The cave, situated in the deepest part of Wellheart, rumbled open.

  The boulder sealing it was hardened with magic and so massive that even a Fifth-Forged Elder would not have been able to move it through brute force, but under the influence of the Archivists' ritual, it slid aside, allowing the waiting dragons entry.

  Some were still arriving, navigating the twisting tunnels through Wellheart, but a good two dozen had arrived in advance of the cave's opening. They didn't surge forwards when the boulder rolled aside; such behaviour would never have been acceptable in this place, and even the youngest had lived centuries and had the self-control appropriate to their age. Twitching tails and the occasional paw rubbing against the ground were the only signs of their excitement.

  The Archivists stood waiting, the papyrus that signified their Bloodline shifting about their bodies as they moved to guide the arriving dragons in. Most of the Archivists were in the Wayfinder stage - one had only reached the Immortal stage - but the Coalesced stage dragons obeyed their requests without question, padding into the cave and settling into the spaces the Archivists gave them.

  There were some four dozen Coalesced dragons assembled; almost every Fourth-Forged dragon in the Span was present, for none would willingly miss this event. Only a few whose tasks could not be interrupted, or those who were delving the Abyss, had - reluctantly - failed to appear. A couple of millennia ago, nothing would have stopped every Coalesced dragon in the Span from being here; there were tales of dragons hauling themselves from the ministrations of the Healers to witness the Blessing.

  The opening of the Hall of Bloodlines had, in no small part, been done to prevent such situations from occurring in future.

  Four of the Span's six Fifth-Forged Elders had arrived as well. Even the smallest towered over the dragons of lower stages, more than twice their size, and the largest, Elder Akarial-Eshouj, was so massive that even the largest of the Coalesced dragons was barely the size of his paw.

  And the cave dwarfed even him, for it had been made before the Shattering, before the Well became the only thing allowing draconic society to continue for as long as it had, when Sixth-Forged dragons were as common as Fourth-Forged and the Eternals had walked the Span, guarding it from the monsters that would harm it.

  There was one outlier amongst the dragons entering the cave - a lone Immortal stage female, with white-gold scales. There were some quizzical looks sent her way by the other dragons, but the Archivists had allowed her entry. The few that understood what gave her the right to be here gave her approving nods, and those that were close enough little nudges with their snouts as she settled down into the space given to her by the Archivists, clearly feeling out of place.

  Once all the assembled dragons had taken their spaces in the cave, ringed in a loose semicircle, one of the Archivists stepped into the centre. What few murmured conversations there had been fell silent.

  "Let this, the nineteenth Blessing of the Hatch, of the fifth millennium of the Third Radiance, begin," he proclaimed.

  Led by another Archivist, four Hatch-Tenders approached from a tunnel even deeper within the Wellheart, carefully bearing between them an object shrouded by the Archivists' papyrus wrappings. They could have lifted it with their Will, of course, but that would have polluted the mana of the hatchling within the egg, potentially crippling its connection to any Bloodlines. Thus, it was brought out on a cushion with a strap at each corner carefully carried in the mouths of the Tenders, and placed upon an intricate runic circle that shimmered before casting a pulse of mystical energy through the cave.

  The assembled dragons studied the egg for a few moments as the pulse faded, while the Archivist leading the ceremony placed a small chest upon the cushion in front of it.

  "I offer the Unfolding Bloom Bloodline," one of them said, after a few moments. A small emerald orb sparkled from their Will and floated down to the small chest the Archivist had set down in front of the egg. "I sense a strong connection to Nature mana from him. He can likely reach the Coalesced stage with it."

  "He bears a connection to Light as well," one of the other dragons said, conjuring a Bloodline Orb of her own and sending it soaring down to the chest. "I offer the Radiant Leaf Bloodline. I, too, believe he can reach the Coalesced stage. Let him bear the name Mil, meaning 'garden of a thousand colours.'"

  The first dragon to speak did not contest the name, and with a flash of the Archivist's Will, the Hatch Name of the egg was inscribed upon the chest as it swung closed, before the Tenders lifted the cushion and took the egg back into the depths of the Wellheart.

  Thus the ceremony continued. More eggs were brought forth and bestowed with compatible Bloodlines, and their Hatch Names, by the Coalesced dragons.

  The seventh egg to be brought forth, though, was different. It was not masked in papyrus, its brilliant red lustre reflecting around the cave.

  "A Bloodborn," one of the dragons whispered, echoingly loud in the silence of the cave.

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  "I am honoured to report," the leader Archivist proclaimed, "that we are blessed with a Bloodborn egg in this hatching." He flicked his tail towards the young Immortal stage female. "To be able to conceive a hatchling naturally is a rare fortune, Bayjtikes. The Eternals bless you."

  "Th-thank you," she stammered.

  "May I ask where your mate is?" the Archivist asked, gently.

  She ducked her head, embarrassed. "The manabond taxes him severely, Senior. He was not confident he could fly the Currents to reach the Wellheart."

  "He could have asked for aid," one of the other dragons commented, with a hint of reproach. "He deserves plaudits just as surely as you do. No Wayfinder would have balked at bringing him here for this moment."

  "In any case," the Archivist continued, as Bayjtikes shifted awkwardly, "as she is your daughter by blood, you have the right of first refusal to give her your Bloodline to inherit - though you can no more force her to take it when she comes of age than any other here can force the dragons they have given their Bloodline inheritances to," he added.

  "My Bloodline is only known to extend to the Wayfinder stage, Senior," the white dragon said. "I would be honoured if the Seniors here would grant her a stronger bloodline."

  "Then I shall do so."

  The voice came from the back of the group, and the dragons craned their necks around as one to see who had spoken. None of the Elders had offered up their Bloodlines - not just in this Blessing, but for many Blessings before. Half the dragons in the cave had never once seen an Elder pass on their inheritance.

  "I sense a great affinity for Fire in this little one," Elder Beolkyax-Tahi pronounced, "and her strength as a Bloodborn only heightens that potential further." A flash of fire brought forth a Bloodline Orb from his Will, and he cast it down to the cushion where the egg lay. "I offer the Flame Calamity Bloodline. Though I myself have not yet reached its peak, it carries with it the instructions to reach the Sixth Forging - and I believe she can reach it, should she possess the drive to do so." A few gasps rang around the cave. Nobody had reached the Sixth Forging for millennia. "I name her Kese," the Elder continued, "for a flame so hot that lava itself will burn away, and should she accept the Bloodline, I shall not take a step towards the Sixth Forging until she has reached the Fifth Forging."

  Though a dragon with such a strong Bloodline - and a Bloodborn at that - could likely reach the Fourth Forging in just two or three centuries, no dragon had ever reached the Fifth Forging before their first millennium, and it would be more likely to take her three or four millennia. Even for a Fifth-Forged Elder, that was no small amount of time to wait.

  And Bayjtikes knew it. "You honour my daughter greatly, Elder," she said, almost pressing her muzzle into the dirt as she bowed.

  "Nonsense," Beolkyax replied. "Each Bloodborn hatchling, conceived without the Well of Our Futures, is one more Mote of Future that can become a hatchling in time. I will not allow her to be slothful, but she deserves everything she will receive."

  The Archivist's mana flared, and papyrus flashed out to wrap around the ruby egg until it looked no different from all the other eggs that had been brought out for the Blessing. The young Kese would learn of her nature as a Bloodborn once she reached her first decade, but until that day, she would be no different to all the other hatchlings that had been created by the Well, their only connection to their 'parents' the mana poured into the Motes of Future to aid in their creation.

  The dragons settled down, once more opening their senses to the divination ritual, probing the next egg to be brought out for the potential to inherit their bloodline.

  Thus, another dozen eggs came and went, until another egg, visually no different to any other, was brought into the cave.

  Silence rang forth as the dragons waited for one amongst them to offer up a bloodline.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  Some of the dragons began to shift uncomfortably.

  "Emoukargaif, what of your Bloodline?" one of them asked her neighbour. "You often note how versatile it is."

  "The Ocean of Many Shores Bloodline is versatile, yes," the targeted dragon retorted, "but it requires some affinity for Water, or a higher-tier conjunction. I sense nothing from this egg. If he were to cultivate it, I doubt he could even reach the Immortal stage. Perhaps not even the Willworker stage."

  "I sense no Fire in him," another dragon said.

  "Nor I Earth."

  "Nor I Air."

  "I sense neither Dark nor Light."

  "Archivist, forgive the presumptuousness," one of the dragons said, cutting off the string of announcements of what conjunctions the egg lacked affinity for, "but what of the Bloodline of the Archives? Dragons of all affinities have been able to cultivate it in the past."

  "The Akashic Records Bloodline is broad in scope," the Archivist said, "but - similar to Emoukargaif's - it requires an affinity for one of a number of conjunctions. This little one lacks any of them."

  More than a few dragons were looking back at the Elders. Akarial-Eshouj let out a huffing rumble and addressed the cave. "I have attended these ceremonies since before the Third Radiance. I have never seen a dragon with no affinities for any conjunction."

  "Then...if he cannot inherit a Bloodline, what do we do?"

  "If he cannot reach the Immortal stage, old age will take him."

  "When he comes of age, he will have access to the Hall of Bloodlines, just as any other dragon would," the Archivist said. "With the Eternals' fortune, he will find a Bloodline he has the potential for."

  "But who will name him?"

  "Anyone here," the Archivist replied, with a nod to the assembled dragons.

  "Oexo," one of the dragons suggested - before being silenced by an angry hiss from his neighbour.

  "We are not giving a hatchling a name of 'emptiness leading to misery'!"

  "It is a name given to us by the Well like any other," the dragon retorted. "It would not have done so if there would not one day be a dragon who suited it."

  "As a Curse Name, or even an Immortal Name by someone who wishes the reminder! But this little one is burdened enough without the ill fate of an inauspicious name."

  "Raan." Akarial-Eshouj's voice silenced the crowd. "'Nothing, with the potential to become anything.' That shall be his name."

  "Then it is done," the Archivist nodded, etching the rune into the - empty - chest that lay on the cushion with Raan's egg.

  The Blessing resumed - falteringly at first, but swiftly it returned to the normal atmosphere. The last few eggs were named and given their potential Bloodlines.

  But few of the dragons there that day would forget the time that not one of them could provide a Bloodline to inherit for one of the dragons who would one day succeed them.