Rave Hatching!!

The Rave Hatching!

A warm breeze tore at the wispy, shallow clouds that snaked across the dimming sky. The sun was a large, red jewel on the horizon, nestling down for a night of sleep beneath the cover of the Dragon Tooth Mountains. The muggy, summer air slowly began to cool, denying the tropical land rain for another day. Though they were still in the rainy season, no storms had passed above the Warren or its surrounding towns for five days. All the seasoned, tropics born inhabitants squinted up at the sky and knew that when the rains came, they would pour. Yet in this time of heat and uncomfort, there were many outsiders to the region that complained daily of the sweltering weather.
They slept in beds covered with a fine sheet of silk, bathed in icy cold tubs, and spent their days indoors yet still managed to whine constantly. One would think that they were going to melt soon. Some people hoped they would.
In the large, glittering cavern known as the Warren, a great number of extra bodies increased the irritating heat to new levels. Though normally a very active place, Mystic’s precious home was nearly bursting at the seams with its new occupants. Even Drakmor was overstuffed with visitors. Dignitaries from across the ocean, other worldly people too eager not to miss a second of the upcoming event to wait for a signal from Mystic. Fortunately, the rooms that were most needed were still large enough to accommodate all its patrons with space to spare. This also was very fortunate, considering some of these people did not get along.
Even stranger was the activity outside the Warren’s walls. In the flight fields sat three, oddly shaped air ships. The vessels were sleek and stream line, as if someone had taken two halves of an oval and stuck them together then pounded out the sides to be wings. They were also massive things, resting on three, thin metal legs and shining a pure, liquid silver in the daylight. With the dusty red and pink streaks that washed across the sunset sky, their silvery shells became mirrors of fire. Most of the dragons and riders gave these... ships a fairly wide birth, though not all. While the ships did nothing but sit there, the curious dragons were quite amazed to find that they beeped and flashed bright lights if they got too close. Only a few of the Warren’s residents knew that this was due to the ships’ owners having fun.
Down the stretch of beach to Terglinear, two wooden ships had put into port. Though far more familiar to the confused people, they bore the flags of another continent. All of their passengers had been taken directly to the Warren via dragon back. It was safest and personally, Mystic wasn’t prepared for some of these noble and mighty lords to meet up yet. And only the noblest and mightiest of the continent, Saxet, were born across the waves to set into this small, fishing village. The same was true about the metal ships who had come from Barok. Though two of those ships had arrived earlier in order to help prepare for a spectacular event.
As Mystic sat at a fairly quiet table in the dining hall, her mind quickly running over these very details, she released a long sigh and let her head droop to the table top. By the gods... She muttered mentally to her bond. The silver dragoness was tucked away in her den but could easily hear the tired tone in her rider’s voice. Baeris thinks she has it bad with all those frenzies. I’d like to see her manage a meeting of the world’s snobbiest and most obnoxious rulers ever.
She’d probably do fine. Just like you. Myrah’Care returned while hiding a light chuckle. Of all the things in the world Mystic hated, snobby lords were the worst.
Sighing to herself, the red mage picked her face up off the table and reached for the mug of coffee sitting beside her paperwork. She absently rubbed a hand over her sore eyes and lifted the hot liquid to her lips, grateful for the spear of clarity the sudden burn in her throat offered. No wonder Rugan loved this stuff so much. Do you think the Barokian’s... machines will work? The question was only a flit in her mind, not really where her true concentration was centred.
The females say that the eggs still live. I don’t know if they’ll change anything though. I certainly haven’t seen any changes.
Nor I, my dear. Mystic replied, brushing a lock of golden hair behind her ears as she briefly scanned the paper before her. But they say it’s working and the eggs are near hatching. We’ll see what happens, hmm?
My only concern is that the hatchlings will be... intact. There was a nervous undertone to the silver’s voice. Mystic had the distinct impression that she didn’t enjoy thinking about what a non-intact dragonet would look like... or act like.
Speaking of the hatchlings, Mystic quickly changed the subject. I should probably check on them again. We must know the instant they’re ready to hatch. Leaning back in her chair, the Caretaker of the Warren let out a long, slow breath and cleared her mind of all thought. Touching the minds of unhatched dragons took a lot of effort.
She sped along the threads of her telepathy, feeling for the slight blur of her senses to indicate another mind. When she found them, the mage touched each dragonet in turn, checking to see if they slept or finally found the time ready to wake. Mystic counted 20 of the seen eggs, knowing a few more were hidden beneath the sands before she found something that made her stop short. On all the other checks, the hatchlings had been quiet and oblivious of her presence. Now though, there was something there. One of the eggs was beginning to stir.
Quickly speeding back to her own mind, Mystic was already running over the drill that had been practised, time and again, in anticipation of this event. She was so preoccupied with the dragonets that she didn’t notice her own husband as he called her name for the third time.
"Mystic!" Aaron said in exasperation. He sat beside his wife, staring into her blank eyes as they returned to normal. He was annoyed, not because she was off on some telepathic journey, but because she was still working when everyone else was unwinding for the day.
"Yes?" She blinked quickly, fixing the dark haired man with an inquisitive glance. From the set of his jaw and the annoyed look in his blue eyes, she knew the reason he had come looking for her. The red robed woman smiled lightly. "I was just checking on the hatchlings, love. Nothing more then that."
"And?" Aaron asked, one brow crawling up his forehead.
Mystic smiled again. "We had best start getting ready."
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Mystic paced sharply across the hard ground of her den and sat down at the paper covered desk by her book shelves. An entire family of firelizards chirped and twittered in the air above her head, eager to do their jobs after being assembled by Hope. The light blue draca herself sat patiently on the edge of Mystic’s desk, watching as her bond searched for a blank piece of paper.
Chip, Ayzha, Rugan, Nalfa and Saryan, I need you in my office immediately. The mental command went out to the five individuals, each with different purposes. Ayzha, her ward, acted as a messenger between the mage and the diplomats that were attending this strange hatching. Nalfa and Saryan were Mystic and Aaron’s squires, sent by other princes of Magik to study under the two leaders. Rugan had a purpose reserved solely for herself and the use of her skills.
By the time Mystic had finished scribbling out the last notice, all five of the people called had assembled before her desk. Though the large den was also her home and the Warren’s library, a round table off to the side served for meetings and important events. For now, the five stood straight and still before the busy mage.
Mystic glanced up quickly, rolling one of the notes deftly between her fingers and sliding it into a firelizard’s carrying case. "The eggs are beginning to hatch. Chip," she looked at the Barok born rider, "get Owen, Coldon and Megs and start the preparations. Ayzha," a quick look at her fiery, quiet ward, "get a ride from one of the unbonded dragons and start collecting the diplomats. Nalfa, Saryan," the last two, one girl and one boy, both young children and still quite awed by the grandeur of this place, "go gather up the candidates. Leave Dathius, Pyra, Tera and Skye to me. Rugan will handle Jinchu."
Relieved that they didn’t have to care for the dark and blood thirsty Jinchu, Nalfa and Saryan bowed their way out of the Caretaker’s presence. Chip flipped out a small, flat board and began pressing his fingers to the odd screen. Happily beginning his work, the Barok man saluted, bowed and left her study with a wide grin on his face. Ayzha scowled at the happy-go-lucky man. She scowled at anyone who was overly happy. Quickly bowing her respect to the mage, she too disappeared like a flicker of flame. The last firelizard lifted off with a note made out to one of the high ranking lords or ladies that had expressed interest in attending this clutch. There were quite a few of them. The only one to remain a moment longer was Rugan.
Mystic glanced up at the tall, imposing woman and nodded slightly. “Have the Hathians set up a guard around the hatching sands. I know Krent would see this as a wonderful opportunity to launch an attack.”
"Aye." The woman growled in her deep voice, black eyes narrow slits beneath heavy, black brows. "Just as we’ve planned." A low growl rose in her throat. "But I’d be happier running that candidate of yours through before setting him loose on the dragons."
Mystic smirked softly. "I know. Yet if he didn’t stand, whatever dragon was meant for him would be lost, confused and probably ready to start a rampage."
"True." Rugan admitted grudgingly. She nodded curtly, ready to leave. "And by the way," the dark skinned woman smirked lightly as she half turned towards the door. "Nice outfit."
Mystic chuckled softly and leaned back in her chair as she watched the metal smith walk out of the room. The outfit that she spoke of was an authentic, Barokian work suit. One that everyone in Barok with a job wore and that she herself was now wearing for ‘posterity’s sake.’
The single piece, white plastic suit covered her from head to toe, beginning with a small collar around her neck and ending with zip-on boots. Laces of blue and gold wires cris-crossed over her torso and down her legs, glittering and beeping with multitudes of lights. A patch on the left of her chest glowed with confusing statistics that monitored her vitals and the environment around her. Since the suit was skin tight, she was able to wear her rider’s band around her arm, as it should be. The pins that declared her position in the Warren looked a bit odd, gold protrusions from the sleek, immaculate white. Luckily though, she hadn’t been forced to wear one of the helmets that came along with such a suit. Her hair, as usual was let loose with only two, small braids pulled back from her forehead and fastened at the back. The mage felt quite naked without her volumes of red and gold silk, but there was nothing to be done about it.
"I’m not coming out!" Aaron’s disgusted, indignant voice hollered from the other room. He had been asked to wear a similar outfit and, because of the nature of this hatching, had to. Mystic looked over at the door that separated the main room from their sleeping chambers and smiled softly.
"It’s can’t be that bad, love. Besides, you have to." She bit back a laugh as her dark haired, dark skinned husband threw open the door and appeared in a purely white suit; as skin tight as her own.
"There is no way in the Nine Hells I’m going out there like this." He said in all seriousness, glaring at his wife’s amused look. "What are you laughing about? You’re wearing the same thing."
"You look fine, Aaron." Mystic smoothed out her features and spoke with as much honesty as she could muster. Aaron smirked, a mischievous gleam lighting his blue eyes.
"If you wear the other outfit they offered, I’ll wear this."
"Absolutely not!" The mage looked appalled at the idea. "That other thing is no more then two strips of plastic."
"I like it." Aaron grinned, striding over to Mystic’s side and pulling her to her feet.
"Fine. You wear it." Mystic grinned in return, planting a quick kiss on Aaron’s cheek. She changed the topic before he could protest. "It’s time we get going."
Aaron grumbled as he followed Mystic out the door and down the main hall that would lead them outside. It was, unfortunately, a bit of a walk to where the Hathians had made their home but there was still time left before the eggs so much as shuddered. Mystic had timed this as perfectly as possible.
As they traversed the long, twisting tunnels in silence, both thinking of the plans they had made and repeatedly gone over for the Rave hatching. There was a great deal to be done and many people to organize without everything descending into chaos. Soon though, two people caught up with the leaders of the Warren and quickly fell into step beside them.
Saryan cast Aaron a curious look and eyed the suit with more then a hint of suspicion. "You look funny." He spoke his mind freely, as he always did.
Aaron smirked lightly, ruffling his squire’s light brown hair. "Someday, you’ll be embarrassing yourself for important people too, Saryan."
Nalfa suppressed a giggle and cast Mystic a shy glance. She was a great deal quieter then her companion, but was always ready to speak up, should the need arise. Mystic smiled warmly. She was far happier with two squires instead of a contingent of rowdy fosterlings. It allowed both herself and Aaron more time to interact with the children as well as lessening the amount of fights that happened with some of the Warren’s other occupants.
"Are the candidates ready?" Mystic asked of the auburn haired Nalfa. The girl nodded quickly.
"Magika’s leading them down to the dens. She took over after me and Saryan told them it was time."
Mystic smirked to herself. After a month spent in the Warren, it was no wonder Magika wanted to take the lead again. Though she had never claimed to be a true leader, she liked being the sole figure head of Adanuk Weyr. The mage brushed off the thought and nodded slightly. "Good. Aaron," she looked at her husband as they turned a corridor, "go find Chip and see that everything is in order. Nalfa will come with me to get Dathius and the others."
The Caretaker Second nodded and they split ways at the next tunnel (there were a lot of them in this place). Leading her young apprentice down to the adjacent barracks that had been built on in the first year of the Hathian’s arrival, Mystic told Nalfa to wait in the hall while she spoke to Dathius.
The vampire/werewolf cross breed was an odd one. He had come from one of the alternate Earths with two of his companions. His friends had gone off to other places while he remained here as a candidate.
"Dathius?" Mystic inquired politely as she stood in the doorway. The dark haired man sat on his bed, contently reading a book. He knew the others had left for the hatching but he was to remain until Mystic herself called him. Especially since it was growing dark outside. There was only one window in the room, which he avoided religiously at night. So far, there had been no difficulties. He looked up from the reading material and caught the mage’s eye.
"I can’t go out there." It was that simple. Should he be touched by moonlight, he’d transform and probably start killing things.
"You can." Mystic smiled in return. "There’s cloud cover tonight, Dathius. You’ll be fine." She grinned slightly. "Besides, should anything happen, I’ll be there to take care of it."
Hesitant and a bit wary of the encroaching night, Dathius set aside his book and stood up. He cast Mystic one more glance before leaving the room and following Nalfa down to the dens. Mystic let out a held breath before moving onto the next three rooms.
"Pyra, Tera, Skye." She spoke the names, knowing the girls understood nothing else of her language. When all three emerged from their respective chambers, Mystic handed each a small, curious device. She pointed to the vital monitors on her own suit then motioned for them to fasten the devices on their outfits.
"This is stupid. I can’t understand a word she’s saying and I’m sick of being stuck in this hole in the ground." Pyra growled as she pinned on the metallic item. She didn’t realize ‘til after that Mystic had understood everything she said.
"It’s more then just a hole in the ground, Pyra." Mystic grinned, hiding a chuckle at the girls’ bewildered expressions. They had all understood her. "If you’re so opposed to being here, you can just leave." A sly smirk touched the red robed woman’s lips. "I’m sure you won’t care about missing the hatching."
Pyra’s eyes grew wide in astonishment, then narrowed angrily. She grumbled under her breath while falling into step behind the mage. Skye took up a place beside Mystic while Tera trailed not too far behind, always wary of Pyra behind her.
"Do we get to keep these things?" Skye asked curiously as the group finally emerged in the twilight forest outside. Mystic smiled softly, taking the quickest path through the thick foliage to the hidden Hathian dens.
"No, unfortunately. I'll be needing them back after the hatching." The rest of the trip was made in relative silence. All three were nervous (though Pyra and Skye refused to show it) about the impending hatching and what might result from it. Mystic was intent on getting through this thing without a hitch. It was, by far, the largest Hathian hatching as well as being very important to the Warren’s standing with Barok.
The tree cover broke suddenly, allowing all four women to step onto the warmed sands of the Hathian’s den. Pyra, Skye and Tera were in awe over the ring of red dragons that guarded this special place; as well as the numerous dragonesses that waited impatiently by the quivering eggs.
Perfect. Mystic boasted proudly to herself. She loved being right, especially about delicate timing such as this. Sending the girls off to stand with the other candidates, Mystic joined her husband at the ladder that lead up to the wooden walkways strung through the trees. These walkways served the purpose of seating all the on lookers who had come to this great event.
"Chip says everything’s in order." Aaron reported dutifully while casting a wary glance at the ladder. "I’m not climbing that."
"Baby." Mystic smirked. Just the same, she quickly cast the spell that would teleport both of them up to the walkway in a flash of blue light.
Standing firmly on the wooden planks, Mystic calmed her racing heart (she was still nervous, no matter how much planning had gone into this) and began walking through the crowd of people. The Barokian lords smiled and bowed, pleased to see the Warren leaders in the flashy attire. Record keepers and normal occupants of the Warren raised a brow or hid a smile, amazed to see Mystic in anything but red and gold. When they finally reached the Weyrleaders and important figure heads from other worlds, Mystic and Aaron received the strangest reactions.
Gazing upon the proud couple who lead this oddly magical gathering, the leaders showed various reactions. Some were shocked, some amused. Magika fell to the ground, bursting out in rancious laughter.
"Too.... many... jokes. Must... make fun.... of Mystic." Adanuk’s Weyrwoman breathed through her laughs. Her sides were already beginning to hurt and she couldn’t seem to support herself whenever she looked at the white clad Mystic. Glancing at an indignant Aaron, she collapsed into roars of laughter again.
Mystic glared at her supposed ‘best friend’ while she and Aaron took their places before the central seats. "Pest." She growled, noting that some of the others snickered quietly at the odd sight.
"Geez, Mystic." Magika snickered while raking a gaze over Aaron. "I never knew what you saw in him before this."
Mystic’s eyes grew wide with indignation and her face turned a bright shade of red. Aaron’s dark tan took on a rosy tint as he reached quickly for his sword sheath. A grinning Shard restrained Aaron while Head Knight Sherra clapped a hand over Mystic’s mouth. No one know what spell she had been about to cast, or what the spidery words meant, but it was obvious that it was directed at Magika with the intent of silencing her. Possibly forever.
"Shush. It’s not that bad." Baeris grinned to herself, helping the breathless Magika to her feet. She frowned as Magika took one look at Mystic and crumpled into another fit of giggles. Giving up on the Weyrwoman, she turned to Mystic and raised a slender brow slightly. "I think it looks fine."
Assuring Sherra that she was calm.... kind of, Mystic let out a deep breath and spared a single glare for Magika before ignoring her. "The Barokian’s requested it. I find the suits to be quite practical." Another scathing glare at Magika.
"What suit? I knew you were in a hurry but you could’ve at least taken the time to put on some clothes." Magika dissolved into laughter again, this time earning a few more snickers from the group around them.
"Enough jokes." Sanraxian Sargon spoke while concealing a mirthful grin. "The hatching’s about to start."
Mystic nodded and composed herself. To give the signal that the event had officially begun, she was to light the various torches lining the walkway at the same time that Chip turned on the multi-coloured search lights set along the ground. She raised her hand and swept it over the crowd, a spark of blue fire beginning at one end of the walk and racing after her motion to light every one of the gracefully carved torches. An approving murmur ran through the crowd as Mystic smiled and fluidly sat back in her chair. Tall, blue Shard raised a brow curiously at the pleased grin on her face.
"Enjoying yourself?" He inquired. Mystic grinned, a look of aloof innocence touching her eyes.
"My dear, I’m in my element."
Everyone took their seats and silence descended throughout the entire gathering. The only noise was the faint crack of the eggs and, occasionally, a rippling giggle from Magika’s direction. Mystic cast a swift glance over the various eggs and the huddled group of candidates awaiting their hatching.
The Barokian’s had been allowed to tamper with the eggs at their will, twisting and combining genetics to create odd mutations in the hatchlings. Unlike normal, cream coloured shells, these eyes were a rainbow of colours. Stripped, spotted, multi-coloured, large, small, everything that a normal egg wasn’t. There were a few that seemed untouched, very similar to what they had been before the experimentation.
Mystic switched her gaze to the candidates, studying each in turn as she had when they’d first arrived. The only one not standing among the clustered groups and nervous hopefuls was a young, insane girl who hid behind Magika. The girl, Kieoxa, was Magika’s reason for staying so long at the Warren. She felt Kieoxa was her responsibility, considering one of her Search Riders had whisked the girl off her world without so much as an explanation. She couldn’t blame them though. Either of them.
Grimly, Mystic pushed the thought of Magika’s charge from her mind and watched intently as the first egg began to quiver and shake with more force. Do any of you know which eggs come from whom? She projected to the silver dame, Helitha, who stood protectively over the gathered eggs.
Not an idea. The graceful silver responded quickly. There are seven mothers, including myself, and yet none of us know which are our eggs. The scientists mixed them up too much. The last was said in a low growl, bringing a light smile to Mystic’s lips. The clutch mothers had been against this idea from the beginning.
"Look!" Someone exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention to the hatchling that was crawling from it’s broken shell. Record keepers bent their heads to their papers and breaths were held as the hatchling fully revealed itself.
Fiery, red-yellow wings flared from the young one’s sleek, flame marked arms. She raised her head proudly, hissing at the night sky as her eyes blazed with life. People gasped at the colouring on her magnificent scales, and then at the tint of her short horns. They were silver!
As the fire marked dragonet basked in the glory of all those watching her, two more eggs split neatly down the middle and spilt their contents onto the warm sands. One was a bright, pure orange, from nose tip to tail, while the other had the markings of earth and forest.
Brown bodied and green winged, the dragonet snorted sand from his snout, having plowed head first into the ground. He shook off his silvery horns and looked calmly over the selection of candidates before fixing an annoyed gaze on his fiery sister.
The fire dragonet growled angrily, lunging at her brown brother as if to assert herself as higher then him. The brown snorted in reply, rearing up on his hind legs and flapping his wet wings in a show of power and grace. He roared with his young, undeveloped voice and that was enough to send the fire queen hissing off to find her bond.
Pyra knelt and stroked the head of her flaming bond while casting a furious glare at Tera. The Earth Guard was looking down in stunned amazement at the earth male who bowed respectfully at her feet. Turning away, Pyra ‘hrumphed’ and announced to the crowd.
"Her name is Aidan!" She called in a loud voice, gloating at the fact that everyone could now understand her, thanks to that curious little device. Aidan purred and wrapped herself around the girl’s arms, demanding food with a sharp image to the Fire Guard’s mind.
"Pha- Phaestus!" Tera stuttered, a grin spreading across her face. She swooped down and gathered the earth male in her arms, looking joyously up at the stands. “His name is Phaestus!”
While that was going on, the orange male yawned and quickly grew bored with the selection of candidates. In a prim voice, he announced to Mystic herself that his name was Erallus and he was going to stay here ‘thank-you-very-much.’
Three more eggs shattered in unison, expelling a silky, platinum coloured male, a black female, and a blue and orange male. The black growled to herself, quickly finding her feet and glaring at her siblings. A long, whip-like tail lashed behind her, kicking up shell shards and clouds of sand. The platinum, not one to argue with such a fierce female, quickly shimmed away and turned his attention to the candidates.
Tyrus was astounded by the liquid tone of the male’s colour, shifting and blending as if he would simply shimmer and disappear at any moment. He was more amazed to see the platinum looking back at him; and grinning.
"Kaleraith!" The boy shouted suddenly, running forward to embrace his unique bond. Kaleraith purred contentedly, sending images of food and immense hunger to his bond. Tyrus laughed as he lifted the male in his arms and walked off the sands.
Meanwhile, the blue-orange male was sniffing around another egg, currently uninterested in the candidates. Everyone’s attention was on him as one of the eggs rolled directly into him and exploded with a yelp and a smash. A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd when the shocked blue-orange looked up into the bewildered eyes of a female red-violet.
"Katana!" The sudden name startled everyone. For a moment, the new pair couldn’t be found. Then, a flash of gray and blue and Mystic grinned to herself, watching Sabre leading the black female to the food. As the light caught on her soft scales, a glint of deep blue could be seen.
The blue-orange and red-violet untangled themselves from each other and began a conversation of curious cheeps and coos. Todd laughed, watching the odd pair. "Make up your minds!" He called to the pair of duo-toned dragonets. For a moment afterwards, he was silent. Then he laughed again and ran with Sara to meet the awaiting hatchlings.
"She says her name is Searaun!" Sara called out happily, lifting the red-violet in her arms. Searaun chirped happily, rubbing her two toned cheek against the singer’s cheek.
"He’s-" Todd paused as his blue-orange bond began to sing suddenly. At first, it was a soft note, carried in a delicate soprano. Searaun joined her voice to the male’s and together they sang out a few cordes in perfect harmony. When they finished, Todd looked at his dragonet in frank amazement. "Tagarok, you can sing." He said to the blue-orange. Tagarok chirped happily.
There was a slight lull in the hatching as four more eggs rocked intently. One of the smaller, more normal eggs seemed to be having trouble. It was rocking but not cracking like the others were. Erallus picked himself up from Helitha’s protective side and walked over to the oval orb, peering at it curiously. Raising one, wing tined arm, he smashed a hole in the top of the egg at the same time that the other three broke open.
Two yellows struggled from the dissolving eggs, earning more gasps from the crowd. Their scale colour was normal but, like their siblings, their horns were silver. The third egg fell apart to reveal a silver with equally silver horns and, finally, the smallish egg that Erallus had helped split open to reveal another orange.
Three of the four hatchlings wasted no time in finding their bonds. The silver strode purposefully over to Korie and boldly announced that her name was Mirflameze. Each yellow chose another girl. T’mars found a friend in Lilith, small and sweet while Rynama learned that her bond was named Indefra.
The final one, the orange, looked up at the crowded walkway and shyly asked her brother to tell the humanoids that her name was Baketra. She, like Erallus was to stay at the Warren.
While that was going on, egg number ten hatched and out rolled a shining, gold-tan male with striking, black wings. The gold male snorted indignantly as he got to his feet, shaking the sand from his silver horns. He cast an appraising eye over the remaining candidates and settled on an unsure, confused man in the back.
Ahearn looked in wonderment down at the hatchling as he informed the former centaur that his name was Tetrak. Still shaky on his human legs, Ahearn bent down and gathered Tekrak into his arms. There was power in the small, gold tinted male with black wings. Even as the man thought this, Tekrak smiled smugly.
Someone in the crowd shrieked and pointed hurriedly at the remaining candidates. Mystic looked quickly, her temper flaring as she saw Jinchu’s hand grip the hilt of a hidden dagger. Before the mage could react, he leapt forward and attacked one of the hatching eggs, tearing open the shell and forcefully exposing the hatchling to the night sky.
"He’s killed it!" Head Knight Sherra hissed as she stood abruptly. Mystic stood as well, though more slowly as her natural aura of magic grew and intensified into a visible, tangible force. The hatchling should have been dead, his scaled ripped off before he had a chance to wriggle free of the binding egg fluids by his own accord. Yet he wasn’t dead. In fact, he was quite alive and snapping angrily at Jinchu’s hand.
The assassin jumped back, a feral grin on his face as the hatchling lashed out with claws and teeth. His scales were a deep, rich red in colour, blood red. Streaks of black, like slashed from a blade, crossed over his shoulders and neck and the silver horns that rose from his head sparked like wicked blades in the artificial light of Chip’s spot lights. He shrieked as only a hatchling could and glared fiercely at Jinchu. Oddly, suspiciously, the man returned the blade to its sheath and bowed his head in respect to the dragonet. "Mortarius." He spoke with a note of hungry joy.
The killer pair were about to turn their skilled blades on the remaining candidates when a breath taking force surrounded both. Jinchu gasped, feeling his chest tighten and his limbs freeze up, as if he had been incased in cement. In his mind, Mortarius cried out his anger, feeling the same, overpowering field surround him. Both males hovered a few feet off the ground, surrounded by a pulsing, white glow that emanated from Mystic’s outstretched hand.
"That is enough." She bellowed in a voice intensified by magic. The powerful sound carried across the entire gathering, fixing the attention of everyone present on her glowing form. Her eyes blazed with imperious hatred and contempt for the assassin turned rider. A magic-born wind whispered pass her and tossed the edges of her cloak with their unseen fingers. Slowly, a knowing smirk tugged at her thinned lips. "Congratulations, Jinchu. You have impressed. Now though, there is nothing left to protect you." She flicked her wrist and the boy swung around to face her, still held in thrall by the strength of her spell. "You have no more need to be here and will promptly be relocated to Cy Dragonstake, where Head Knight Sherra will deal with you and your... bond." She smiled mockingly, nodding for Rugan to step forward. "You know my metal smith, Rugan, correct? She and her bonds will escort you to Cy. Unfortunately, she’s not as patient with criminals as myself and wouldn’t hesitate to kill you should you so much as flinch." Another flick of her wrist and dragon and rider dropped to the ground with a thud. "Remember that during your trip."
"Make my day." Rugan grinned, her Liron heritage showing through in the eager glint in her dark eyes. "Try somethin’ stupid." She hauled the man to his feet, her other hand gripping the hilt of her trusted sword. Mortarius spared one lethal glare for the crowd before following his bond and their escort to the two, awaiting dragons.
Mystic sat again, releasing a low sigh as her gaze remained fixed on the shaking eggs. She didn’t have to turn her head to see the surprised looks some of the onlookers were giving her.
The next two eggs hatched almost immediately after Jinchu’s departure, as if afraid to come out before the frightening man had left. One was a glittering combination of a metallic rainbow, rippling all the colours and yet remaining a cold, steely grey with vibrant, blue wings. The other was a delicate combination of storm colours. Violets, pinks and dark blues, all accented by streaks of silvery-white lightning flashing over the edges of her beautiful wings.
The metallic male acted first, creeling loudly to the candidates and strutting around as if taunting the hopefuls. Only one man took up the challenge, shifting his odd form into something similar to the playful hatchling. Kkwrea chirped and cooed like a dragonet, bouncing around his bond with a care-free attitude. Even Mystic had to chuckle softly as the shifter boy and his rainbow metallic bond left the sands. A moment before they were out of ear shot, someone shouted for the dragonet’s name.
"Sunamus!" Kkwrea called back in a clipped voice, having shifted back to his favourite form.
That left a seemingly shy storm dragoness all alone with her unhatched siblings. She stalled for a moment, looking over the female candidates with a bashful gaze. Finally, her glittering blue eyes caught on a beauty to equal her own and the storm colour hatchling bounded to Vega’s side. The elegantly beautiful girl from Lao Damia smiled proudly up at Sargon in the stands as she called out that her bond’s name was Risientith.
A dark coloured hatchling crawled from his egg in the next instant, creeling to his light coloured clutch mate as she too emerged into the oddly lit gathering. On the walkway, Mystic caught a look of pride and happiness wash over DragonSeer’s face as she watched Erian and Naire step forward. Only a few years ago, it had been her waiting down there on the same sands, watching as a fiery red dragoness chose her as her bond.
"Briaket!" Erian called while cradling the light coloured female in his strong arms.
"And Noirlan." Naire smiled as she held her dark coloured dragonet. Like she and her brother, the two dragons were opposites in every way, yet could never be closer.
An oblong, milky white egg rolled onto its side and opened up to reveal the strangest hatchling yet. Instead of creeling, the white and brown male lifted his muzzle and let off a mixture between a baa and a howl. Even stranger was the stubbed ends of his silver horns. They looked more like sheep horns then anything that belonged on a dragon! Mystic raised a confused brow as the newly hatched dragon bounded past the onlookers and settled himself but a nice crop of lush, green grass.
"Baith! You’ll help me protect my sheep, won’t you?" Pazzo grinned foolishly, his large, front teeth hanging out over his lower lip. Baith looked up from his pleasant grazing and replied with another odd baa.
"Ooh! He brought dinner." Magika spoke while eyeing the conglomerate of sheep that followed Pazzo over to the sheep/dragon’s side.
"Don’t touch the sheep." Mystic warned under her breath, remember the tale the dragon rider had told her upon bringing Pazzo to the Warren.”
"Apparently he killed his parents for trying to eat one of his sheep." Aaron supplied. He was equally edgy around the queer boy.
"Don’t touch the sheep." Mystic said again, a undertone of urgent pleading in her voice.
Five eggs exploded at once then, leaving only two eggs unhatched. From one crawled a female with swirling shades of blue sweeping across her delicate scales. She looked imperiously over the meagre selection of candidates and huffed angrily. Lifting her two toned tail over the sands, the female picked her way towards Skye and declared in a swirl of images that she thought it was quite rude for her earth and fire siblings to have gone on without her.
"You can tell them off after you eat, Vulca." The Air Guard assured her bond while stroking the female’s still damp head gently.
A third orange and an odd, spotted-tan dragon stalked around the sands together, growling warningly at their gray and black brother. The wolfish male looked on his sisters with a questioning gaze, seeming to laugh at their antics before turning towards the candidates. The spotted female hissed, darting forward before he could so much as blink. She skidded to a halt by Growlnoa’s feet and purred in a feline manner.
The cat-girl knelt by her spotted companion, admiring the blotches of black and deep brown that caressed her smooth scales. “Tigrosa.” She purred in her low, throaty voice. The hatchling responded with an affirmative chirp, leaving her oddly wolfish, gray brother, orange sister and another gray male with distinctive black socks on his paws and around his muzzle.
An anguished human voice howled with pain suddenly. Mystic caught her breath as Dathius crumpled to the ground, a spot of pure, silky moonlight washing over his shivering form. The boy looked up, terror in his wolfen eyes as the transformation began.
"You did give him the serum, didn’t you?" Aaron inquired urgently of his wife. When she made no response, his eyes grew wide with a fear akin to Dathius’. "Oh gods! The candidates!" The knightly man exclaimed, already starting to push his way through the crowded walk way to reach the ladder.
"Wait!" Mystic called out, holding out a shaking hand to stop her husband’s urgent attempts to reach the ground. She stood and gripped the front railing tightly, staring down as a miracle unfolded.
Dathius’ head pounded with a red fog as the fury of his wolfen form began to emerge. There was nothing he could do to stop it and, as it had happened so many times before, he was drowning in his own mind. He was afraid. Fearing what would happen to the candidates, or perhaps to the dragons, when he was fully shifted. Most of all, he felt utterly helpless in his own body.
Shh.... The voice was soft and oddly draconic. With it came a wave of calming emotions, smothering the glare of moonlight that lingered behind his vision. The other mind wrapped around his own, soothing the rage of his other form and seeming to cradle Dathius in a gentle embrace. Slowly, lovingly, the draconic mind eased Dathius back to his full, human form.
Sweat dotting his forehead and breathing coming in laboured gasps, the wolfen shifter looked up into the starlit eyes of the gray and black dragonet. "Norinaketh." He whispered in a hoarse voice, wrapping his arms gratefully around the hatchling’s small neck.
Mystic let out a relieved sigh and sunk back into her seat as the dragonet helped his shaky rider off the sands. She didn’t catch Aaron’s dark glare but knew that he was giving her one as he sat back in his own chair.
"That was a very stupid thing to do." His lowered voice was meant only for her ears. She swallowed lightly and nodded, pale from fright as she knew, had Norinaketh not helped Dathius, she couldn’t have stopped the change. The results would have been disastrous.
After that scare, the second last egg hatched with a loud crack, revealing a red dragonet with the same markings as her still unbonded, gray brother. The orange had wandered off with the other two oranges and lazily told record’s keepers that her name was Doraket. Then, the red and black marked female yawned and stretched out by the remains of her shell. Her gray brother cooed a welcome, waiting patiently by her side. There were only two candidates left on the sands and that seemed to suit these two ‘foxy’ dragonets just fine.
Kaltari smirked triumphantly as the red female slunk over to her side with a mischievous glint in her faceted eyes. Her twin brother, Yelkin looked down at the gray male with a curious grin on his dark face. The Seigher twins had been some of the last to arrive at the Warren, and it was only fitting that they seemed to be last to bond.
"Alantra." Kaltari spoke of her own bond then nodded a head towards her brother who was leaving with the gray male. “That one’s Cygnosis.” Names announced, the tall, gracefully slender woman lifted Alantra in her arms and followed Yelkin to the feeding grounds.
Mystic cast a sideways glance at Efellai and smiled lightly. "Favour repaid." The comment earned a slight grin from the elven leader of the Moire Protectorate.
Silence hung in the air like a held breath as everyone stared hopefully at the last egg. It was small, very small, and shone with a soft, silvery gleam. The shell was smooth and completely round, like a perfect pearl in the middle of a sea of shattered rocks. But it didn’t move.
"There was bound to be at least one dud." Baeris spoke into the stillness, trying to ease the look of sadness on everyone’s face. "It was an experimental clutch."
Mystic nodded slowly, her gaze shifting from the unhatched egg to the patrons who were beginning to stand, believing the clutch to be over with. A movement out of the corner of her eye flashed her sight over to the various leaders who had come out for this spectacular event.
"Where do you think you’re going?" She asked imperiously, as if speaking to a young child. Everyone stopped, glancing back at her with questioning looks. The mage stood, quirking a sly, knowing grin as she raised her arms to the crowd and declared in a loud voice. "We still have a Rave to attend!" A loud cheer rang up from the crowd at the same time that Chip gave the signal for the music to begin. With a back beat pumping through the night air, Mystic turned her mysterious smile on the visiting leaders. "I hope you don’t get easily air sick."
Magika nearly bit through her tongue as she tried to restrain her laughter. The movements that would have been graceful in Mystic’s old attire, were now made awkward and laughable in the Barok suit. Without interruption, the mage completed the intricate hand motions and spoke the fluid words that would teleport everyone in the small group over to the Rave grounds.
Light shimmered around each stunned individual, wrapping them in a magical cloak that tangled in the winds of Mystic’s spell and bore each person in a flash of brilliance over to the well lit dance area. Some of those who had watched from the ground paused a moment to see the red mage in all her glory, basking in the river of colours that came with her awakened talents. Soon though, the call of the thrumming music and laughing voices urged them onwards, through the forest to the open field where Barok technology had turned the ground into a wonder of metal and light.
In a few moments, the walkway was cleared and even the dragons had departed to enjoy a peaceful rest. The mothers would try to figure out which dragonet came from whom while each of them denied parentage to the blood coloured demon, Mortarius. Only one person remained huddled against the wide, rough bark of the trees that supported the wooden planks. Curled up by herself and forgotten by the one who had promised to care for her.
~It’s alright.~ Hope called needlessly to her departed bond. The draca cooed softly from her perch on a tree branch, staring off into the distance where the faint glow of artificial lights could be seen. ~I’ll stay here. All alone.~ She turned her pink crested head and peered sadly down at the abandoned girl. ~Just me and Kieoxa.~
"Gone." She whispered in a hoarse voice, staring around at the deserted den. Memories of her past flew to mind, the fighting, the fire, the death. "They’re all gone."
Slowly, shakily, she rose to her feet and gripped the forward railing as if ready to collapse through the boards at any moment. Her dulled, green eyes darted wildly over the night shadowed ground, resting finally on a single, illuminated orb. With her eyes constantly fixed on the unhatched egg, Kieoxa made her way towards the ladder and then down to the dirt covered ground.
The sand burned her bare feet but she barely noticed. Nor did she notice Hope flittering down from the tree tops to land gently on her shoulder. For the first time since her arrival, the girl who had attacked snagons with a fire poker, did not scream and shoo the flying creature away. Instead, she continued walking, as if in a daze, to that unmoved egg. Shards of broken shells cut her feet and soon, her steps were marked with droplets of bright red blood. All she saw was the past, where her friends had burned and she was the only one left. But now, there was another.
Kieoxa sat down by the perfectly round egg and pulled her knees up to her chin, staring at the shell as if it was a stranger that had called to her in a moment of loneliness. Her black hair tumbled around her shoulders in thick knots that hadn’t been cared for in days. Resting her chin on her knees, the girl began to rock back and forth while humming a tune that had often soothed her nightmares.
The hum became words and the tune took on the form of her mother’s lullaby, drifting through the night and audible only to the three beings present. As Hope listened to the enchanting song, she jumped from Kieoxa’s shoulder to the egg, knowing already that it was long dead. A sudden tremor of movement and feeble tap against the shell beneath Hope’s feet caused the draca to chirp in surprise. She looked down at the egg, watching as a hairline crack formed where the weak hatchling pushed all her might against the prison walls. Kieoxa’s lullaby never ceased, not even as Hope began to desperately scratch and nip at the toughened egg shell.
There was a great deal of chirping and cracking that shouldn’t have gone on where Kieoxa was. She was, of course, back home, singing for the Masters as she should have done instead of running out to the streets. A nagging sense at the back of her mind told her that she was not on Earth and there were no Masters here. She was sitting by a dead egg, singing to no one but herself. Angrily, Kieoxa pushed away the knowledge of her sanity.
Hope leapt into the air, singing a mixture of joyful and amazed chitters as the hatchling trapped inside her own egg finally pushed away a large chunk of shell. She snorted, breathing deeply of the crisp, night air before tumbling over in her still mostly whole egg and landing her head in Kieoxa’s lap. The hatchling creeled pathetically, not possessing the strength to finish emerging.
Kieoxa started and nearly screamed, feeling a warm presence land suddenly on her leg. She looked down, more then ready to see another angry snagon come to torment her. Her gaze was met, rather, by the wide, blue eyes of an exquisitely small dragonet.
Her scales glittered with a mixture of white and trapped fire. Reds, yellows, pinks, even blues sparkled on her wet scales as she shifted in the light. A tip of her wing could be seen, revealing a dazzling display of yellow and red fire. The hatchling tilted her head to the side, sending sparks of blue dancing across her nose. She shone like a gem, like an opal!
Kieoxa swallowed a lump that had built in her dry throat. She knew the creature’s name but was afraid to speak it. Tenderly, the girl broke away bits of shell until the opal female could crawl fully into the girl’s lap. There she sat, dainty and innocent and staring into Kieoxa’s eyes, willing her to say the word on the tip of her tongue.
"Chrunocrus." She spoke finally, her heart racing with the beauty of the name and the dragonet before her. Tears welled in her eyes and she threw her arms around Chrunocrus’ neck, feeling the hatchling purr in response. There was no more sadness.
* * *
But it’s not over yet!
Back at the Rave arena, the music was pumping out at an obnoxiously loud level, people were jumping up and down with no real beat, and the thrill of the night couldn’t be higher. Mystic smiled, satisfied with the change of attire she had whisked up in the teleportation over here. She’d exchanged the white plastic suit for a slinky, sequined red dress that twirled around her ankles like water. Her feet were strapped into high heeled sandals, not much different then her normal, flat sandals. Aaron’s outfit had changed as well. From the similar white plastic to his favourite blue tunic, trimmed in silver and black pants. Thigh high black boots tucked in the light material of his pants, giving him an elegantly trimmed appearance.
"I haven’t been to one of these in a long time." Saxet’s representative and rider of white Aisinish, Lenoth spoke with a gleeful grin on her lips.
"You’ve been to a rave before?" Mystic inquired with a raised brow. The amazingly beautiful elven woman smiled, mischief dancing in her gray-blue eyes. Mystic chuckled and shook her head. "Never mind." As Lenoth waltzed off to find a dance partner, the red mage turned to the other leaders who still hovered on the edge of the dance floor.
"This is all kind of... loud." Efellai spoke dubiously of the tightly pressed bodies and blaring music. What could be termed music anyway. It looked like the band up on stage was just banging instruments and shouting into the microphone.
"Ps-haw!" Magika scoffed, strutting past the group and linking her arm through Shard’s. She smiled, looking up at the tall, slightly bewildered, leader of the Kshau Protectorate. "Come on, tall, blue and handsome. Let’s dance."
With that, whole hearted participation in the wild rave began. People paired off and went to join the throngs of other people bouncing across the metal floor. Baeris, seeing more alluring prospects already having a good time, invited herself into the swaying groups and picked out someone from the crowd. Mystic and Aaron were the last to disappear into the sea of bodies.
The current song came to an end and Chip hopped lightly up to the steel domed stage. He thanked the band and turned to the awaiting group of eager youths. "And now!" The Barok man proclaimed loudly into the microphone. "Give it up for the Solos!"
Sara and Todd literally jumped up the few steps to the wide, perfectly tuned stage. Their new bonds waddled behind, taking up places at their rider’s feet while the two Solos picked up their instruments and stuck up a lively, brand new tune. Tagarok and Searaun provided backup to Sara’s luting voice.
While people danced and the music played, Keelar, Hope’s mate, sat protectively over two, shuddering eggs in the tent provided the new riders a few feet away from the rave arena. He cast a calculating, suspicious eye over those gathered around him. The brown and violet male would be the one to decide who got his children. Not them.
~Dathius, Tyrus.~ He spoke the names sharply to the two boys, separating them from the group with a stern glare. The others backed off, somewhat disappointed, but still overjoyed with the results of the hatching.
Alone with the eggs and the defensive father, Dathius and Tyrus each chose one of the small, cracking orbs and pulled up a seat by the bowl of food set on the table. Keelar chirped once, still lounged out by the nest of sand that had been prepared for his children. He watched with as much care and eagerness as the two eggs cracked, spilling their captives into the awaiting hands of the two men.
Dathius grinned, dangling a piece of meat before the black, starry marked head of his male hatchling. The draca creeled, snapping hungrily at the offered meat and wrapping his long, slender tail around Dathius’ thumb at the same time. ~Stop teasing!~ He exclaimed, tugging the food from Dathius’ fingers and eagerly tearing into it. ~Thanks! Name’s Tsunak, by the way.~
Tyrus’ tiny, sun marked female was far more polite in taking her meal and elegantly biting off strips to chew without difficulty. She paused momentarily, looking up at her new friend. ~I’m Solarii. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tyrus.~
Clouds darted away from the full moon that had risen over Tris’Hath that night. Stars glittered in the sky and the promise of a cooling rain drifted away, not to be seen again until early the next morning. The rave would be over by then and the happy, exhausted dancers would celebrate the welcome down pour from the safety of the Warren’s walls. Many new bonds had been made and three hatchlings would soon be added to the list of Packs for the Hathians. The throughly proud and boastful mothers would sit in their den, making a unanimous swear never to do this again!
At least not until Saxet requested a clutch of their own. Hmm..... gun toting dragons.
* * *
Pyra bonded fire Aidan
Tera bonded earth Phaestus
Tyrus bonded platinum Kaleraith
Sabre bonded black Katana (Japanese sword)
Todd bonded variation Tagarok
Sara bonded shift Searaun
Korie bonded silver Mirflameze
Rynama bonded yellow Indefra
T'mars bonded yellow Lilith
Ahearn bonded gold Tetrak
Jinchu bonded bood Mortarius
Kkwrea bonded blend Sunamus
Vega bonded storm Risientith
Erian bonded light Briaket
Naire bonded dark Noirlan
Pazzo bonded sheep Baith
Skye bonded air Vulca
Growlnoa bonded spot Tigrosa
Dathius bonded wolf Norinaketh
Yelkin bonded gray fox Cygnosis
Kaltari bonded red fox Alantra
Kieoxa bonded opal Chrunocrus (draconic for 'song')