Winter was progressing at an alarming rate, and the eggs on the hatching sands were slowly hardening. Almost too slowly. Some worried that so many eggs on and in the soft red sands were just too many and they weren’t kept warm enough. Logical minds argued that if there were a problem, the experienced mothers on the sands would have said something. An unseasonably warm week had wreaked its havoc on the snowbanks of Ryslen, turning the winter wonderland into a sloppy wet muddy place. Many of the candidates - tiros - were reassigned from the “traditional” chores to keep the floors clean and dry in the major entryways. Some, if not all of them were pleased to be out of barracks cleaning duties. It seemed that a breath of fresh air was what everyone needed - especially the eggs. Shortly after the sun passed zenith, a harmonious rumble issued forth from the hatching grounds. The call had been anticipated for so long that half of Ryslen was quite startled and the other half... weren’t. At any rate, the hatching grounds were quickly filled but the hearts of the tiros were heavy - many of the eggs showed no sign of movement, and a few even seemed flaccid. A hush fell over the sands as two strong paws pushed through ivory shell - the first egg was hatching. Within heartbeats, a snowflake marked hatchling stood before them all. A bronze - the traditional if superstitious sign of a prosperous hatching - and not an ordinary one. Shades of bronze and brown swirled in unruly liquid patterns below glassy silver. The first hatchling of the third Flurry was a Wild Bronze! If this wasn’t an indication of what Ryslen was to expect, what was? The second egg broke apart as though smashed with violent force from within. A dark purple hatchling issued forth and as murmurs of “who will she choose?” echoed through the sands, the little dragon roared ferociously at them. The Dark Elf Cre’van found himself snarling. The hatchling looked at him with stormy eyes. “HIS name is Esdalta.” A purple male? It had happened before, but never before at Ryslen... Acora and the other Pink Pegasi looked to him with eager, jealous and proud expressions. Thank you Cre’van. Esdalta said, rubbing against his chosen. The elf smirked and led the way off the sands. In the fuss over the dragon’s gender, none seemed concerned over his slit-pupiled eyes or distinct ears. The third egg fell to pieces and a minty green hatchling stood before them. Her appearance startled many - her wings were practically bare and skeletal, with but one heavy finger. With no fanfare, the jackal-humanoid medic Idris came through the mess of eggs to the hatchling. She squatted down in the sands. “May I?” she asked softly, and the green moved closer to her in lieu of answering. Gentle healer’s hands swept over the sailless wingarms. “Feathers!” Idris suddenly exclaimed. “She’s fine! Dokarath’s wings are feathered!” The Jrezzrei blinked. Yes, Idris. I am Dokarath, and I have chosen you. Those of avian heritage and those who had experience with birds nodded in acceptance of this news. No hatchling bird would emerge from its shell with flight feathers. The next egg to open revealed a dark blue - sparkling with both snowflakes and stars. He moved more swiftly than the passage of a summer night to Loren, the Skaardian renegade. I am Brenaldeth. The celestial blue bespoke his chosen. Loren was almost swept away by the intensity of it all. Did Abrala know? I’m sure she does. The blue assured his bond, and with Idris and Dokarath, they exited the sands. In the midst of motionless eggs, one rocked sharply and fell open. The nub horns on the red and white hatchling stood out sharply, and his keen eyes sought out his chosen. You truly have a good heart Tierellion. I am honored to have you as my bond. The Lynx elf watched as the catlike Ryslenborn dragon walked smoothly towards him. So different from his hilldragon partner Aeveid... “The honor is mine Giokiraan.” A smallish egg broke open, revealing a blue cloudy dragon. He opened his wings for balance, showing the vibrant green tips on his white sails - colors echoed on his muzzle. Bright eyes sought out what appeared to be a young man with bluey-green hair. Lurtinn... the dragon said, approaching the excited tiro. “Hi Wogodezeith!” Lurtinn said cheerily. “This is going to be so much fun Eaztalire!” His tone turned to one of joyful surprise as he turned to his fellow Daffodil. Her eyes were locked with the rainbow faceted eyes of a silver-white hatchling with a greater variety of snowflakes on her hide than any others. “You’re so right Lurtinn. Her name is Neveriieth.” The most normal dragon of the clutch to make its appearance was a Light Blue. His snowflakes were unmistakable on his hide, like spots on a cat. Perhaps only one person noticed that - the Chenyaka Reffijeg. Can you think of more than spots? the hatchling queried. “You’d be surprised, Chenkenth.” Reffijeg said with the slightest of smirks. Another egg opened, and a bright green dragon - incredibly neon yellow-green - burst from her shell. Her belly armor and gemlike brilliance marked her as Haukeath and Taveth’s offspring, but one of the tiros didn’t care at all about her pedigree. “She is SO cute!” Osochan exclaimed excitedly. “She is...” The dragon looked at him and the Hyedhostar boy practically squealed. “Keffeave is SO CUTE!” Durashr rolled his eyes and looked away. Dark Amber Taveth had gazed upon his neon child, but soon his eyes turned to the tiny clutch he shared with his rainbowy mate. The cracks in the ivory shell grew slowly but steadily until the dragonet seemed able to step out effortlessly. Diamond-white paws stepped daintily but steadily on the soft sand, and as the young gem looked around, she opened her rainbowy wings. She was an ironically perfect blend of her parents’ coloration. A rainbow gem - she was clearly an Opal. Her step was steady as she walked towards a gem among the candidates - Nivorum. The dragon shifter knelt before the hatchling, a smile on her face. “Isilmirth.” A light green dragon bounced across the sands like a sugar-fed child to a tiro who seemed like a toy come to life. The dragon glomped onto Cuddles and the little critter squealed with delight. “I love you too Ulanisanith!” Jeyann tried to suppress her giggles, but the baby in her lap caught the mood and his innocent giggling had many people smiling. The next egg practically shattered - splintering and falling away like ice. The hatchling that stepped forward was clearly a Ryslen-Tris’hath hybrid. Silvery wingsails almost reflected the red stripes on his forearms, but the rest of him was snow white. Ready to go back to hiding out in the snow Safayu? The Whendrik laughed. “Not so quick, Pailuathak!” A second later, a rainbow burst from the clouds, or rather, a rainbowy RysHathian burst from a mottled egg. He looked up to his mother Rainbow White Hyperith then bounced over to one of the Daffodils - Yevrilx. The young dragon didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. “His name is Aezoemri.” If Rennitel or Durashr responded, it was lost amid exclamations of surprise, outrage and horror. There amidst the eggs stood a blood red two-headed beast. Hydra hatchlings had been seen here before - when Angeronath shelled at the second Flurry - but this Hydra was marked with Flurry Flakes. “Kashouix.” Ke’l murmured. One candidate lingered in the shadows, as far from the afternoon sunlight as she could get. Vampires were like that, but Syrana wasn’t about to miss the hatching. “Esol’abenthix!” She hissed, and the beasts four eyes were upon her. Obediently he trotted to her side and contentedly settled there to watch the rest of the hatching. That certainly would spawn some gossip - that and every other Ryslen hatching... The next egg to break did so under the watchful eyes of Riishinith. She was bright. Very bright. She was, in fact, orange. The tiny hatchling was smaller than a standard green, but her finny crest made her seem larger than she really was. The cream swirls on her underbelly and sails made some Earth riders and travelers giggle about dreamcicles. The hatchling looked around the sands, toddling around on her proportionately short legs. Between L’talia and G’taeo a small person squirmed. L’talia considered an admonishment, but the red-black flit on her shoulder cheeped, distracting her momentarily. With the speed that only intent children seemed to possess, Caké was away and halfway to the stairs. “Caké! Where do you think you’re going?! There’s a hydra down there!”
In the wake of the bonding of the youngest rider ever at Ryslen, a vibrantly colored dragon burst from her shell and instantly drew attention to herself. Her hide was black and white and fuschia? The young duowing settled her wings then looked carefully around her. Her choice was obvious to spectators as the almost neon pink dragon wove around eggs to one of the elf tiros. The elegant beast - bearing both light and dark colors - stopped before her chosen and awaited acknowledgement, which wasn’t long in coming. “Your name is Kabiliyt?” The elf queried. Yes, Acora. I am Kabiliyt, and I have chosen you. The next dragon to break shell was, amazingly, also pink. This one was a Light - pink shading to white hindquarters - overlain with a sheen of silver. Her strides were bold, if short, and her mind was made up. Blitz saw her coming and gave Serine a nudge. “What? Oh!” She exclaimed, and stepped forward. “Hello Eisleth!” Before Serine and her pink could leave, a pale egg snapped open and an icy blue-white hatchling tumbled forth. His hide shone like a pearl, and his wings extended from his forearms. The blue pearl RysHathian trotted towards Blitz. I am Obioleth. He said simply. We can go now. Another egg shuddered and fell open in response to the hatchlings exertions. Flurry snowflakes shone against a starry purple hide as the celestial dragon made her way to her chosen. An elf blinked and stepped forward. Yes Inosa, I am yours. I am Chaelinea. Though a handful of eggs were still rocking, a lull in the hatchings allowed for a short stretch and for those already bonded to exit. With a quiet sort of self-assurance, a small dragonet pushed out of its smooth ivory shell. Silvery wings were shaken open as the pure white RysHathian took in her first glimpse of the world. Haukeath and Fevirem exchanged smug glances, and the hatchling began to move towards the eager tiros. Rainbow eyes looked up to those which had shed many tears in the earliest days of her life. Greenness... The little white purred softly. Your great strength has shown through. I choose you. The young woman brushed a happy tear away from her blue eyes. “Fanyaramaremea. Welcome.” Laiquasse whispered, gathering the small dragon to her. The first white of the third Flurry -- the first white Ryslen-Tris’Hath hybrid. Would there be more?
The next egg to break revealed a wild silvery blue-black. He moved slowly, as if he were cold, or as if he was more powerful than he seemed - like a glacier perhaps? Cheveyo laughed. “What are you doing Zyrientan?” Perhaps the dragon smirked, but only the phoenix-shifter knew for certain. Another set of paws pushed apart a creamy colored egg. Many shades of red spots were set against white and the silvery eyepieces and wingsails marked him as a RysHathian even before he climbed out of his shell. “Hot.” Rennitel remarked idly, and found the hatchlings eyes upon him. Snow is cold? The bright red voice asked, unfurling flurry-flaked wings. “Yes, Goralth, it is...” That left Durashr as the only unbonded Daffodil, until the egg nearest him practically burst. The blue-marked white shook his head. Sorry I took so long. The Siamese apologized. “No problem Jomitto.” It was then that the wraithlike Serienth moved away from her eggs. One after the other they broke open, revealing two brilliantly feather-winged hatchlings. The first was shiny silver with the beginnings of red-orange plumage, and the second was sortof translucent pink-purple with talonlike forepaws like Pheodian had. The reddish male (the purplish one was clearly female) moved across the sands to... a girl. The dark-fire phoenix-shifter Enya. “Oxikaenan!” she exclaimed half in shock “You’re... you’ve Chosen me?” The silver phoenix-dragon nodded. My sister Miasolanen will not bond. You should tell them. “Oxikaenan says that his sister Miasolanen will not be choosing a bond.” Murmurs raced. How did she know both names? “I told you!” The fiery temper of the girl was invoked. “Oxikaenan told me!” The murmurs stopped after that, mostly anyway. The next egg split to reveal a silver-clouded white. “Reminds me of a snowstorm waiting to happen.” someone remarked,, and instantly Knife of Ice was on his feet. Too right. Hello Nybanooth. The silvery hatchling nuzzled up to the overheated icy wolf before the two headed out to dinner. Another egg fell open and the icy pink hatchling tipped out onto the sands. Niyaso began to giggle, and suddenly the hatchling was laughing too - in the elfs mind. I am Clydann. “And now all the Pink Pegasi have dragons!” Niyaso squealed. One more egg split, and with a yawn the rainbow-tiger striped white hatchling stepped forth. My name is Anlerinth, and there’s nothing more to see here. she said, wiping her face casually with a paw. And she was right - none of the other eggs were moving... yet. To be Continued… Many thanks to my Conspirators for their help in coloring images, to everyone for their continued patience, and to Frizzle for use of her bandwidth. :) --TyGryph Pickup Pages: Osochan, Idris, Serine, Lurtinn and Eaztalire
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