Days came and went at Ryslen, and the eggs on the hatching sands hardened imperceptibly as the moments passed by. When Tikiriath made it known that her clutch of seven would be hatching before the noonday meal, everyone was excited, but when Sigleth’s clutch of nine began that final approach to hatching not long after, the folk of Ryslen were ecstatic - except those who would be spending all morning preparing first meals for sixteen hungry dragonets.
Twenty one candidates in the sleeveless white robes that were more like vests than tunics stood on the red sands, torn between two clutches that the queens refused to intermingle. The leftmost sands held Tikiriath’s seven, and the central sands held Sigleth’s nine, while the right hand side held the precious offspring of Iridescent Saktishanatath and Light Brown Khalbalahath.
The first egg cracked - one of Tikiriath’s, which was upside-down. The blue fell over onto his back, and after righting himself, tried to shake the fine red grains from his hide. A murmur passed through those asembled - the newly hatched blue had headknobs, but did not have the sharp Ryslen crest. After a moment of not acknowledging the stares, the young dragon moved towards the candidates. He chose one of elven blood, who’s friend had been bowled over by the green Sylvath from Xiorayith’s brood. Liyito, I am Ekagoth. And thus the first impression was made.
The second egg to shatter was from Sigleth’s clutch, and the male’s arrival brought twice the noise from the assembled, even though the hatching did sport the expected decorations. This time, the color was the shocker, even though he had no headknobs to speak of. Vibrant red, a color not seen since the muted tones of the flurry, and he was angry. Llamri! He bellowed at the top of his range. “Hush, Aekeoth. Hush.” The young woman said, stepping forward to meet her dragon.
The third egg, also from Sigleth’s clutch, shattered much more violently, though the dragon within was much more calm and controlled than his sibling. The First Night Red stepped from his shell, and in a commanding tone, spake this to his rider, shaking shell bits from his knobless head. Aerlyas Ironeyes, you are no longer under her control - only the voice inside you dictates your actions. From here, the stars will guide us to greatness. I am Delcitath.
The fourth egg fell to pieces, revealing a green from Tikiriath’s clutch. Bold, and determined the young one stepped forward, fanning her jade wings to dry them. Schi, I am Isisorth.
The fifth egg, also from Tikiriath’s clutch split then too, and attention was drawn away from Isisorth to the new blue, who was crestless, yet not knobless -- identical to Liyito’s blue. He slipped up beside his chosen, the trader Gido. “Switamth... “
The sixth egg, a decidedly large one amidst Sigleth’s clutch split decisively, and from it stepped a knobless beauty. Spun gold wings thrown open wide, she defiantly charged her chosen to step forward and make herself known - knives and leather or no. Xira; I am Agcaniyth.
The seventh egg, a small yet rapidly rocking specimen from Tikiriath’s clutch drew the attention of the greenest candidate Ryslen had seen in some time. In an energetic burst, the Night Green blasted forth, and Madison - newly restored to health thanks to Ryslen’s fine team of healers - was there to catch her. “Careful Razzath - you wouldn’t want to crash like I did.” You’ll never crash again, Madison. her dragon replied happily.
The eighth egg in the center sands where Sigleth yet lay burst open in a rush. From it came a second Night Red, and he slunk across the sands, glaring at the back of one candidate who unfortunatlely was facing the wrong clutch at that point in time. “Don’t you dare, Kentrenith.” Vale said in low quiet tones. The Night Red froze, then lunged, toppling his rider into the soft and hot red sands.
The ninth egg to hatch was another of Tikiriath’s, and from it, a Night of a coloring only seen once before on Ryslen’s sands. The purple dragoness moved gracefully across the sands to her chosen, the Znorlian Zarienne. I am Kelesquenth. I am sorry you lost the Kesseldant, but we will be flying together from now on.
The tenth egg - one of Sigleth’s - hatched then, not caring in the least about the Night Purple’s arrival. The brown rolled out onto the sandsd, and lay there, sprawled on his belly, just watching. Join me, Rantoro. The brown said, and the Raylommian Gryphonshifter did just that, and sat down beside his winged bond in the warm sands.
The eleventh egg shattered in the wake of the brown’s impression, and bugled shrilly as she stood there wet, calling a large portion of the audience’s attention to her. Her hatching left one egg in Tikiriath’s clutch. “Jybarith!” Leen exclaimed, half in admonishment, and half in surprise that the emerald beauty was hers.
The twelfth egg to hatch moved effortlessly from light to dark as the cream colored shell fell away to reveal a night brown. With determination, he moved to one side, where a human-looking, but not human candidate watched something happening that he’d never dreamed of. It’s real, Zanefar... I am Isunarth.
The thirteenth egg, and the last of Tikiriath’s clutch, not knowing or caring of the superstition once held by that number opened in an unobtrusive manner, and the Night Green within moved quietly and decisively. Murmurs of awe at the sheer size of her were not unnoticed, but simply not responded to. Kego... It came in a low whisper. Kego... “Tistorialth...?” the boy replied, eyes wide. Yes, ridermine. I am your Tistorialth.
The remaining candidates turned towards Sigleth’s clutch in the central sands, as there would be no more hatching from Tikirath’s mound.
The fourteenth egg shivered with it’s occupants exertions, and finally shattered, revealing a dark, but not night, brown, like Kitlelith had done, this brown sprawled out in the sands, exhausted. “Don’t worry Atiopynth, it’ll get easier.” Kidar said under his breath. A candidate near him gave him a push. “He’s yours!” that candidate hissed, pushing the feline out towards the brown, who got to his feet and happily greeted his furry bond.
The fifteenth egg split, and a red dragon stepped out, cautiously and curiously. Neekonjee! he called, and the boy responded in surprise, “Ryuujith!”
That left one egg, and very few candidates. Six to be exact. The five who would walk away would not be disappointed in the long run, though they might feel let down today. The fifth - had a growing feeling in the pit of his stomach as that last egg rocked its way towards birth. 2/3 red demon, Chaos never exactly felt he belonged here as a candidate, but Tiyanni herself had brought him here from Rayllom, and he oddly enough, felt he should honor her by standing still, though he’d rather be storming out. Storming sounds like a good idea, Chaos. A deep dark voice said directly into his skull even as the spectators were awed by the appearance of a Night Bronze. I am... “Diamadenth.” Chaos finished for him, naming his bond.
The hatching was finished, and though two thirds of the sands were now empty, it would not be long before other eggs would take the places vacated by the new hatchlings.