Stunt Clutch Hatching!
The eggs! All the eggs in the Stunt sands are cracking, Baeris! You should come see!
The raven-haired woman sat up from her records work, and blinked. Then she said loudly, “why didn’t you say something when they started rocking, you wherry-brained dimglow!”
You do not have to insult me, rider mine… I did not want to bother your lunch. But do you not hear Striker and the other flitters? They are happy! We have time to gather the candidates for their eggs.
“As if they don’t know already…” Baeris said, standing and hurriedly putting her work away. It would keep. And besides, there would be far more important records to keep later on today! She moved down the hall of the Healing Den, and went into the dining hall. There, she found the small number of specially picked candidates who had come to the Den. She clapped her hands for attention, and the young folk’s heads all turned away from their food or conversations, to look at the harried woman.
“The eggs, young ones! They’re going to hatch quickly!” She breathed, and they moved into action even faster than she had! Off to their temporary weyrs, where they cleaned up a little, and shook out the wrinkles from the white candidate robes which they’d all been given.
As they came back rushing a bit into the smaller of the two hatching areas, Baeris had also sent Striker along to visit their weyr companions, and soon there were a number of people eager to be an audience to this special occasion! There were several small dragons in attendance too, hovering about the edges and just outside, where the ledge was wide and covered with a fine layer of warm sand. Among them were the first of the Stunt dragons, a little rainbow of mutated shades. Everyone knew that they might be outdone this clutch! There were different eggs of sizes between a tiny green-grey one, and a very large yellow-orange one! Spotted and striped and candy-dipped, those eggs had each attracted one or another of the candidates.
One of the candidates, a young man by the name of Setia, looked a little worried. He had a watch wher back at Sapphire and hoped that she’d allowed someone to feed her – rather than taking her with him to the Healing Den. The sooner this hatching occurred, the sooner he would know how long he’d be here! Beside him, a girl named Riale whispered, “they’ll be all right. Watch-whers are resourceful.” Setia nodded, knowing that she’d also befriended one at her native East Rock Territory.
Another boy, slightly younger but slightly more muscular, stood on the other side of Setia. Rynitek by name, he fingered the white robe and rolled his eyes at the heat. “This is like being in the forge room…” He muttered, and a girl beside him groaned too.
“I can’t believe I have to wear this dratted dress!” Rivvov said, fanning it out at her neck to let the heat out. “And it’s made of wool… ugh!”
The bright-eyed and even brighter-haired Zeharin only smiled. “It looks fine on you. And it’s a robe, not a dress. And WE have to wear them,” he pointed out. “I feel so silly! It’s far hotter than laying on a summer beach back home at Vallen Cove.”
“I can’t wait to get out of this…” Rivvov muttered, and ignored the boys’ slightly leering laugh as she did so.
The petite young woman beside Zeharin on the other hand did not ignore it. Myia felt like smacking him on the back of his too-colorful head. She’d been through enough with boys and men and their mean hearts. She remained silent. Her fire lizards joined those that the other candidates had brought with them, in the craggy ceiling nooks. They sang loudly, and were joined by the sweet and eerie chorus of the mini dragons beyond the walls. In fact, the other full sized dragons of the weyrlet contributed too.
The sands then came to life, though some of the eggs had already started to shake.
The dragonet finally decided he was dry, and walked up to the line of candidates. Though they were few, he did take a while to decide. The apprentice Smithcrafter Rynitek was suitably stunned when the dragon bespoke him.
You and I will find a nice warm place and I will watch you work. I know there are many places around – nooks which the little brothers speak of. The brown tossed his wedge-head at the line of fire lizards on the wall, who chittered happily. I am Dharnath, my friend. Will you feed me now?
“Oh—of course! Dharnath!” R’tek said, unsure of how to react! Suddenly he was impressed!
While they were shown off the sands to feed the hungry if small brown, another egg spun onto its side and shattered into several large pieces. A tall sharp wing tip poked out of the space between two pieces, and almost sawed its way out of the rest of the egg! Mottled brown in color, but remarkably and noticably sharp, the dragon stepping out from the shell almost had a diamond-edge to his wings! They were the right size and shape, but each tine ended in a sharp point rather than a curved claw. Even the ridges on his back and tail seemed to be quite sharp.
Ah it is you I seek! The dragonet bespoke to Setia. I see a white creature in your mind. Are you worried about it? I may help out. But you will have to feed me first. I am Lutanth, my new rider. Lutanth.
“Salania will … really get a kick out of you, Lutanth…” S’tia said. He finally cracked a smile, and didn’t even bother to nod at the other candidates as they moved away from the sands.
A short lull in the action gave some of the harpers present time to ask Baeris a few questions. Whose eggs are they? Why keep these odd little things around? What if one of them doesn’t hatch? Do you open the eggs if they grow cold and still? All these and more the foreign Harpers kept asking, and Baeris had to carefully direct their attention to the small Stunt dragons which came from her first and most-loved clutch. Dulath the green-gold her own dragon tilted her head and chirruped like a flit.
They are curious. Always curious, Baeris. Can they not see that we love our riders as much as any other full-sized dragon?
They will always wonder at the lack of tradition… But I always wonder at traditions which don’t make sense. Ah! Look, another egg breaks!
True enough, a mottled yellow-brown egg shook with kinds of waves, rippling over the surface before it turned almost to dust. From the elongated egg, came a …
“Orange? That dragon’s orange!” Someone tactlessly yelled. Baeris put her hand onto the Harper’s shoulder and pushed him back into his seat carefully.
“It is a Brown dragon, sir, with a rust-variation. But look, it is his wings which are something to yell about.”
It was true: the creature’s wings were…
He is like Mijath! Look at his wings! Dulath bespoke, and little pale-yellow Mijath crooned her delight! Finally there was another like her!
The long-necked dragon swung his small head over the dust of his shell, and then carefully hobbled around the warm sands. Baeris made notes on her own wherhide: this dragon’s feet were webbed, and he looked quite like a sea-snake in body! His long wings were straight, but a little fanned out so that if he were in water, he’d definitely have an advantage.
The dragon moved right up to Zeharin. You are mine. I am Moeomth. I do not like this heat. I want to cool down. Water will be good. I think you like water too, don’t you?
“I do, Moeomth, I love it! You and I were meant to be together!” Z’rin cried out. The bright orange-rust colored dragonet had to be carried by his tall human bond off the sands, and his tail still dragged on the sands! His neck curled lovingly around Z’rin’s arm and neck, and everyone was certain that he’d looked right at yellow-white Mijath one more time before they exited.
The blue shook his head and tossed sand away from his feet by dancing them quickly over the shells. He skirted the other eggs left on the sands, and skidded to a halt in front of the couple candidates he wanted to examine. In fact, the headstrong blue butted Zenar over to Riale so he could compare them!
First he took a long look at Zenar, and then the sniffed him up and down. Giving a last snort, he turned to Riale and bespoke in a clear, but very soft voice.
I am Niawith. Can we go outside? I want to move! I want to run! But first I want to eat!
Laughing, Riale hugged the dragon. He was small but seemed strong and healthy already. She announced the dragon’s name to the Harpers, and they all but sprinted off the sands, leaving Zenar a bit disappointed.
Just then, a pale violet-blue egg cracked loudly. It seemed a thick egg, and the dragon within it seemed to be having quite a time getting out. But when he did, it was a wing pushing on the egg which finally did it! How strong those wings were! Baeris nudged the harper next to her and told him that the wings had been quite mutated in their egg. “Only two fingers,” she showed her fingers off, “where most have two stuck together and then two separate. But how strong they are!”
The color of the dragon within was a vibrant white-blue, with pale iceberg colored wings, rather like Riale’s blue just before him. He tipped into the sand, and rolled over, inadvertantly sticking his skin on some of the older broken shells.
“Oh, shards,” Rivvov gasped, “he’s hurt himself!” She bolted from her stand beside the other candidates, and went to brush off the shards. They’d almost pierced the blue’s skin. Rivvov looked into the red-yellow eyes of the dragon, and suddenly her heart lept.
This was no dragon from the sands here… There was something so familiar about the dragonet! He wasn’t quite like those around her… More like those at the Nest!
I am Necrods, my friend. Ah, would you keep doing that? My skin itches so, and your hands are cool on it. Oh! This sun is so warm! It hurts! I want to hide!
The dragonet pushed his pale wings up to shade his head, and everyone could see how quickly they had begun to chap and peel!
“Get some oil on his skin quickly!” Baeris cried out, and pointed to the stand with the supplies just outside the exit.
Rivvov didn’t bother to announce anything to the people gathered, the only thing that was important was getting the painful sunlight off the dragon! Her heart raced: she’d just impressed a … Just IMPRESSED A DRAGON!
Another egg began to shake. This time it was a tiny grey-blue egg. Everyone thought that one might have grown still and cold, dying even though it was on warm sands and been turned diligently by Dulath or one of the attendants on a regular basis. It twirled, and began to wobble, and finally rolled off its small rise of sand. When it reached the low point nearby, it broke open and the green dragon inside it kept tumbling out, end over end! Her wings were tightly curled around her body, but they could be said to already be quite odd. The fingers were green, deeply so, but the sails were a faded graphite grey! They faded to grey on the ends, and were hardly translucent at all. Almost opaque, surely quite thick.
Then, the green’s head poked out from her protective wing. Small and bullet-shaped, the head shook and she looked rather perturbed to be out of her shell. When she unrolled herself, she showed off her more remarkable features. She had dark spots all over her body, and very slender long legs! And a tail to rival Riale’s blue! But this one had a grey end, with a stripe of dark green just before it. She hunkered down close to the sands, and then revved up her hind end. Graceful at first, but then soon quite out of control, she barreled at full speed right into Zenar!
I am happy you are here! I thought that the other would get you but I was wrong! I am Talkinith! Could we find them? Them? The ones that race? You race, don’t you? She bespoke quickly and in a high-pitched tone. Her voice squeeked out a little chirp, more like a bird than anything else!
“Of course we can race, Talkinith! But aren’t you hungry like the other dragonets?” Z’nar said, picking up the tiny green into his arms and walking out onto the terrace where the cut meat was being served.
Now, all that was left was sand and shells. And Myia.
No one even guessed that another egg had hatched. They were all busy muttering about the other eggs and the strange colors. None so bizarre as that orange, eh!? But among the buzzing voices and the shifting of weight on the stone planks, the fire lizards flitting about in the air chirping or crooning for a scrap outside… There was another voice. Unheard save by one girl.
Myia, you and I can go back to them and show them who is boss. I would never allow you to be hurt again. Nor your little brother. Come to me. I am stuck back here. My tail is jammed in!
All through the whole hatching, Myia had heard the various voices of dragons, their private impressions left open for her by an accident of mental fate. The voice was so much clearer than any before it though. Not even the search riders dragon or Dulath’s voice – even when speaking directly to her – had been this clear!
Finally, Myia picked her way across the sand, and found that around one of the small stone outcrops was another egg! The one she’d seen once or twice. It must have been rolled behind here by accident! A large one, too! But the egg was only half-solid any more – the other half of it was wide open, but facing away from where the candidates would have been standing!
“Where are you?” Myia asked, quietly. Then she heard a clear response.
Here, here. I am Senorith. You and I must go back to those cruel men. We will show them a lesson in kindness they’ll not soon forget!
The golden hide of this dragonet shone in the sun like … like spun gold! Like real gold! Myia had never even guessed that a golden dragon could look this beautiful! She freed the dragon’s long pointed tail from the stone, and then they walked proudly out to where the audience could see them.
“This is Senorith,” Myia announced. “She is my dragon. Can you believe it?”
Baeris laughed, and all the Harpers scrambled back to their records sheets to make sure they knew who this beautiful and huge gold had Impressed!