Attior

The expectant parents huddled over their nest, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their hatchlings. Three eggs shined from their soft bed of grass before small hairline cracks began to pepper their shells. The fractures slowly snaked out, multiplying gradually as the tiny hatchlings inside worked their way out to meet the world.

Nim and Simon watched as the first of the hatchlings emerged - a spiral the color of thunderclouds, peeping her grey head out and taking her first breath of fresh air. The second egg was a fae - slower to emerge, likely as a function of her smaller size. She spread her pink wings like sails and promptly flopped onto the ground, exhausted from her ordeal.

Two eggs hatched, two healthy hatchlings. The third one, however, was different. The petite head that cracked open its eggshell was not of unblemished, smooth scale like the others. Instead, the pale blue face was marred by a swath of green, a sickly tone that continued across his whole body. Nim's eyes roved over the hatchling, settling on the olive sheen bursting forth from beneath his skin. She clapped her talons over her mouth.
"Simon-"
He was watching, just as she was, and responded in a voice of barely contained emotion.
"I see him, Nim..."
He absently brought a claw up to his own face, tracing a line along the vibrant green growths that covered his nose and right eye. A scar. A memory. A warning.
"I see him."
Nim's eyes were still fixed on the hatching, "You don't suppose it's genetic?"
Simon drew in a slow breath, but said nothing, watching the young spiral as intently as before.
"We need to get him to the doctor."
He leaned down and scooped up the child, soothing it as he moved away from the nest and towards the medic's office.
The blue Skydancer started at the couple drifting into his cave, looking up from a scroll he was engaged in reading.
"Ah - yes, hello. I assume your nest hatched...?"
His gaze settled on the scaly bundle in Simon's arms.
"...oh
"We need-" the mage began.
"I understand," the doctor interrupted, already on his way to the supply cabinets. "Sit tight for one moment - the exam table is right there."

The doctor poked and prodded the hatchling, checking his nose, his mouth, his body temperature. Nim almost protested when he took out a syringe, but he stopped her before she could speak. "It's the only way we can know, Nim. I promise to be gentle with him."

The doctor drew a blood sample from under the flexible scales of the hatchling's elbow. The baby squirmed and squawked, but settled down as soon as the offending instrument was removed from his presence. The Skydancer disappeared from the room for a time - 10 minutes, 20 minutes, a half an hour, then returned. Adjusting his goggles, he raised his eyes to the clan leaders who were anxiously awaiting his verdict.

"There's no sign of the disease - he appears to be the same as any other hatchling. Whatever that is," he gestured to the olive spotting, "it is purely benign. Hereditary, yes, but harmless."
The couple loosed a collective breath. Their son was safe. The Skydancer held up a claw, halting them in their tracks, "I would," he added, "keep an eye on him. His case is unique, and with the similarities to his father, it would not be unlikely for other...effects... to manifest themselves."
They both nodded,

"We'll keep him in the clan,"Nim agreed, "teach him. Tell him. We'll face the future - together."

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windsinger devout
his parents expected /a lot of him/