A New Nest
The new nest.
“Alduin.”
“Krr?”
“I thought the house was already plenty big enough, you know?”
Alduin started to nod as if he understood, but froze the instant he realized the tip of his horn was about to brush the branch beside the cabin.
A few leaves trembled against the white horn before drifting down.
I looked at the branch that had somehow survived, then at Alduin, then back at the branch.
“Good. Nice job stopping in time.”
“Krr.”
His golden eyes lit up immediately.
The habit of brightening the moment he was praised hadn’t changed at all. The problem was that those eyes were now far larger than my entire face.
His body had already grown bigger than the cabin.
One foreleg nearly covered the entire clearing where the firewood pile used to be. His long tail curled deep into the forest, and the wings folded against his back spread over everything like a black canopy.
Fwoooosh.
Alduin exhaled upward exactly the way I had taught him.
The hot breath rose into the sky, flipping the high leaves and startling half-asleep birds into flight.
The shirt hanging on the laundry line flapped wildly but stayed put.
I nodded, satisfied that the shirt had survived.
“Your breathing’s gotten pretty good.”
“Krr.”
“Remember when you used to choke on your own breath?”
Alduin blinked innocently, pretending he hadn’t heard.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t play dumb.”
“Krr?”
“So you’ve even learned that now.”
He tried to tilt his head.
I immediately held up a finger.
“Horn.”
He froze.
The tip of the white horn stopped just short of the branch again.
The branch survived this time too.
“Well done.”
His eyes sparkled once more.
At that moment a low rumble began to rise from his throat, making the cabin windows tremble.
Grrrrr.
“Volume,” I said.
He cut the sound off instantly.
Grr.
“More.”
R.
“Perfect.”
I was impressed.
Breathing upward, gently wagging his tail, controlling his rumble, checking where his horns might hit—everything I had taught him.
But the cabin was simply too small to handle such a good boy.
“Why did you get even bigger?”
Alduin looked down at me with wounded eyes.
His expression clearly said he had no idea.
I scanned the clearing in front of the cabin.
The spot where he had curled up and slept through the night was obvious. The grass was flattened, the dirt bore the clear outline of his massive body, and his tail had left shallow trenches behind.
Even so, the cabin was still standing.
The firewood pile had only partially collapsed, the laundry line hadn’t snapped, and both walls and roof remained in place.
I could tell exactly how careful he had been all night.
He must have folded himself up as tightly as possible so his larger body wouldn’t touch the house.
Tail tucked toward the forest, wings curled tight, breath aimed at the sky.
Just picturing it made me smile, but at the same time my heart grew heavy.
“This house is finished.”
“Krr?”
“I’m not saying it’s your fault.”
His golden eyes wavered.
I waved my hands quickly.
“Don’t look so down.”
“Krrrr…”
“The house is just too small.”
I pointed at the cabin.
“Small.”
Then I pointed at him.
“You are big.”
Alduin looked down at his own body, then very carefully lowered his neck and folded his wings even tighter.
His face said he genuinely believed he could become smaller if he tried hard enough.
I was momentarily speechless.
“No matter how much you fold, big is still big.”
“Krr……”
“It’s not a bad thing.”
I walked over and placed my hand on the bridge of his nose.
If he hadn’t lowered his head first, I never would have reached it.
A single scale was wider than my palm, and beneath it I could feel the slow, powerful rhythm of his enormous breathing.
“Let’s move.”
His golden eyes blinked.
“Move house.”
I pointed at the cabin, made a walking motion with two fingers, then pointed beyond the forest.
“We’re going somewhere else.”
Alduin looked at the cabin, at my hand, then beyond the forest.
Finally he looked back at me.
There was clear anxiety in his gaze.
He seemed more worried about me disappearing than about changing locations.
Even though his body had grown so large, part of his heart was apparently still stuck in that hole in the forest.
The very first day, when he had been tangled in vines and struggling all alone.
“Together.”
His eyes stopped moving.
“You and me.”
I pointed at myself.
Then at him.
Then beyond the forest again.
“Together.”
The anxiety slowly faded from his eyes.
A small sound rose from his throat.
“Krr.”
Only then did I remove my hand.
Moving house wasn’t as simple as the words suggested.
Even taking a single puppy somewhere required effort. Now I had to relocate with a dragon bigger than the house itself.
And if we were discovered, it would be over.
Soldiers, mages, hunters, and greedy nobles would come swarming for their own reasons.
I still wanted to live quietly.
The kingdom’s civil war, noble politics, the protagonist Lord Eyaje, the continental war—none of it was my business.
The only thing that had changed was the standard for what counted as a suitable house.
Now I needed a place that wouldn’t collapse even if a dragon breathed on it.
“Wait here.”
“Krrrr?”
“I’ll bring the map.”
His eyes grew anxious again.
“You’re not allowed inside the house.”
I spoke firmly.
“If you come in, the house will collapse.”
Alduin immediately pulled his head back.
He took one step away from the cabin.
Thud.
The ground rumbled faintly, and the pots hanging inside rattled.
“Slowly.”
He moved the next step with far more care.
Thud.
Just a little.
“Good.”
His eyes brightened.
I opened the door and stepped inside.
The interior was dark.
Alduin’s shadow covered half the window.
I used to think the house was dark because of the forest shade. Now it had become a house darkened by a dragon’s shadow.
My life was evolving in a very strange direction.
I went to the study.
When I opened the box beneath the bookshelf, the map tied with a leather cord appeared.
Eyaje Kingdom.
Israt Principality.
Norvant Wilderness.
Garnia Mountains.
The story of the fallen royal heir Lord Eyaje, who ends the kingdom’s civil war, survives the continental war, and eventually wears the emperor’s crown.
The name Lakia did not appear anywhere in that story.
There was no mention of a silver-haired, red-eyed woman living in a forest cabin.
So I had decided to live quietly.
Away from the protagonist, away from the royal palace, away from the battlefields.
It had been a perfectly reasonable plan.
Until I picked up a dragon the size of my palm.
I spread the map across the desk.
First I marked our current location.
Grey Scale Canyon.
At first, Grey Scale Canyon had seemed like a decent choice.
It was wide, had water, and no people.
Back when Alduin was only the size of a house, it had been a fairly realistic option.
But after seeing him this morning, I changed my mind.
Even the canyon might not last long.
What looked spacious today could feel cramped in a few days.
There was no telling how far his growth would continue.
So the standard had to be much larger.
Not a place we could live in now, but a place that could endure even if he grew far bigger.
A place where wagging his tail wouldn’t destroy the house or trees.
A place where spreading his wings wouldn’t cause the surroundings to collapse.
A place where accidentally using his breath wouldn’t burn down an entire forest.
A place where people did not come.
A place where people could not come even if they wanted to.
I moved my finger to the upper part of the map.
Beyond the kingdom’s border.
The northeastern mountain range.
The cartographer seemed to have given up on drawing precise lines; the mountain ridges overlapped in rough layers.
In the center was one mountain drawn noticeably larger than the rest.
While the others were marked with a few small triangles, this mountain alone had its own name on the map.
The Cradle of the World.
My finger stopped.
“The Cradle of the World.”
Below the name were tiny letters.
Continent’s highest peak.
No recorded summit ascents.
In ancient mythology, the mountain where the world was born.
I stared at those words for a long time.
Even in The Biography of Lord Eyaje, the Cradle of the World was only mentioned in passing.
There had been a description of the protagonist Lord Eyaje seeing it from afar during his northern expedition.
A white giant holding up the sky.
A mountain of snow and wind beyond human reach.
No one has ever reached the summit.
There is no path across the mountain.
Mages called the winds around it mad gales, and hunters refused to approach even the foothills.
When I first read it, I had simply taken it as background setting.
A place the protagonist would never go.
A name decorating the edge of the map, far removed from the story of war and the throne.
That place had now become my candidate for a new home.
“I must be crazy.”
I muttered to myself.
“But it does look perfect.”
Saying it out loud only made it sound more absurd.
The continent’s highest peak.
A summit no one had ever climbed.
A place wrapped in the myth that the world itself was born there.
And I was seriously considering it as a house.
Yet when I looked at the conditions, it was the most suitable.
No people.
No roads.
No records of anyone reaching the top.
Far away, high up, and vast.
Even if Alduin spread his wings, the chances of being seen were low.
Practicing his breath would probably be safer among snow and rock than in a forest.
Rivers began in the mountains, so there would be water.
There would be beasts in the foothills.
If Alduin kept growing, a mountain close to the sky might be better than any forest or canyon.
I pressed the mountain’s name with my fingertip.
The Cradle of the World.
The mother of dragons choosing the Cradle of the World as the place to live with her first child.
It sounded like a bad pun.
Yet somehow it felt strangely fitting.
“Living up to the name, huh.”
A low cry came from outside.
“Krr?”
“Just talking to myself.”
I left the map unfolded and carried it outside.
Alduin was lying obediently a short distance from the cabin.
While I was inside he hadn’t pressed his eye to the window or stuck his nose against the door.
Only the scale that looked like an ear had been turned toward me.
The moment I appeared, his golden eyes brightened.
“Found it.”
“Krr?”
“A candidate.”
I spread the map on a wide rock in the clearing.
When Alduin lowered his head to look, a huge shadow fell across it.
“Shadow.”
He tilted his head slightly to the side.
Sunlight touched the map again.
“Good.”
I first pointed at the cabin’s location.
“Here.”
His eyes followed my fingertip.
Next I pointed at the enormous mountain in the middle of the northeastern range.
“Here.”
His pupils moved.
“The Cradle of the World.”
“Krr?”
“New house candidate.”
Alduin stared intently at the mountain symbol on the map.
I couldn’t tell how much of my words he understood, but he was clearly concentrating.
I slowly traced the area around the mountain with my finger.
“Very tall mountain.”
He looked at the mountain.
“They say people can’t climb it.”
I made a walking motion with two fingers, then pretended to collapse midway.
His eyes narrowed.
“No people.”
That got a clear reaction.
He blinked once and looked back at the mountain symbol.
“Wide.”
I spread both arms wide.
“High.”
I pointed at the sky.
“Far.”
I traced a long distance across the map with my finger.
“It might be okay even if you get even bigger.”
Alduin looked down at his own body.
Then he looked at the mountain again.
His eyes had changed.
Curiosity and anticipation were mixed together.
It might have been close to instinct.
Alduin was a winged creature.
He had never truly flown before.
Even so, he couldn’t possibly lack the desire for the sky and high places.
The area around the cabin had always been too narrow.
If he spread his wings, trees would break.
The laundry line would snap.
The roof would be in danger.
I continued.
“Later.”
Every time I said that, disappointment flickered across his face.
The Cradle of the World.
A mountain no one had ever climbed.
A place people could not reach.
But perhaps a place a dragon could reach.
I looked at Alduin’s wings.
Even folded, the huge black membranes covered his entire back.
Beneath the wing bones were solid muscles.
They had once hung limp like wet cloth.
Now a single spread would plunge the cabin and clearing into shadow.
“We’ll have to fly there.”
The ear-like scales on his head immediately perked up.
The reaction was far too fast.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“You understood that, didn’t you.”
“Krr?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
Alduin only blinked.
But the very tip of his tail twitched.
Thump.
I pressed the map down and folded my arms.
Walking would be too problematic.
The distance from the cabin to the Cradle of the World was enormous.
We would have to cross forests, rivers, and mountain ranges.
To avoid villages and roads we would have to take a massive detour.
Alduin’s footprints would be impossible to hide.
Trees would snap, ground would be crushed, and claw marks would remain on rocks.
Even moving at night would leave traces.
A carriage was out of the question.
Any horse that saw Alduin would faint on the spot.
A boat was also impossible.
To find a ship large enough to carry him, I might have to buy an entire country first.
That left only the sky.
There are no roads in the sky.
No footprints either.
In the night sky, his black scales could blend into the darkness.
If we flew high enough, people might mistake us for a shadow passing between the clouds.
The only problem was that I would be riding him.
I looked at Alduin’s back.
The wide scales running from the back of his neck down his spine.
The space between the roots of his wings.
The sturdy scale ridges that rose like handles.
If I laid down a blanket and tied it with ropes, I thought I could sit there.
But flying through the sky in that position.
Higher than the forest.
Close to the clouds.
Toward the highest mountain in the world.
Just thinking about it made my fingertips turn cold.
Alduin noticed the change in me.
The eager look in his eyes turned to worry.
“Krr……?”
“I’m scared,” I said honestly.
“Not scared of you.”
He stayed perfectly still.
“Scared of high places.”
I pointed at the sky.
Then made a falling motion.
His pupils shrank sharply.
A low rumble began to boil up from his throat.
Grrrrrrr.
“Don’t glare at the sky like that.”
He was completely serious.
“You can’t kill the sky.”
“Krr……”
“Just don’t drop me.”
The rumble stopped at those words.
His expression changed.
He looked like he had been given a mission.
Apparently that was how he had taken it.
“I’m not saying we leave right now.”
“Krr?”
“We practice first.”
His eyes dimmed slightly.
“Of course. I’ve never ridden on your back before.”
He started to nod, then stopped.
He must have remembered to be careful of his horns.
I pointed at him with my finger.
“Well done.”
His eyes brightened again.
I folded the map.
“Let’s summarize.”
Alduin focused.
“Our destination is the Cradle of the World.”
I pointed at the mountain name on the map again.
His eyes sparkled.
“The reason is that this place is too small.”
I pointed at the cabin.
“And because you are too big.”
I pointed at him.
“And because that place is high, far away, and has no people… it should be fine.”
I pointed at the sky and then at the mountain on the map in turn.
Alduin followed my finger with his eyes.
“The method is flying.”
I spread my hands and mimed flapping wings.
His eyes shone brightest at that.
“Wait here.”
“Krr.”
“I’ll bring a blanket and some rope.”
This time Alduin didn’t look anxious.
Whether because he finally had something to do or because he had a clear destination called the Cradle of the World, he waited obediently.
I took the thickest blanket from the storage shed.
I also grabbed leather straps and thick rope.
I tucked a dagger into my belt.
We weren’t starting the move yet.
But I still needed to prepare to ride on his back.
When I came back outside, Alduin’s eyes immediately locked onto the blanket and rope in my hands.
“Lie down.”
“Krr.”
He lowered his body.
Even so, the ground shook.
Thud.
“Slowly.”
He lowered his belly even more carefully toward the ground.
He folded his forelegs, lowered his neck, and pulled his wings close to his body.
Now the height was low enough that I could climb onto his back.
Of course, by my standards it was still high.
I climbed onto the wide stone at the edge of the clearing.
That stone had originally been my chopping block for firewood.
Now it had become a stepping stool to mount a dragon.
“Don’t move.”
“Krr.”
Alduin even held his breath.
I stretched my foot from the stone onto his scales.
They were hot and hard.
The gaps between them formed natural steps.
I grabbed the large scale behind his neck with one hand and slowly pulled myself up.
“…It’s high.”
His ear-like scales twitched slightly.
“It’s fine. I’m just saying it’s high.”
I spread the blanket in the wide space between his wing roots.
Heat rose from the scales beneath the blanket.
I secured it with leather straps and rope.
One loop around the raised scale behind his neck.
Another around the sturdy protrusion near the wing roots.
When I pulled both sides tight, it was surprisingly stable.
Alduin stayed perfectly still the whole time.
The sensation of me walking on his back must have tickled, because his scales twitched now and then.
Still, he endured it.
“Ticklish?”
“Krr……”
“Hold it in.”
Alduin closed his eyes.
I sat down on the blanket.
Warmth rose beneath my backside.
The large scale in front made a perfect handhold.
The only problem was the height.
Even with Alduin lying down, I was higher than the cabin door.
I tried not to look down.
I had already seen it.
The clearing looked small.
The door I passed through every day, the water barrel, the firewood pile—all of it entered my vision at once.
I gripped the front scale tighter.
Alduin reacted immediately.
“Krr……?”
“I’m fine.”
My voice came out a little stiff.
“I’m not dead yet.”
Alduin’s whole body tensed ever so slightly.
I quickly corrected myself.
“Just kidding.”
“Krr.”
“I’ll have to be careful with jokes too.”
I took a slow breath.
The Cradle of the World.
A summit no one had ever reached.
If I was going there, I couldn’t freeze up at this height.
I gripped the scale with both hands and lowered my body.
“Alduin.”
“Krr?”
“Stand up very slowly.”
He started to move at once.
I added quickly.
“Extremely slowly.”
The movement stopped.
Then it began again, much more gently.
Power flowed into his forelegs.
His shoulders rose gradually.
His entire back lifted little by little.
My body rose with it.
The view rose.
The cabin roof sank below me.
The lower branches of the forest slid aside.
I clenched my teeth and held the scale tightly.
“Slowly.”
Alduin slowed down even more in time with my voice.
His enormous body finally stood completely upright.
Wind brushed my face.
My silver hair scattered behind me.
It was high.
The ground was far away.
The cabin looked tiny.
The world I had walked through every day looked completely different from up here.
I held my breath for a moment, then let it out slowly.
“Hoo… Okay.”
Alduin didn’t move at all.
He was even holding his breath so I wouldn’t shake.
A dragon bigger than the house had frozen every movement in his body for the sake of one small person sitting on his back.
I gradually loosened my white-knuckled grip.
“Well done.”
The moment the words left my mouth, a very small rumble rose from beneath his neck.
Grrrrr…
A sound of joy he was trying to hold back.
I looked toward the northern sky.
Beyond the forest.
Beyond the mountain range.
Somewhere above the clouds.
The Cradle of the World.
They said no one had ever reached its summit.
But of course no one had ever ridden a dragon there either.
“No records” didn’t mean “impossible.”
I was Lakia, someone who had never existed in this world before.
Beneath me was a dragon who had never appeared in the original story.
So there was nothing strange about walking a path that didn’t exist in the original work.
“Alduin.”
“Krr?”
“Let’s go move house.”
His whole body trembled ever so slightly.
It was a vibration of barely contained joy.
I spoke immediately.
“Gently.”
The vibration lessened.
R.
“Yes. Just like that.”
I gripped the scale in front of me again.
I was still scared.
Just thinking about flying through the sky made my fingertips cold.
But it no longer seemed impossible.
Tie down the luggage, choose the night, avoid the roads.
That was how we would reach the Cradle of the World.
Together with a child who had grown bigger than the house.
To the highest place in the world.
“Don’t suddenly fly high.”
“Krr.”
“You must not drop me.”
“Krr.”
“Breathe downward.”
“Krrrr.”
“No sneezing.”
Alduin was silent for a moment.
“Kerrr……”
“Do your best.”
I took a deep breath.
“All right.”
I gripped the front scale tightly.
“Slowly.”
Alduin’s wings moved.
The folded black membranes spread out to both sides.
Fwoooosh!
The entire clearing fell into shadow.
Wind rose.
The laundry line shook and leaves flipped over.
I lowered my body and held the scale tight.
Alduin moved his wings slowly.
Thud.
The wind pressed against the ground.
Dust spread low.
Second wingbeat.
My body grew lighter.
I felt my stomach drop.
Third wingbeat.
Alduin’s enormous body lifted off the ground.
I swallowed my scream and clung to the scale.
The clearing fell away beneath my feet.
The firewood pile grew smaller.
The water barrel became a dot.
The cabin shrank until it looked like a toy.
The forest spread out below us.
Wind slapped my face.
My silver hair whipped behind me.
It was terrifying.
Yet my heart was pounding.
“Alduin!”
“Krr!”
“Not too high!”
He immediately reduced the power of his wingbeats.
Instead of climbing higher, we glided smoothly at a low altitude above the forest.
I kept my death grip on the scale and looked down.
The cabin was growing distant behind us.
The house where I had first opened my eyes.
The house where I had been alone.
The house where I had fed Alduin his first meal.
The house where I had first realized I was no longer alone.
That small house grew smaller and smaller between the trees.
I looked north.
At the far edge of the sky.
Where clouds and mountain ranges overlapped.
Beyond that lay the Cradle of the World.
“Good.”
My voice trembled in the wind.
“Let’s keep going like this.”
Alduin let out a low cry.
A small rumble holding back his joy.
Fwoooosh!!!
And so my first child, with me on his back, rose into the sky above the forest.