The crickets were chirping, singing their midnight melody as the residents of Warmhearth began closing up shop and settling for the night. Dragons and elves alike doing their nightly routines after another peaceful day.

Warmhearth was made up of eleven factions, based on their terrain, element, and skills. First were the Flame smiths. Blacksmiths by trade who lived off of the tools created with dragon fire, creating things from shovels to pickaxes for other factions to use. In the Aqua netters faction, fishing and sailing were most important, living closer to the sea than most. The Sky dweller faction created various methods of travel, from hot air balloons to gliders for elves, and ships, making it possible to trade with foreign lands. The Nature raisers faction lived in the swamp and forest, in charge of growing exotic plants used in medicine and growing tasty jungle fruits. The Volectric Mechanists created useful machines, and discovered how to create and harness electricity for the other factions. The Magic crafters create magical enchanted items, and discover new ways to harness the elements of the world. The Dream weavers live in a strange area of the island, and discovered the power to protect the dreams of the dragons and elves in Warmhearth. Working closely with the Dream weavers, the Night stalkers use their mysterious powers to destroy any vile nightmares the weavers send to them. The Jewel Breakers guard the magic jewel veins, which provides the gemstones they use for currency, mining them when it's time. However at the center of the land, lies the Artison folk. The elves and dragons of this faction not only farm and herd sheep, but artists such as painters, sculptures, carvers, and even bakers live there. It's the very heart and soul of their culture, and the most important to them.

Tonight in the Artison faction, a dragon named Ignitus searched his house for someone, he was tired, but never too tired to play hide and seek. "Flame.... It's getting late," said Ignitus as he looked under the sofa and in cabinets, "come out, come out wherever you are..."

His son was a young master of the game, mostly because his small size gave him a serious advantage when it came to hiding, though Ignitus was getting better and better at finding him. The dragon was down on his claws slowly and playfully prowling as he searched for his son. However, he was urged to look up as a small giggle was heard over his head, and the red dragon looked up to see a little elf, only four years old, giggling about his new hiding spot. The little boy was high up on top of a shelf as he looked down at Ignitus with firey eyes. "Flame! How in Warmhearth did you get up there!?" The little elf only giggled as Ignitus carefully brought him down and gave flame a dragon back ride towards his bedroom. Little Flame was practically a newborn when Ignitus found him, but as he grew, he became very adventurous, and Ignitus could only be thankful that the other artison folk helped keep an eye on everyone's children.

Ignitus smiled down at young flame as he tucked him in for the night, but the elfling was still rather hyper, and couldn't fall asleep immediately, so Ignitus knew he'd have to tell his son a story. Luckily, the dragon had one in mind, but before he spoke, Flame climbed out of bed and walked over to a smaller bed in the corner, and carefully attempted to pick up a purple egg the size of a football. "I take it you want me to tell your little sibling a story as well?" He asked. Flame nodded in response, so Ignitus brought the egg over to Flame who carefully held it in his arms while Ignitus tucked him in again.

The egg was indeed his, meaning his new son or daughter would soon hatch from it. And the day Flame could walk, he took right too it, knowing he'd technically be the big brother. Ignitus smiled at this, if only Violet could see them now, wherever she was.

As soon as his children were nice and cozy, Ignitus sat on the side of the bed to tell his story.

"A long, LONG time ago, dragons were constantly traveling. At the time, we were creatures living by following food and constantly being on the move. Though one day.... We came across a strange new land, with creatures made of metal. At first, we were afraid of each other, however we soon warmed up to a mutual alliance. It was the robots who taught us the ways of metal working and machinery, and when we traveled once more, we took the knowledge with us. Soon, we had found more civilizations, and gained other skills and knowledge from them.

From the orcs, we learned the ways of medicine. The Eagles taught us the ways of transport. From the Gillmen, we learned how to fish. From the gremlins, the ways of crafting. And from the trolls, we learned how to mine.

However it was from the elves that we gained the most valuable knowledge. How to farm. Once we learned how to farm, we no longer had to stay on the move. Instead of chasing food, we could raise and grow it. We also learned many different arts in multiple forms. From this, a unity was formed, and the dragons joined with the elves to create a new kingdom.

Warmhearth."

The dragon had finished his tale, and soon noticed is son now fast asleep, the egg nestled nice and cozy next to him. "Goodnight kids..." He said with a smile, before heading off to his own room for the night.

However, he was awaked at midnight when he heard Flame walk into the room and say something. "Daddy..." He said, "Daddy..." "What is it Flame?" He asked groggily, though he shot right up as Flame carried the egg in his arms.

The egg was shaking, and with a loud crack noise, a tiny purple clawed paw broke it's way through the shell.