Gern stood stoically, watching his mate, Niri, fuss over three little eggs. Despite his appearance, deep inside, he was a nervous wreck…
They were in their little hovel, a shack really. Made up of scraps of wood, stone, and whatever else they could find. And compared to some of the newer buildings? It was destitute even for kobolds. However, there was something important and special about it.
It was theirs.
Gern and Niri both had built it, together, alone. That was a point of pride that Gern would not let anyone take away from them…
A loud banging at his door nearly sent him through the roof.
“Gern! It’s Lorem! I came–” The door flew open, revealing the massive elf. He had to hunch over as he entered. “Oh thank the gods, I thought I’d miss it!”
Gern had mostly recovered but it was Niri who spoke first. “Strong Master! Why come?” she asked, looking flustered with a hint of irritation.
“Gern invite…” Gern muttered, looking placatingly to his mate. Gern make mistake…
“Is…it a problem?” Lorem took a step back towards the door. “I can leave–”
“Strong Master stay, no problem.” She faced Gern and glowered. There was an icy rage hiding in her soft tone. “Gern no say Gern invite Master. Home not clean. How Niri clean when Gern no say Gern invite Master?”
The red kobold winced at his mate’s restrained anger. “G-Gern sorry–”
“Gern will be sorry–”
The distinct sound of an egg cracking caught everyone’s attention. Gern said a silent prayer, both for the distraction and for his yet to be hatched children.
The blue kobold turned her full attention back towards the eggs and began to hum. Meanwhile, Lorem approached and leaned further down towards the red kobold.
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“What is she doing?” he whispered.
“Mate calling for young. It old… What the word?”
“Um… Tradition?” Lorem suggested.
“Yes! Tra-dih-shun.” He tested the word several times before continuing. “It old tradihshun. Watcher say it help, say it old chant.” Gern shrugged. “Gern no sure if work but Gern no challenge Watcher.”
His Strong Master gave him a nod. “We elves have a similar tradition. But it’s performed after a baby has been born, and it’s to bless them. Anyway, have you two thought of names or…?”
Gern shook his head, no. “Kobold no give name till first month.”
“Why is that– Oh…”
Silence fell between the two of them as Niri continued her calling. She was no longer humming, instead she was starting to sing. There were no intelligible words, but it was taking on a melodic rhythm.
Gern closed his eyes. Niri good singer, he thought, letting his head sway softly to her voice. Without realizing it, he began to hum along–
The sound of more eggs cracking rang out.
A soft whisper pierced his mind with its melodic tone. They are blessed, you are blessed.
He smiled as he imagined the future…
It was late. He was cold and exhausted. Wary, only the sight of his little hovel carried him forward.
Snow crunched under foot as he used the last of his strength and made it to the door. Throwing it open, he froze.
Niri was tucking three little kobolds into bed. She looked up and gave him an affectionate smile…
The scene awoke something deep inside him. Gern felt a sense of calm, peace, and…completeness. He never wanted to give it up, he would never give it up.
I die for them…
The first egg shattered.
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Lorem left late into the night, his heart heavy with emotions. Seeing Niri and Gern become proud parents made him wonder about his and Noria’s future.
Will we become a family too? Would I be a good father? What about Zira’s warning? With the dragons, would it even be wise?
He didn’t know, but he knew he wanted to try.
“Is that wrong?” he asked himself, coming to a stop.
No, no it’s not.
He nodded at the answer and continued back to the manor…