The breath had caught in Athanasia's throat, sitting completely and utterly still—-as if it was planning to suffocate her with no mercy at all.

At first, the young woman was in complete and utter denial about what she saw nestled between the roots of the rock, right where the tree met the ground—met the earth.

That... That can't be, Athanasia began to think to herself, trying to rationalize what she was seeing. She rubbed her purple eyes in disbelief, hoping her eyes were just playing tricks on her and that after her hand moved off, she'd see it for what it really was—just an oddly shaped rock like most forests in the north had. Still though, despite her efforts, Athanasia's hopes were proven false. It began to sink in for her that this was actually real. She was staring straight at a real wyvern egg.

"What is it?" Aculia's voice rang out from behind her. "Is someone there? Watching us? Like some sort of sick creep?" The Scottish princess rushed and struggled—hands fumbling as she hurried to button up her tunic. "...if someone's really out there, I don't want that lunatic to see any of this." And with a face full of reddened blush—making her face hot and sting from embarrassment—she mumbled, "That's... T-That's for your eyes only. ...yours and only yours alone, I mean." Aculia swallowed, falling silent once more, trying to figure out whatever was off in the shadows—presumably lurking around, just waiting for the right moment to strike like a viper stalking its prey... Or, at least, that's how Aculia saw whatever Athanasia was fully dazed by.

Athanasia's mouth grew dry. There was no trying to rationalize this into a thought of something more sensible... Something like a hallucination cast by the shadows and low light levels. This was truly what she thought it was. Slowly, she found her fingers wrapping around the dangling amethyst wyvern pendant around her neck that she had inherited from her mother.

"Athanasia?" Aculia called out once more, her voice starting to have a hint of fear edging in it. She stood, brushing herself off and straightening her hair to look more 'presentable' should it be revealed that there was indeed another person there; though, deep down, internally, Aculia just wished that it was a squirrel so she'd be able to just go about her day... Though, if it was only something so small like that, Aculia would have to live with the knowledge that she tried to fancy her appearance up quickly for just a simple woodland creature like that. In the grand scheme of things, Aculia was fine with that idea—even if it was a tad bit peculiar to say the least; she'd much rather live with that memory over that of a random stranger walking in on something intimate she was doing with Athanasia, the heir of the Cyeollarian throne. Former heir, Aculia corrected herself mentally. Cyeollaria's gone and with what Ilrok and his forces would've done, I doubt there'd be a way for Cyeollaria and its patriarchs would be able to push for its resurgence no matter how hard they tried... At least not for the next few centuries to come.

Athanasia pinched her eyes closed and took a deep breath, mind rapidly pondering and going over every single countless thought of what this would mean for Cyeollaria if this were real. ...What it would mean for her as well.

Her grandfather, Ragnar Rikvidhsson, knew about this sort of thing—or, at least that's what the stories said. The legend went that Ragnar met a woman—an elf—who was beautiful... Beyond belief. Ragnar was half-elf himself, but seeing one who was full-blooded was something out of his wildest dreams... something so glorious that his mind could simply not comprehend this possibility even before it happened. Never did the idea once cross his mind.

She—the elf, Celaena Wynris—was earthly. She presented the wyvern amulet to Ragnar, promptly informing him that the object had been part of her family for generations. They'd used it—channeled its magic—to be one with the wyvern. It connected them in a way—made both sides, elf and wyvern, understand each other completely, all without having to even speak the same dialect.

In some tales of it even, the amulet was said to push that bond further—farther into the pure, untapped arcane. In some sessions of the stories being retold to her, Agnar, and Hrafnúlfr as young children, they said that who bore the amulet could even change shape into a great wyvern—powerful and glorious. Though, the story said that the amulet had to choose them as it did Celaena and her ancestors. Athanasia had thought that part though was nothing more than a large, steaming pile of pig shit; since she had never found anything that confirmed it in her research—-in her mind, it was nothing more than a little afternote added in to create a sparkle in young, naive child's eye. It was just something slotted in there to make a child lay awake at night and ponder: what if I'm chosen? Great and noble enough to bear the amulet? To hold it close? To speak with the great wyverns? For them to understand me? For there to be a sense of allyship and maybe even possibly that of companionship?

No surprise that Athanasia had once pondered those things as a small child—just as Agnar and her brother most likely did at some point or another.

Though Athanasia didn't believe in such things anymore—she had since grown out of the tales and matured some—it didn't stop her from holding the pendant in her hands as she approached the egg. Her thumb glided over and wormed its way down and about the intricate grooves carved into the wyvern wrapped around the stone. Here goes nothing, she thought to herself, opening her eyes once more and kneeling down in front of the egg, casting a large shadow compared to it, nearly submerging it completely—-drowning it even—-in total darkness.

Athanasia reached forward, slowly and gently, but still steadily, fingers gliding along the swirls on the egg.

"Athanasia?" Aculia called once more, this time louder, believing the other young woman to be in some sort of trance, and wanting to snap her out of it by any means necessary. "What is it? Clearly, something's got your attention... Whether it be captivating or dangerous for us both."

Athanasia's fingers continued to glide along the surface of the wyvern egg, coming in contact with a cold patch, and grimacing. It's been abandoned, she thought to herself, with a slight sadness at that revelation. And judging by the external temperature, I'd say it's been here for quite a bit... A while even. Either its mother was slain by hunters looking for a handsome reward and big game, or it was just left by its family because it didn't hatch. Athanasia pulled back her hand, eyes darting back and forth over it—taking the egg in at its entirety. Her fingers curled slightly as she got an idea. Lightly, careful not to make any major damage, she knocked on the outside of the shell.

Sure enough, there was a tiny tap within. A flick of a tail.

"It's still alive," Athanasia murmured, eyes widening with both awe and a sense of urgency.

"What is?" Aculia called back. "What's alive? What did you find?" She swallowed, fear and dread only growing in her words and shackling her down to the ground to where she didn't think that she could even move a single, small inch. "Answer me, dammit!" Aculia's panicked, anxious voice boomed from behind Athanasia.

It's cold... It has to be. It needs to be warmed up if it's to survive, Athanasia thought to herself, letting go of the pendant and letting it crash against her sternum once more. Carefully, she guided the egg up into her grasp, cradling gently, and turning around to finally face Aculia once more. She swallowed. "It's a wyvern egg."