked draconic biology with the arcane affinities of their companions.

  "We have no records of an inverted bond, though."

  "And that's precisely why it's fascinating. If it can be reproduced..."

  "It will overturn centuries of research."

  Halric cut her off with a weary sigh. Convincing learned minds that decades of careful study had been flawed was no small task, even when the evidence stood plainly before them.

  "And many may attempt the same, only to fail utterly."

  "Bleh. That's a dreary way to look at it. Think of the potential. The potentiaaal."

  "I care only for the present," Veyron snorted, turning his gaze once more toward the window. "She is calm as well, far too calm."

  "Her Highness' vitals are stable. There are no changes in her resonance either. There has been no need for any emotional dampening."

  The data displayed upon Halric's pad showed no sign of abnormality.

  "It's intriguing, mm. Perhaps she doesn't know it herself. She did black out, after all."

  "Perhaps, but it matters little. We will proceed as planned. Halric, how did the Imperial Palace respond?"

  "The Imperial Magister sanctioned the initiative and the Emperor himself approved it. Her Highness is permitted to enlist in the Interstellar Dracology Institute program."

  "Yoohoo!"

  Rynna flashed them a V sign, bright and unabashed. Both men answered her with long, tired sighs.

  "Take this seriously, Rynna. This is not one of your personal projects. The princess may well become a strategic asset to the Imperium."

  "I know, I know. Let me enjoy it for a moment. I'll do my best to support the bond and ensure that it functions as it should."

  "Good."

  "If that is settled, I will begin preparations. We have never transported a hatchling off-world so soon after the ceremony."

  "Ooh, let me give you a hand!"

  "Of course. That would be... most helpful."

  In this brief exchange, spoken and answered and later echoed and debated in countless other halls and among many circles until the night itself wore thin, the course of Seralyth's fate was set.

  Even so, she remained calm, serene as a frozen pond beneath a winter sky. In a wide chamber within the facility, resting atop her hatchling and gazing through a high window at the scattered stars, she felt a deep and quiet sense of expectation rising within her. The newborn dragon felt it also, a restless yearning stirring in its young soul as it watched the vast heavens spread before it.

  For different reasons, yet bound fast together, they shared this longing. That the great astral bodies of the cosmos, moving like dark giants and blotting out stars with their presence, would be the next place to which their journey would carry them.