Dormfire Secrets
The warmth of the dorm was deceptive.
Soft morning light filtered through the frost-glazed windows, casting long, sluggish beams across the wooden floor. The gentle crackle of the wall-embedded hearth was the only sound, accompanied occasionally by the quiet snore of someone too exhausted to wake properly.
Ethan was the first to stir.
His breath fogged lightly as he sat up on his cot. Muscles ached. His shoulder burned with a dull stiffness from the final clash against the Goblin Shaman, and his fingers twitched slightly from the aftershock of mana overuse.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat there for a moment, elbows on knees, eyes fixed on the eggs still sitting in the center of the dorm's table.
Unmoved. Untouched. Quiet.
The ember one sat closest to Asher's empty couch, the water-veined one closest to Nick's unmade bedroll, and the darkest of the three—his—rested right in the center.
Ethan stood slowly. No words, no movements wasted. His footsteps were soft over the planks as he walked toward the table.
They hadn't agreed to move them. That was unspoken.
They hadn't agreed not to, either.
He crouched beside his egg. Just to look.
The surface was smooth. No cracks. No pulse.
But there was something…
He leaned in, just a bit.
And then he saw it.
A hairline groove.
Thin. Faint. Not quite a crack—but more like a sealed line running vertically down the shell, subtle enough that it hadn't been there before. Or maybe it had, and he just hadn't noticed.
He reached out, hesitated—and then touched it.
Still cool to the touch. Still humming faintly.
Behind him, the door to the bathroom creaked open.
Asher stepped out, shirtless, a towel flung over his shoulder and his usual mop of blue hair dripping wet. "You look like you're staring into a curse," he mumbled, rubbing his face.
Ethan stood. "Maybe I am."
Asher raised a brow and walked over, wiping his face with the towel. "They move?"
"No," Ethan said. "But mine's different. There's a seam now."
That made Asher pause.
He dropped the towel onto the back of the couch and peered over Ethan's shoulder. Then he leaned in and blinked. "Huh. That wasn't there yesterday, right?"
"No."
Before they could say more, Nick's door creaked open and he stumbled out, yawning. "You guys always wake up talking about something suspicious?"
Ethan didn't answer. He just pointed.
Nick walked over, eyeing the egg before looking back at his own.
And froze.
His egg had changed, too.
There was now a pattern along the base—barely visible unless you looked closely. Thin, branching lines like veins, but arranged too symmetrically to be natural.
"…Okay," Nick said, all sleep gone from his tone. "That's new."
Asher frowned and quickly circled to check his. "Mine looks the same, I think. Maybe? Wait—no. Hold on."
He turned it slightly with both hands, and there it was: a faint ring now visible around the base, like a scorched groove that hadn't been there before.
All three of them had changed.
None of them had done anything since last night.
Ethan stood back. "We fed them one drop. That was it."
"They're not cracking," Nick said. "They're… developing."
Asher raised both hands. "Okay, am I the only one here wondering if we're going to wake up one morning with three tiny, murderous monsters chewing on our spleens?"
Ethan said nothing.
Because he was thinking the same thing.
"Maybe we take them to someone," Nick said. "Kael? Or the headmaster?"
"No," Ethan said sharply. "Not yet."
Nick frowned. "Why not?"
Ethan looked at the eggs. "Because we don't know what they are. And if they're rare, or dangerous, or wanted, we'll lose them before we understand anything."
"And if they're illegal?"
"Then we'll deal with it after we know what we're dealing with."
Nick didn't look convinced. But he didn't argue either.
The silence stretched. The eggs sat unmoving.
Then Asher, voice quieter than usual, said, "They don't feel evil."
Ethan turned to him.
Asher wasn't joking. He looked serious—genuinely thoughtful.
"I mean," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "back in the cave, when that Shaman thing was alive, it had this… weight. Like all the shadows wanted to crawl down your throat."
He gestured toward the eggs.
"These? They don't feel like that. They feel… I dunno. Just there. Warm. A little freaky, but not wrong."
Nick slowly nodded. "I felt it too. When mine pulled the blood in, there was wind for a second. But it didn't feel corrupted. It felt… natural."
Ethan looked back at his own. "Mine pulled shadows. I didn't even try."
More silence.
Then Ethan sighed. "We hide them. Until we know more."
Nick sat down. "Where?"
There weren't many choices.
The academy had mana wards and dorm inspections—especially for Dragon-Blooded students. If the staff caught wind of strange relics being stored away, they'd be taken and investigated.
But if they kept the eggs somewhere no one would look…
Ethan's eyes shifted to the old storage trunk under Asher's bed.
Asher followed his gaze, then slowly nodded. "It's enchanted against damp and rot. Used to store old scrolls."
"Will the mana react?" Nick asked.
"Only to flames," Asher shrugged. "We'll layer the inside with some nullstone padding, just in case."
They moved quickly after that—wrapping the eggs in cloth, placing them one by one into the trunk, spacing them apart. Asher even added one of his spare robes for insulation. When they were done, Ethan added a warding rune etched on the inside of the lid—simple, just to mask magical presence.
It would hold.
For now.
When they stepped back and looked around, the room felt strangely still again.
But different.
Like something had entered their lives and quietly settled into the cracks without asking.
Ethan pulled the blanket over the trunk. "We keep them safe. We keep them secret."
Asher crossed his arms. "And if they hatch?"
"Then we deal with it."
No more words were said after that.
They dressed, gathered their satchels, and prepared for the day's academy drills. Outside, the cold air bit through the stone arches, and students were already gathering on the frost-dusted fields.
But none of the other students had three silent, warm eggs hidden beneath a dorm bed.
None of them had seen what the boys had seen. Or bled for it.
As they stepped outside, Ethan glanced back once.
Just for a second.
And beneath the blanket, unseen, the three eggs pulsed once—each a different hue.
A heartbeat.
Let me know if you want the next chapter to introduce mysterious side effects, one of the eggs hatching early, or the boys' day being interrupted by someone snooping too close to their dorm.
continued
The warmth of the dorm was deceptive.
Soft morning light filtered through the frost-glazed windows, casting long, sluggish beams across the wooden floor. The gentle crackle of the wall-embedded hearth was the only sound, accompanied occasionally by the quiet snore of someone too exhausted to wake properly.
Ethan was the first to stir.
His breath fogged lightly as he sat up on his cot. Muscles ached. His shoulder burned with a dull stiffness from the final clash against the Goblin Shaman, and his fingers twitched slightly from the aftershock of mana overuse.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat there for a moment, elbows on knees, eyes fixed on the eggs still sitting in the center of the dorm's table.
Unmoved. Untouched. Quiet.
The ember one sat closest to Asher's empty couch, the water-veined one closest to Nick's unmade bedroll, and the darkest of the three—his—rested right in the center.
Ethan stood slowly. No words, no movements wasted. His footsteps were soft over the planks as he walked toward the table.
They hadn't agreed to move them. That was unspoken.
They hadn't agreed not to, either.
He crouched beside his egg. Just to look.
The surface was smooth. No cracks. No pulse.
But there was something…
He leaned in, just a bit.
And then he saw it.
A hairline groove.
Thin. Faint. Not quite a crack—but more like a sealed line running vertically down the shell, subtle enough that it hadn't been there before. Or maybe it had, and he just hadn't noticed.
He reached out, hesitated—and then touched it.
Still cool to the touch. Still humming faintly.
Behind him, the door to the bathroom creaked open.
Asher stepped out, shirtless, a towel flung over his shoulder and his usual mop of blue hair dripping wet. "You look like you're staring into a curse," he mumbled, rubbing his face.
Ethan stood. "Maybe I am."
Asher raised a brow and walked over, wiping his face with the towel. "They move?"
"No," Ethan said. "But mine's different. There's a seam now."
That made Asher pause.
He dropped the towel onto the back of the couch and peered over Ethan's shoulder. Then he leaned in and blinked. "Huh. That wasn't there yesterday, right?"
"No."
Before they could say more, Nick's door creaked open and he stumbled out, yawning. "You guys always wake up talking about something suspicious?"
Ethan didn't answer. He just pointed.
Nick walked over, eyeing the egg before looking back at his own.
And froze.
His egg had changed, too.
There was now a pattern along the base—barely visible unless you looked closely. Thin, branching lines like veins, but arranged too symmetrically to be natural.
"…Okay," Nick said, all sleep gone from his tone. "That's new."
Asher frowned and quickly circled to check his. "Mine looks the same, I think. Maybe? Wait—no. Hold on."
He turned it slightly with both hands, and there it was: a faint ring now visible around the base, like a scorched groove that hadn't been there before.
All three of them had changed.
None of them had done anything since last night.
Ethan stood back. "We fed them one drop. That was it."
"They're not cracking," Nick said. "They're… developing."
Asher raised both hands. "Okay, am I the only one here wondering if we're going to wake up one morning with three tiny, murderous monsters chewing on our spleens?"
Ethan said nothing.
Because he was thinking the same thing.
"Maybe we take them to someone," Nick said. "Kael? Or the headmaster?"
"No," Ethan said sharply. "Not yet."
Nick frowned. "Why not?"
Ethan looked at the eggs. "Because we don't know what they are. And if they're rare, or dangerous, or wanted, we'll lose them before we understand anything."
"And if they're illegal?"
"Then we'll deal with it after we know what we're dealing with."
Nick didn't look convinced. But he didn't argue either.
The silence stretched. The eggs sat unmoving.
Then Asher, voice quieter than usual, said, "They don't feel evil."
Ethan turned to him.
Asher wasn't joking. He looked serious—genuinely thoughtful.
"I mean," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "back in the cave, when that Shaman thing was alive, it had this… weight. Like all the shadows wanted to crawl down your throat."
He gestured toward the eggs.
"These? They don't feel like that. They feel… I dunno. Just there. Warm. A little freaky, but not wrong."
Nick slowly nodded. "I felt it too. When mine pulled the blood in, there was wind for a second. But it didn't feel corrupted. It felt… natural."
Ethan looked back at his own. "Mine pulled shadows. I didn't even try."
More silence.
Then Ethan sighed. "We hide them. Until we know more."
Nick sat down. "Where?"
There weren't many choices.
The academy had mana wards and dorm inspections—especially for Dragon-Blooded students. If the staff caught wind of strange relics being stored away, they'd be taken and investigated.
But if they kept the eggs somewhere no one would look…
Ethan's eyes shifted to the old storage trunk under Asher's bed.
Asher followed his gaze, then slowly nodded. "It's enchanted against damp and rot. Used to store old scrolls."
"Will the mana react?" Nick asked.
"Only to flames," Asher shrugged. "We'll layer the inside with some nullstone padding, just in case."
They moved quickly after that—wrapping the eggs in cloth, placing them one by one into the trunk, spacing them apart. Asher even added one of his spare robes for insulation. When they were done, Ethan added a warding rune etched on the inside of the lid—simple, just to mask magical presence.
It would hold.
For now.
When they stepped back and looked around, the room felt strangely still again.
But different.
Like something had entered their lives and quietly settled into the cracks without asking.
Ethan pulled the blanket over the trunk. "We keep them safe. We keep them secret."
Asher crossed his arms. "And if they hatch?"
"Then we deal with it."
No more words were said after that.
They dressed, gathered their satchels, and prepared for the day's academy drills. Outside, the cold air bit through the stone arches, and students were already gathering on the frost-dusted fields.
But none of the other students had three silent, warm eggs hidden beneath a dorm bed.
None of them had seen what the boys had seen. Or bled for it.
As they stepped outside, Ethan glanced back once.
Just for a second.
And beneath the blanket, unseen, the three eggs pulsed once—each a different hue.
A heartbeat.