The tavern's weathered sign creaked in the autumn wind, its faded lettering barely legible in the gathering dusk. Inside, three figures occupied a corner table well away from the evening crowd, their drinks barely touched as they waited. Dhuson Blunthammer's thick dwarven fingers drummed impatiently against his ale mug while David Smythe and the man known only as Crash watched the door with practiced casualness.

When Allissah Pidnol finally entered, her diminutive gnomish form nearly lost in the evening rush of patrons, Dhuson's drumming stopped. She navigated between tables with deliberate slowness, as if she hadn't kept them waiting for the past hour. By the time she reached their table, Dhuson's scowl could have curdled milk.

"This better be worth the wait," he growled as she settled into the empty chair.

Allissah's delicate features curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, it is." She glanced around the table, savoring their attention. "How does a dragon clutch sound?"

"A dragon clutch?" Dhuson's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Not wyverns or drakes?"

Allissah's delicate features twisted into a sharp smile. "True dragons. Earth dragons, specifically. A whole clutch of hatchlings, still young enough to be vulnerable." She glanced at their human companions—David Smythe and the man known only as Crash—before continuing. "My source is solid. Forestry Service has been all over that section of the preserve, moving real careful-like."

"Earth dragons don't leave their young unprotected," David interjected, his weathered face creased with skepticism. "There'd be at least one adult, probably two."

"Parents have to hunt sometime," Crash rumbled, speaking for the first time. His massive frame seemed to absorb the tavern's dim light. "Even dragons gotta eat."

Dhuson leaned back, his chair creaking under his solid weight. "If—and that's a big if—we could get to a hatchling, what's the market look like?"

Allissah's eyes gleamed. "Dragon parts are always valuable, but a whole hatchling? Alive? There are collectors who'd empty their vaults for something like that. Dead, we're still looking at enough gold to retire on just from the scales and organs."

"Forestry Service has been increasing patrols," David noted, taking a careful sip of his drink. "That new ranger, Riverlight—she's sharper than most. Got some of the old magic in her blood."

"Which is exactly why we need to move fast," Allissah countered. "Before they get too organized. Dragons this close to civilization? It won't stay secret long. Every poacher and treasure hunter from here to Boston will be sniffing around once word gets out."

Dhuson's fingers drummed against his mug. "We'd need specialized equipment. Containment gear if we're going for a live capture. Weapons that can punch through dragon hide if we're not."

"Already got a line on some gear," Crash offered. "Guy I know in Providence deals in exotic hunting equipment. Anti-magic nets, reinforced chains, the works."

"Won't come cheap," David warned.

"Neither will failure," Allissah shot back. "We do this right, we're set for life. We do this wrong, we're dead." She withdrew a credit crystal from her vest pocket, its surface gleaming with stored value. The crystal's verification runes pulsed softly as she placed it on the table. "Quarter million, just as an advance from my contact. Proof they're serious about acquiring dragon specimens, dead or alive. They've already transferred it—feel free to verify."

Dhuson's eyes widened slightly as he passed his thick fingers over the crystal, checking the verification runes. Even David leaned forward, professional detachment momentarily forgotten at the sight of that much money.

The tavern's background noise seemed to fade as the four studied each other. They'd worked together before—small jobs, mostly, nothing this ambitious. But the potential payoff...

"Three days," Dhuson finally decided. "Meet back here with whatever gear you can scrape together. Crash, see your contact about those nets. David, map out the patrol routes—you know how Forestry Service operates. Allissah, squeeze your source for any other details about the clutch."

They nodded, already mentally calculating costs and risks. As they rose to leave, Allissah caught Dhuson's arm.

"One more thing," she murmured. "Source mentioned something odd. Said there might be something unusual about one of the hatchlings. Wouldn't elaborate, but seemed pretty interested in that particular detail."

Dhuson grunted. "Unusual how?"

"Didn't say. But they're willing to pay extra for any information about it, even if we can't make the capture."

The dwarf's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Noted. Three days, then we move."

They separated, each heading in different directions as they melted into the tavern's evening crowd. None of them noticed the solitary figure seated at a nearby table, partially hidden behind a newspaper and what appeared to be business documentation.

Julian Smidt lowered the paper slightly, sharp eyes tracking each poacher's departure. His seemingly casual posture belied the intense focus with which he'd been monitoring their entire conversation. A dragon clutch was interesting enough, but the mention of something "unusual" about one of the hatchlings? That detail made his professional instincts sing.

He waited several minutes after the last poacher had left before carefully gathering his papers. His fingers brushed against the enchanted recording crystal in his breast pocket, confirming it had captured the entire exchange. The information would need to be properly packaged before he could shop it to his network of buyers.

A quarter million as just an advance suggested serious money behind this operation. Which meant there were likely other interested parties who'd pay handsomely just to know about it. Petricia Valeriantia, for instance, had been increasingly interested in anything relating to dragons lately.

Julian withdrew a sleek crystal and metal device from his jacket pocket, its surface gleaming with inlaid runic circuitry. The communication crystal at its center pulsed softly as he activated it with a practiced thumb swipe across the enchanted surface. He scrolled through his contacts before selecting one marked only as "FS-7."

The crystal hummed quietly as the connection established. "Hey Sarah, it's Jules," he murmured, keeping his voice low. "Remember that favor you owe me from the griffon smuggling bust?" He paused, listening to the response. "Yeah, well, I need some verification on recent Forestry Service activity. Particularly anything involving Leopa Riverlight's team." Another pause. "No, no, nothing official. Just curious about any unusual reports from the northeastern section of the preserve. Say, within the last month or so?"

He listened intently, occasionally nodding as he made mental notes. "Interesting. And you're sure about the increased patrols?" His fingers drummed thoughtfully against the table. "No, that's perfect. Just what I needed to know. And Sarah? We're still even. This never happened."

Julian ended the connection with another swipe across the crystal's surface, his expression thoughtful as he tucked the device away. The information was starting to align in interesting ways.

Outside, the wind had picked up, carrying the first hints of winter. High above, the mountain peaks loomed like ancient guardians, their secrets becoming more valuable by the minute.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warmth came first. Not Brother's familiar body heat or Mom's protective presence, but something older, deeper—like the heart of the mountain itself was pulsing against her skin. Remi's first coherent thought was how perfectly the stone cradled her body, smooth and almost unnaturally comfortable.

Her head throbbed with fragments of what the Elder Stone Dragon had shared. Dragons soaring over untouched landscapes, their forms magnificent and varied. Armies advancing with strange weapons, driving those same dragons from their ancient territories. The painful exodus across vast distances, carrying their youngest to whatever safety they could find. The images felt razor-sharp, yet somehow incomplete, like looking through windows into the past rather than experiencing the full flow of history.

"Ow," she muttered, pressing her palm against her forehead. The stone beneath her radiated steady heat, somehow easing the worst of the mental strain. Even that small word seemed to ripple through the crystalline formations around her, creating subtle patterns in the ethereal light that filtered through the clearing.

The silence struck her next. No rustling of scales against stone, no chirps or growls from her siblings, none of Mom's steady breathing. Remi pushed herself carefully to a sitting position, fighting a wave of dizziness. "Brother?" she called softly, then louder: "Anyone?"

Through her contact with the stone, she could feel them—distant vibrations that spoke of familiar presences. Brother's worried energy, Flint's nervous trembling, Forge's solid strength, Slate's quiet observation, Ember's restless concern. They were nearby, but... away. Mom's massive form created deeper tremors, while Dad's movements sketched careful patterns through the earth. All present, all close, all... waiting?

The memories flickered through her mind again, sharp and vivid: dragons retreating to the distant corners of the world, each type seeking refuge in their natural domains. Earth dragons burrowing deep into mountain ranges, ice dragons disappearing into the frozen peaks of the north, water dragons plunging into the darkest ocean depths, fire dragons descending into volcanic chambers, wind dragons soaring to the highest peaks and the thin air of the stratosphere. Each choosing isolation in their elemental havens over extinction. The pain of that diaspora still echoed in her chest, though she couldn't tell if it was her own reaction or some remnant of the Elder Stone Dragon's emotion.

"Why show me this?" she whispered to the empty clearing. "Why those moments?" The crystalline formations caught light in patterns that reminded her of those ancient eyes, but offered no answers. Just more questions, more uncertainty about what it all meant.

Her bare feet tingled where they touched the warm stone as she carefully stood. The ground felt different somehow, more... aware? No, that wasn't quite right. More present, maybe. As if the very earth had shifted from background to active participant in... whatever this was.

The memories themselves felt strange—intense but selective, like carefully chosen scenes from a much longer story. Remi pressed her hand against the nearest crystalline formation, trying to make sense of what she'd been shown. Dragons in their full glory, yes, but also their systematic persecution, their allies among the native tribes, their eventual retreat from the world. Each memory crystal-clear yet somehow contained, preserved like insects in amber rather than the overwhelming flood she'd initially feared.

Why these particular moments? Why show her anything at all? The Elder Stone Dragon's presence had been so overwhelming, so ancient and powerful. Surely it hadn't shared these memories randomly? But trying to guess at the motives of something that old, that alien to human thought... Remi's head throbbed again at the attempt.

Looking around the empty clearing, at the crystalline formations that seemed to shift and change with each new angle of light, Remi felt the weight of something larger than herself. Not just the memories she'd been shown, but their implications. The divide between dragons and the rest of the world suddenly felt more real, more personal than ever before. She'd been given windows into that history, but what was she supposed to do with what she'd seen?

The warmth from the stone pulsed steadily, neither increasing nor decreasing, simply... present. Waiting? The air itself seemed charged with potential, as if this moment was balanced on the edge of something important. Through her feet, still pressed against the living rock, Remi could feel the attention of the mountain itself—or perhaps something far more ancient that moved within it.

"I don't understand," she admitted to the empty clearing. "I don't know what this means." The crystalline formations caught her words, reflecting them back in patterns of light that offered no clarification, only further mysteries to unravel.

Remi looked down at the stone formation she was resting in, realization slowly dawning. This wasn't just a perfectly shaped alcove—it was a living limb of the Elder Stone Dragon, curved to cradle her unconscious form. The smooth, warm surface beneath her wasn't just stone, but scales of granite and slate, ancient beyond comprehension.

Carefully, she began to climb down, each movement measured and deliberate. The crystalline formations in the dragon's scales caught the light as she moved, creating patterns that seemed to track her descent. When her bare feet finally touched the regular earth of the clearing, she felt the difference immediately—this ground was alive in its own way, but nothing like the ancient, aware stone she'd been resting upon.

Only after she had backed up several steps did the massive form begin to move. The stone itself seemed to ripple, layers of granite and slate shifting like living tissue. As she watched, the Elder Stone Dragon's head emerged from its seemingly geological form, crystalline structures rearranging themselves until she found herself looking into one massive eye, larger than her entire body.

The Elder Stone Dragon's consciousness touched Remi's mind again, but this time it felt different—less overwhelming, as if the ancient being was deliberately restraining its mental force. Even this gentler touch made her head spin with its complexity and power.

Through the family bond, she could sense her siblings' mental presence—not thoughts or even coherent emotions, but something far more primitive. Brother's mind-voice was the strongest, but even his mental touch was like a baby's pre-verbal cooing, pure sensation without structure or intent. The others were even simpler: Forge's presence a warm burble of contentment, Slate's a quiet ripple of awareness, Ember's a sleepy pulse, and Flint's a nervous flutter.

Remi tried to respond to the Elder Stone Dragon, drawing on her human memories to reach for complex ideas. *MANY-SMALL-ONES-FIGHT*, she projected carefully, the thought clumsy but far more structured than her siblings' infant mind-touches could manage. *DRAGONS-FEW-WAIT-LONG* came next, each concept requiring intense concentration to form.

The crystalline eye shifted slightly, patterns within it rearranging in response to her primitive attempts at communication. Remi felt the ancient being's surprise—not at what she was trying to say, but at her ability to say anything at all. Through their tenuous connection, she sensed that her siblings' mental babbling was normal for their age. They wouldn't begin real projection for years.

Her next attempt was harder: *HIDE-NO-CHOOSE-SAFE-PLACE*, trying to express her understanding of the dragons' strategic retreat. The mental strain made her temples throb, but she pushed on, drawing on her dual nature—human memories helping to structure thoughts her dragon-self shouldn't yet be capable of forming.

Brother pressed closer, his mind-voice a soft burble of pre-verbal comfort. He couldn't project actual thoughts or even emotions yet, but his mental presence was soothing in its simplicity. The others huddled nearby, their infant consciousness adding to the gentle background hum of family connection—pure being without thought or intent.

The Elder Stone Dragon's reply came carefully measured, as if testing the limits of what her developing mind could handle. Each concept was isolated, presented separately: *UNDERSTANDING* [pause] *UNEXPECTED* [pause] *POTENTIAL*. Even these simple ideas threatened to overwhelm her, but she clung to them, her unusual mental development allowing her to grasp what her siblings could only experience as washing waves of sensation.

The ground trembled as the great being shifted, stone flowing like water in ways her human mind struggled to comprehend. She felt her parents returning—Mother's presence a complex weave of thought and emotion, Father's a more focused beam of protective intent. Their adult communications flowed around and through her, carrying layers of meaning she could sense but not yet understand.

Brother's mental burble brushed against her consciousness, as instinctive and pre-verbal as a newborn's first sounds. The other siblings added their own tiny mind-voices to the family bond—not thoughts or feelings, just pure awareness of existence and connection. Remi marveled at the difference between their infant mental states and her own more structured attempts. She was like a young child learning to speak while surrounded by newborns who could only coo and gurgle.

The Elder Stone Dragon's final communication resonated through the stone beneath them. Most of it was far too complex for Remi to grasp, but she caught fragments: *WATCH* [pause] *GROW* [pause] *POTENTIAL*. The concepts came spaced apart, deliberate accommodations to her developing abilities.

As the massive being's form merged back into the mountain, Remi sagged against Brother's familiar scales, mentally exhausted. His response was immediate and instinctive—not even a coherent emotion, just a soft mental nuzzle of presence and connection. The other hatchlings' mind-voices burbled quietly in the background, a gentle chorus of pre-verbal consciousness.

Mother's tail curled around them all as darkness fell. Through their family bond, Remi felt the stark difference between her siblings' infant mental states and her own more developed, if still limited, mind-voice. She was caught between worlds in yet another way—too advanced for normal hatchling development, yet far from true draconic communication.

The clearing grew quiet as the last crystalline formations faded into ordinary stone. Remi's head throbbed from the effort of reaching beyond her current abilities, but a new understanding was forming. She might be limited in her mental communication, but she was developing faster than any normal hatchling. Like her unique form, her mind was charting its own path between human and dragon nature.

As stars emerged above the mountain peaks, Remi felt Brother's simple mental presence beside her, his mind-voice as innocent and pre-verbal as a newborn's first awareness. The other siblings added their own tiny burbles to the family bond, each one still in the earliest stages of consciousness. They were family, regardless of their different developmental stages. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together—each growing and learning at their own pace, each contributing their own unique nature to their extraordinary bond.

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