When the candidates were again called to the hatching grounds, it was not for the emergence of Dhogakith's hidden beauties, but rather the birthing of Golara's miniature masterpieces. If her eggs had ever been separated by sire, they were now scrambled completely, the round ones intermingled with the long oval ones mixed with the averagely shaped ones. There was, however, a surprise. Instead of the nine eggs everyone expected to see, there were ten. The largest was the one the black-winged queen had kept hidden the entire time, and the only one other than her to not be surprised by its presence was Dhogakith, who had been present before, during, and after the laying of the largest clutch since Arosambyth last graced the sands.
The sun had set completely by the time a hoarde of Novos stood around the larger-than-expected clutch. They were garbed in white vests over their everyday clothes or wore white scarves like fancy stoles draped over their shoulders, some with eyes gleaming with anticipation, some trembling from anxiety. It seemed that the anticipation had finally made a significant impression on those candidates who preferred the night - the last four vampires stood in rapt attention.
With a quiver and a quake, the first egg began to open and dark paws scrambled at the shell in high contrast. The silvery dragon broke from the shell with a headstrong finality, and surveyed the candidates with a critical eye. It was apparent that this bold young dragon was the son of Ka'rrak - there was no way to mistake the eyepieces and strong arm-wings that marked the Tris'hathian dragons apart from other breeds. Finally the male made his choice and stepped towards a young man whose experience with dragons was nonexistant until he met one remarkable bronze.
The silver sighed contentedly and looked up to meet Zerador's eye. I am Soesaraak.
The next egg to hatch had slowly turned itself in a circle before any cracks became visible. Once they had, the egg practically exploded in the dragonet's haste to emerge into the nighttime world. Shades of red and black moved fluidly across the shining hide of the young male, and when he unfurled all four of his wings, the colors shone brightly there as well. It was as if he was one of the wild colored offspring of the dragoness Jiyan… except…
His name is Ziranyraol. He is my son. Blaol said, proudly announcing his first child to hatch on Ryslen's sands. He will not bond today.
The third egg fell open as if it had been hinged, and a bright and dark dragon stared out at the world. It stood, revealing black-gold coloring like a Night, but very much not. Bright turquoise eyes blinked, and the slit-like pupils narrowed.
"Definitely a Spirit." The Firelancer observed vocally, and as the hatchling unfurled wings like storm clouds marked with bronze-gold lightning, it became clear to everyone else that this was Kajashaji's offspring.
With the supple grace of a feline, the hatchling moved towards the candidates, and looked up at a silvery-purple young man.
Keluhan, most interesting is your life. Speak my name and I will share mine with you.
The dragon-human hybrid blinked once at the dragon, confused by the presence of the feminine gold on the dragon's hide but the clearly masculine voice in his mind. "Nirzuraji." He said at last, and with sudden clarity of mind, realized just how lucky he was.
Another egg cracked, and as the pieces fell away, the blue head and shoulders of a dragon were exposed. He was not wild like Ziranyraol, nor did he have the budding horns of a spirit dragon… The hatchling climbed out and shook out his wings - he was a Night dragon, no doubt about it. Whose child was this?!
He is Blaol's, of course. Golara said smugly, leaning against her bond and mate.
The Night Blue made his way to the candidates, and was quick to choose the half-vampire Draskim. "Maubaraol?" the elf asked, and the blue nodded to confirm.
The next egg to crack open revealed a red-black beast, who slipped free of his shell and stood his ground, surveying the candidates. His wing-arms were strong, and his eyesight keen. When his eyes came to the vampire assassin Ekiron Kalamadea, they narrowed savagely, as if he had seen the enemy.
"Kihiniraak!" Mei-Lin called the beast to order. He turned to face her, and when their eyes locked, the RysHathian red had no doubt in his mind that she was the right one - she wad his lifebond.
The next egg opened smoothly, the shell falling away as though it were merely a cloak that the hatchling dropped. Bright copper and brilliant silver hide met the gaze of the onlookers, and the dragon may have been blinding had he stood in full sunlight. Turning his slit-pupiled eyes to the candidates, the Spirit dragon stretched to his full length before making a move towards the sun god Akhbar.
You have much to ponder, and I will be your constant companion. The copper male said, flooding his bond with sense of love and warmth unsurpassed by any other Akhbar had ever felt.
"What do you mean, Agroiraji?"
You will see…
Golara's largest egg had been rocking wildly for some time, and when the shell burst, fragments flew several feet, bouncing off of unhatched eggs and landing with a clatter in the remains of those that had hatched. In the midst of the debris lay two purple dragons, both sporting the short nub horns of the Spirit Dragons. Though twins were common enough at Ryslen in recent days, twin Spirits seemed to be highly irregular.
The larger of the two got to her feet first, throwing her long tail out for balance, showing off a white tip like the silver end her father sported. Her pinhead-sized scales glittered brightly, and the gold-copper lightning on her wings stood in contrast to the dark purple sails. She nuzzled her sister, and the smaller, lighter female got to her feet, blinking sand from her delicate eyes. Her scales were clouded white and lavender, and her wingsails and Ryslenesque crest were colored in a pastel sort of sunset - gold pink and lavender. She seemed more peaceful, while her dark sister was more determined. Quietly they turned to the candidates, and soon moved towards a pair of sisters - two girls who had boldly left home and traveled to the Cathair to further their cause. The darker one stood resolutely before Thouskeeldia, and the lighter nuzzled her sister Ciomorodelia.
I am Jarendajira. the first said to her bond.
Cimorodelia laughed. "That tickles, Unirandrajira!"
Two eggs on opposite sides of the circle fell open, the first in tiny fragments as though it melted, the second in large uneven pieces. Two Night Red dragons glared at each other, snarling and snapping - one the son of Blaol, the other the son of Ka'raak the Feral. Two candidates practically leapt out of the circle and into the space between the hatchlings. The snarling hatchlings circled left, and the candidates right, back to back in an unspoken and perhaps unrealized truce. The ordinary Night charged at Raem, and with lightning quick reflexes, the assassin Kalamadea tackled the beast.
"No, Kibaraol. This is not the time." The vampire said, chastising his bond for the ill-timed attack.
The wing-armed Night moved cautiously to Raem's side. I am Dyderaak.
The last egg cracked under the strain from the paws of the hatchling within, and a silvery dragon soon tumbled out into the sands. The tiny silver scales glittered gently, and the gold-white wings on the Spirit hatchling added to the cheerfulness of her arrival. She turned her eyes to a halfbreed whose coloration nearly matched her own. She walked carefully across the sand, avoiding sharp fragments of shell until she could reach out and touch Gagan with her silver paw. He looked down at her, and couldn't look away.
"Spirits often have healing magic…" Lani observed, "but she's too young to use it… what's she doing?"
Tiyanni laughed a little. "Probably just etching the moment into her permanent memory… Hatchlings are often quirky."
The katri shot the retired weyrwoman a look but said nothing.
"Maybe when you're grown up, Laemmijira…" Gagan said at last, and crouched down to wrap his arms around the bright hatchling.
Golara seemed smug. Nine of her offspring had made solid bonds, and the wild tenth would definitely go forth into the world and make an impression somewhere. They always did.