After Deitrick left the room with the elders, Isolde listened to their footsteps grow distant. She looked down at the child in her arms. His eyelids were drooping, nearly covering up his eyes’ golden shimmer. She stroked his shiny golden hair and kissed his forehead. He yawned, looking up at her with peculiar awareness. She smiled back down at him.

Isolde squeezed him close. His steady breathing revealed he was sound asleep. Her heart felt like it was going to burst. ‘I am so thankful for you, my baby. I love you so much. So, so much.’ The door opened, interrupting her thoughts.

The door opened and Deitrick walked in with a resolute look on his face, ready to brave whatever came next. He opened his mouth to talk to his son, but Isolde lifted her finger to her lips. “Shhh. He’s asleep,” she whispered. Deitrick wanted to hide his face in his hands; what had he expected? No matter how mature he seemed, his son was still only a baby.

“Isolde, what should we do now? No. Don’t answer that, we’ll think about it later. Let’s just go to sleep. I’m exhausted, and it looks like little Ezekiel is too.”

“Alright. I could use a good night's sleep before trying to work everything out. But where should Ezekiel sleep? This room is an absolute mess.” She gestured with her chin, pointing out the terrible state the bedroom was in.

“His small body makes things easier. You know the only reason we needed a nursery, especially one this large, was to fit our baby while he was still too young to human form-- and too large to fit in the rest of the house. Since that problem is solved, he can sleep in any of the main rooms.”

“How about the west wing?” Isolde pondered.

“It's also a mess right now.”

“I know, but it is the place we thought he would stay when he got older. A few stacks of old books and some dust are easily solvable problems. It's best not to change a child's sleeping quarters too much, right? Plus, he'll be closer to us that way,” she contested. He smiled and shook his head.

“Alright. If you think that's best. The west wing it is.” He didn't dare argue with her. In matters of the country he had no rival, but she ruled over everything else. She headed towards the door, carrying Ezekiel on her hip. He wrapped his arm around her child-free half and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she passed him. She blushed but kept walking.

“Come on, let's go.”

*          *          *

She peaked through the sliver of an open door that led to the main bedroom in the lower west wing, where Ezekiel was now sleeping soundly.

He was completely passed out, his tiny body sprawled over the bed. She smiled, watching his chest rise and fall, and hearing the soft sounds of his snores. She was certainly worried about what had happened, but her son’s safety mattered foremost. Since he was safe and secure, she could rest easy.

She shut the door quietly and peddled down the hall, doing her best to avoid making any noise. She crept into the main house, before lengthening her stride and moving normally. She grabbed hold of one of the senior housekeepers and instructed her the make sure no one bothered her baby while he was sleeping.

Once she had that taken care of, she headed off to her own room. She rounded the corner and pulled open her door. Her husband caught her and gave her a peck on the cheek, before continuing to prepare for bed.

He closed the burgundy curtains over the window while she lit the candles scattered around their bed. Deitrick looked over his shoulder at her while taking off his ornate sash. “I think I should ask again, do we have any idea what to do now? Is our son really this talented, is there something wrong with him?” Even his fatherly pride couldn't stretch so far as to brush away such a unique occurrence of a baby, a baby, being able to walk, talk, and, most importantly, use magic energy.

“There weren't warning signs of this either.” He struggled into sleep clothes while still talking. “I guess, he did make a squeak a week or so ago, but that isn't completely unheard of. Your nephew did the same, right? I mean, he turned out to be very talented, but nothing like Ezekiel!”

He turned towards her and they moved to their respective sides of the bed. He bent down and started to fold his covers back, but Isolde just stood there, hands behind her back. The candlelight flickered across her face, illuminating her high cheek bones and casting shadows flickering across her jaw.

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He glanced up at her, and she started to speak. “Honey, Love, there is something I should have told you. I, hmmm, at the time I didn't think it to be important. Or rather, I didn't think it to be real.” She started gesturing with her hands to explain. “I mean, by the time I got up, it was all normal, he was normal, everything was fine.” He stood.

“It's okay, Isolde. Just say it.”

“Alright, well, it was about four months ago, when Ezekiel hatched. You know, all dragons of royal lineage have golden scales, right? Of course Ezekiel does too. But, but he didn't at first. Now, most dragons have scales the color of their attributed element, or occasionally something like purple or white.

“And a few dragons can change their color; the dragons with multiple attributes. Usually the shift isn't much, just a change in shade or intensity, but, rarely, it's a full color switch. Well,uh, Ezekiel isn't like that. I could have been dreaming, but in light of recent events, it's becoming more likely that what I saw was true.”

She continued while Deitrick walked around the bed to her. He sat down,  pulling her with him. “Dearest. I know all this. What does it have to do with our son?”

She sniffed, “I didn't get a perfect look, and even now it seems like it was a dream, but our son looked, looked... he looked very strange when he was born. Mesmerizing. When he just hatched, I picked him up and set him down on his cushion. When I got him all cleaned up, I realized he wasn't gold, like you or I, or the rest of our families.

“I thought I was dreaming then because I knew there was no way that a non-golden dragon was our son; the only blood that flows through his veins is royal. At the very least he should be a murky golden color! Anyways, when I looked down at him, I couldn't look away. His body was silver, but not like the metal. More like a silver-plated mirror. His scales were like crystal, so clear, that against his silver skin they looked silver themselves. Until he shifted, and they rippled, shifting just enough for me to tell they were perfectly colorless.

“Even more unbelievable was what happened on his scales. While I was watching him I noticed streaks of color flashing across his body. Like miniature lightning strikes, they ran from his snout, through his scales, and up to the tip of his tail. These this small flashes were so thin, and so fast, that they were nearly impossible to see. While I was watching I caught sight of a red one, a deep blue, and darkish one (it was the easiest to see because it seemed to suck all the light from the area surrounding it).

“I'm really sorry, I should have said something earlier, but I promise, I thought I imagined the whole thing. Especially when I woke up the next morning, and his scales were a vibrant gold, just like us. Just like they should be.” She seemed close to tears.

The accumulated stress, from having a baby, to the panic she had just described, to what happened today, made it difficult for her to keep it together. Deitrick lifted her off the bed. He kissed her on the forehead, then the cheek, then on the lips.

“I'm not mad, alright? And Ezekiel is going to be fine. Remember, most of this is the result of his hereditary memories [“hahahahahahah!”-- Narrator]. We can get everything sorted out tomorrow.” He rolled down her covers and guided her under them. He pulled comforter back up again, tenderly tucking it around her.

“The most important thing right now is to sleep well so we can wake up refreshed and ready to make a plan. Comprendo?”

“Hmmm.” She nodded. He turned to leave, but she grabbed his hand. She reached up and gripped hold of the collar of his night shirt. She tugged him closer to her, and he leaned over, until his nose almost touched hers. She lifted her head a little higher and whispered in his ear.

“Thank you, Love. I'm so grateful to have you. I don't know what I’d do if I didn't.” She smooched his cheek, then shoved him teasingly away. “Now go to bed!” He smiled, glad at her change of mood.

“Ah, you cruel, cruel wife. Not letting me do anything. How mean of you.” He joked.

“Aish. Just go to sleep, I'm far too tired.” She waved him towards his side of the bed and rolled over so she faced towards the wall. He climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up. “Good night.”

“Sleep tight.” She commanded the water elements in the room to gather above the candles. One by one, she ordered the water-energy to condense and put out the tiny flames. She did it so deftly that she avoided getting the wicks wet. She exhaled slowly, and fell into a deep slumber.