Hatching! Finally! Sorry for the long wait. Sept 22, 2005.
The Healing Den’s crowded sands were bright with light and festive decorations. Baeris, Kalkin, and the staff of the Healing Den were all busy with preparations. The five females on the sands carefully paced about, all having warned that their eggs were going to be hatching shortly.
When a dragon as experienced as Myrah’Care said they were on their way, Baeris took it to mean ‘now’. She’d hosted so many of these big events that even the Master Healer could see the eggs were almost shattering as the dragons crooned. Some were shaking, some rocking, but generally they were all apparently ready to hatch. Ready enough to call all the attendants, candidates, chosen, judged – whatever they wanted to call themselves these days.
After the disasters that had befallen the Warren, Baeris wanted to help Mystic feel a bit better. The child in his protected chambers was living proof that Mystic and Aaron were yet the proud bearers of life: just like their dragons, Myrah long having been sterile.
The eggs on the sands were a trumph. Long lost dragons having come from the corners of the Nexus for the flight not so long ago, producing what might be called the start of an entirely new generation of pureblooded Geperna. Baeris knew better than to think Blakoreth was true Geperna, but he was more than close enough – and perhaps would supply genetics needed to support the breed. After all, there was a reason why the pair stayed together all this time.
The assortment of candidates who had come to this big clutch were… quite odd. From Zekirans to ghostly earthlings, aliens and royalty… A proper mix, Baeris thought. Certainly a mix that would ensure these hatchlings would get the best variety to choose from.
Before the eggs had hardened properly, of course, at least one egg went missing, and Myrah’Care was distressed about it as much then as now. While she held her tongue in most conversations with the dragons there at the sands, everyone knew that it was on her mind: she kept turning and turning her eggs, poking her long silver nose around to see if it had merely rolled away. Of course it had not – but she, nor anyone else – knew that. Only Kalkin had a pang of weird premonition – was that the remnants of a nightmare or just lack of sleep? Or…
Gathered among the onlookers were many ‘local’ types, hunters and farmers, people who had never seen a dragon hatching before – and probably never would, for the Healing Den was perched in such an isolated spot in the Dragon Tooth Mountains that only a few people even knew that it had come. The dragons flight not long before had been the only tipoff that there was indeed something going on, so some of the supply caravaneers and traders who came through this particular pass would get the event of a lifetime today.
Baeris thanked everyone for coming, quietly milling around each group of arrivals. She kept her eye on the candidates, not all of them were of the kind-nice-sweet variety, and that was typical. If they caused trouble, as so many had before them, they’d be carefully guarded and escorted away once they bonded, if they did so. If not? Well – out on their ear, naturally.
A grin grew on Baeris’ lips when she thought of the few who had really ever been tossed out physically. Tenken, Shy… Both of them she knew were out there being pests – though she’d been told by several people that Tenken really had mellowed out in the meantime and had become the inadvertant organizer of a dungeon crawl… Good for him. It suited the little assassin.
When there was a piercing cry from one of the egg-mothers, one of sheer joy, everyone looked up. How could you tell the difference between a cry of anger and joy when the owner of the voice is a sixty foot long dragon? Easy: when there was a cracked-open egg below her cowling wings. Virah’Care, the green sister to Myrah, almost giggled with joy at the sight of her first ever hatchling.
A green female, chubby and healthy looking, hiccuped and started looking around. The young mage-in-training Chaillina was the one she spotted, and happily trotted over to the dark-haired girl. “Chaiaki’Virh is my name, we will go home but you have to feed me first…”
Chuckling, the girl obliged. Very quickly after the first choosing had been made, it looked as though another handful of eggs scattered around the sands had hatched! Gweai’Urdi’s large-sized egg hat hatched into a sturdy brown male, who scanned the young people attending with an intelligent eye.
He approached with confidence the red-headed girl from Carramba High School, Tami, and nudged her chest. He would be a large dragon indeed. “I am Taloi’Gwmi, Tami. We will find our place with your friends. Stop staring at my chosen!” He turned to glare at another dragonet, a male white who had come by to investigate, but shortly backed off.
The white from Thnai’Irkr’s clutch, the first egg to finally open from the agitated Myrah’Care’s nest was a gold female, a second from that clutch showed off a green male, while one from Jauah’Kyil’s nest broke and revealed a red male. They scattered around, once the brown had been satisfied that he’d been seen by the right people.
The white approached a girl, one whose scars and haunted eyes showed that she’d lived way too hard all her short life. However, it was not the girl that the dragonet was staring at. The young woman glanced to the side, just over her shoulder, and then got a crazy-happy smile on her face.
“Adrien!! He’s looking at you! He can see you!?” She shrieked. It was not the very first confirmation that she wasn’t totally insane, that here in the Healing Den a lot of people could see ‘her ghosts’. But they all admitted they were tied to Hallie in a very deep way. She perhaps was their anchor, but now?
Now what?
The white dragon looked at the ghostly French-speaking man and pawed at the air where he was not quite standing. “That will take getting used to,” the male said. “I am Adrur’Thvi, Adrien, perhaps we will find a way to get you to feed me…”
I am positive we will find a way, Adrur… the ghost said, running chills up a few of the nearby candidates.
Meanwhile the gold female and her green male hatch-mate from Myrah’s nest had conferred together it seemed for a moment, and then split up. They both headed toward pairs of siblings, though quite different from one another indeed.
The gold female sat down before Kin, whose eyes grew wide. It wasn’t her first sponsorling – but this might have been the first true choosing that the fox kin would have. “Kineo’Mybl,” the gold announced simply. What would her mistress have to say about this?
Why wasn’t Drakiera here, anyway? For a Geperna hatching? Was it really that bad? Their ‘mother’ Lady Drakiera was such a contradiction. But surely she would … be proud? Now?
The green male went his way around legs and people and found a person with more legs than usual. The Zekiran immortal, Secret, standing with her wings poised and her beaky head looking curiously at the little hatchling.
“I want food,” said the male. “I am Seneo’Mybl.”
“Then we’ll get you fed!” Secret cheered, and her brother Seeker smiled with his own beak. (… yeah, that’s a feat.)
Lastly the red male moved to … Hallie. After having watched his white aery-brother find a ghost near her, he knew that something would come of waiting for his own. It wasn’t long before Hallie got a strange sick look on her face. She announced for the people around her, “Maizh’Jach has… chosen Marcus.”
Proudly looking on, the red wandered off – was the violent ghost following him? Who could say? Marcus appeared only when he really felt like it. The air of mystery, and certainly the level of anger and aggression in the ghostly man were what attracted a red to his side.
Baeris made sure that there was meat and water for the hatchlings, and some munchies for those watching the hatching as well. While she was sampling a shrimp-coctail-dish, two more eggs broke loudly. Both from Myrah’Care’s, which she noticed made the dam happier. Still Myrah looked for her lost egg. The two hatchlings crooned and chirped, trying out their lungs for the first time. Then, they set about finding their choices.
The first, a stunningly beautiful and exceedingly rare White-Gold female, made her way to the exotic looking princelet, Siral E-oro. She layed her head down on his hand, when he tentatively extended it. They looked beautiful together, Baeris thought. Coaxing out the name Sirneo’Mybl from the prince before they left the sands, Baeris wondered how his servant-girl would fare.
The other egg was left behind showing a male silver, as dignified as his dam usually was. He strode with care around the other eggs and seemed to be examining everyone. Then, he found the group of mercenaries, and flared his short wings. “I am Zeneo’Mybl, Zeren. Do you think your god-parents will like me?”
The scarred man pondered it for a moment, wondering if they weren’t already watching. His friends and team mates cheered as loudly as the rest of the audience.
Five more eggs shattered, A brown female from Virah’s clutch, along with a green female, a blue and an orange, both females from Jauah’s, and a silver male from Myrah’s nest.
Baeris leaned over to Mystic, asking, “Did someone do magic to those eggs? Two silvers and a gold so far?”
Mystic, almost bursting from pride, shook her head. “Perhaps it was just… time.”
Indeed. For shortly, the hatchlings began to find their way to the choices lining the sands. No one rushed up to interrupt them, the dragonets would do their choosing. Or they would not, it was hard to say. There were still eggs on the sands that had hardly moved in the time they’d been on the hot sands, though they might be moved by their dam they didn’t live on their own.
The brown walked gently toward the weaver, Borana. “I do not think you are boring, you look very colorful to me. I am Boaki’Virh.”
Tears in her eyes, Borana succombed to the emotion of the whole ordeal of her life, now satisfied by this one single moment.
Not to be outdone, the female blue went to one of the siblings that Zeren worked with. She looked Tirnavor over and decided that he’d be best for her. He announced, “This is Tiizh’Jach!” It was a surprise to all his companions that he didn’t say much more than that!
The silver male of Myrah’s nest, unsurprising to some in the audience, made his way toward the other of the fox-shifters, Gin. Gin noticed that his sister hadn’t left the sands yet, though her gold dragonet had now finished her first meal. “Are you sure Gineo?”
“Very sure, my friend. You are my choice. We should join my sister and yours.” Gineo’Mybl had chosen!
Virah’Care’s green daughter had found one of the young mage students, Renae, to her liking. The seer smiled widely and announced Reaki’Virh was her name. Her friends were pretty happy – this meant they all might stand a chance!
While they were all aplauding, however, another of their group was approached by the bright orange hatchling. Pink-haired healer Angelique suddenly found herself looking into the eyes of the hammy dragoness, who had nudged her way past everyone.
“Wait, wait – Anizh’Jach!” She said, laughing, “that tickles!” The dragonet had borne her to the ground and was now pushing her toward the food by means of nudging her armpit or ribcage.
“Well they’ll be easy to spot in a rave now,” muttered one of their group with a grin.
As the laughter died down, another trio of eggs shattered. One of Thnai’Irkr’s, a bold red, along with two more from Virah’s large nest. It was no surprise that the red shoved by his aery-mates and moved to the group of young mages.
“You!” He barked, and the green-haired Chase looked up sharply. “Yes, you!”
“What do you want, Chrur?” Chase said, “oooh. Fine. Sure.” Without another word, the pain-psionic went with Chrur’Thvi to the food dishes.
“Oh big surprise there,” said Angelique when he got there.
The purple male and green female from Virah’s nest had found their own choices among the crowd. The purple, Seaki’Virh, chose the centaur-flier Zekiran, Seeker, while the green gently slid up to the elfin Tiuri and announced herself as Tiaki’Virh.
At this point a number of eggs were shaking, but only one broke open. The black male that walked toward Tempest needed no prodding to head to the fresh meat, after the mage asserted his name was Teloi’Gwmi.
Baeris was growing concerned, there were fewer eggs than she’d thought. They were halfway or so through the candidates, and while there were many eggs it was known that Virah’s choice was a Dragon Master, and she correctly guessed that a few of the people here would be chosen by more than one dragon. That, and there were still eggs that hadn’t moved, and one which appeared empty though Baeris had no recollection of where the inhabitant had gone.
Breaking her from those thoughts were another trio of eggs that shattered – another Silver from Myrah’s nest, a purple from Virah’s and a a purple from Gweai’s sands. They circled around their broken shells, and found their way toward the candidates.
“At least none have gone Wyld,” Mystic said, there was such a tremble in her voice that Baeris put her hand onto her friend’s shoulder. “What would we do then?”
“It’s all right,” Baeris assured her. “See? There’s another choice made.” Baeris paused, squinting, “sort of,” she added with a grin.
The silver female had trotted up to the ghost-woman, Alda Wilheim. Stronger than some, the former teacher almost achieved a bit of tangibility before fading away into a spectrum that only her dragoness could see. Hallie again announced with pride, “Alneo’Mybl has chosen Alda!”
The pair of purples met, rubbed noses, and split again. The one from Virah’s nest went toward the black-haired young healer, Chante. “You’ll be perfect, Chaki’Virh!” Chante laughed.
While the other headed toward the lovely grape elemental, Jovich. She pawed the ground, almost looking like she was digging for something. Jovich laughed and waved her hand. Even here in this foreign place that drifted the Nexus, life could spring easily enough – and a sprig of grape-vine came through the ground there.
“Joloi’Gwmi would like to say, you should plant that outside somewhere, it’ll need sunlight.” Jovich and her purple danced off – after hugging her friend Milla and promising her that she’d be chosen.
While there were eggs shaking, there were also people moving around now. Restroom break anyone? Baeris chuckled and Mystic and she shared a brief reminisce about having to go to the restroom about every eight minutes while pregnant…
A few people were still out of their seats when a foursome of eggs broke. The first was a bronze male, stunning, from Myrah’s nest. Even Mystic and Aaron gasped at that one. Baeris looked over at Blakoreth and noticed Aaron was mentally high-fiving the dragon. A blue male of Jauah’s nest, then yet another silver from Myrah’s nest! Finally a third from that nest, a blue that looked for all the world just like his daddy.
The bronze wasted no time. He stood before Hallie.
She stood there looking around, only Rachael was left near her – the other ghosts had been chosen. She was sure that he’d move away but the slow realization came to Hallie’s mind, along with a powerful, warm, voice so unlike those ghostly ones that she was used to hearing.
I am Haneo’Mybl, he announced. I respect your power, my chosen. I am certain there will be more use for it in the future.
She gasped, and let tears of joy run down her cheeks. Bronzes were warriors, she had learned: but then again she realized so was she. Of a very different sort, but it was clear that this dragon would have no other than she.
While the group of already-chosen stood around chomping on their own snacks and watching their new dragons eat themselves silly, they were a bit surprised when the blue male came up to Kin.
She blinked, unsure of what to say or do. Finally her brother elbowed her in the side. “He’s hungry!”
“Well I can see that,” she retorted. “But … I’m already Chosen!”
“That is not a problem,” the blue replied, “I am Kiizh’Jach, and I have already discussed it with Kineo.”
“Well in that case…” Kin wasn’t at all sure what to make of this. She? A dragon master? After having been told by her Lady they were hardly fit for one?
It almost surprised everyone that the silver female walked toward Kessa – after all, with her friend Chansua’s blue Chaua’Kyil having sired eggs on the sands, wouldn’t she be Chosen by one of his? But no – it looked like the silver wasn’t going to let anyone butt in on her choice!
“Keneo’Mybl,” she announced, “And you will introduce me to your friends.”
“When we’re all together again,” Kessa promised.
The blue male slunk up to Delano. “I want to see your weather magic,” said the dragonet. Surprised, the redhead shook his head, “how about outside, Deneo'Mybl?” The blue hatchling nodded and they went to their friends, half of whom had now-sleeping dragons beside them.
As another four eggs shattered, bringing shouts of surprise to a couple who were standing too near their shells, Mystic complained to Baeris, “she’s still going on about the egg. What do you think has happened?”
“As though you haven’t asked me that ninteen times today?” Baeris said. “Tell her to be proud of that – look at that, seven metallics and a pernese blue for a sire. I swear, Mystic, someone’s used magic on those eggs.”
“It wasn’t me,” the red mage muttered, with half a worried grin.
The eggs that broke didn’t come from Myrah’s clutch this time, though. One from Gweai’s, Jauah’s, and two from Thnai’s. The green male that shot out of his shell in Gweai’s nest landed all but backwards on the ground next to Sorthion, who laughed loudly.
“Soloi’Gwmi, hardly a graceful entrance.” It was the first time anyone in his group had seen him quite so animated.
The next to choose went up to the dream elemental Milla. A white male, clearly his father Viull’Ryxa’s, protectively keeping himself between her and the broken shells on the sands. She caught up with her friend Jovich and told everyone, “this is Mirur’Thvi, he’s chosen me!” She clapped her hands, excited and positive that this was in fact still only one of her own dreams…
It was a bit of a surprise to the Zekiran Seeker that he felt a second mind near his. As a powerful psionic he knew that the blue would want to remain with him and his other bond, and he relayed that she was named Seizh’Jach.
The last thing that Borana expected this day was the nudge of a warm muzzle in her hand – when she was already busy watching Boaki eat. Stunned, she looked down and saw a white head, with big eyes glimmering at her with pleasure.
“You did not think yourself good enough for one dragon,” he said, “but I think you are good enough for two. I am now Borur’Thvi, and I choose you.”
For the second time that day Borana broke down in tears – and Baeris herself walked up to calm her. She’d almost forgotten the note that had been sent with Borana: that she was able to sense dragonspeak, highly telepathic. She’d need a lot of training to keep two dragonets under control.
A number of the candidates standing around were starting to look a little nervous – as they always did when their numbers were dwindling. Still there were more eggs than people, which gave them hope.
One that was quite nervous to stand among all these people was Heysa E-Ano, of the same exotic species as the prince she served, only much lower in status. She appeared beautiful to most humans and humanoids – yet when complimented was always so shy and demure, denying any such beauty. She could not deny the words of her new blue dragoness, who said, “of course you’re beautiful, as I am! I am Herur’Thvi, and I can eat all by myself, you can just relax.”
Used to serving in whatever capacity she was required, Heysa was confounded – but relieved as well. Now, at least, she had something faintly in common with her beautiful prince!
Another that was almost tired of it, was the Lironess Siltek. Her mate had been bonded for ages. Why couldn’t she swing just one? Standing here made her painfully aware that she was older than most of the candidates… Well, that couldn’t be said of the ghosts and the Zekirans now could it? While her mind wandered, something that a warrior like herself should be chastised for doing when she ought to be paying attention, a bronze female snuck up on her from Myrah’s nest. Where else would a bronze have come from? Siltek was promptly pounced upon, laid out on the warm sands most ungracefully.
She didn’t budge – because what had floored her the most was the voice in her mind. I am yours, Siltek. I am Sineo’Mybl.
She twisted around on the sand, and the dragonet lifted her paws to allow her to turn over. Siltek drew her strong, hard fingers over the supple hatchling’s bronzed skin. “You’re beautiful.”
“And yours,” she added with a friendly lick.
That wasn’t it for the bronzes though – and when Baeris got back to her seat Mystic proudly announced, “Cai down there was just chosen by bronze Caneo’Mybl,” she pointed. “That ought to even things out,” she added. “No one takes women warriors seriously.”
Baeris rolled her eyes. “Hardly true.”
Thinking they were done, Kin and Gin and the trio of dragonets were about to slip away. But a purple stopped them – standing resolutely in their way and lifting herself up to stand eye to eye with Gin. “What does it take to get seen around here?” The purple asked.
“Well, that’s a good start, Giloi’Gwmi,” Gin announced with pride. Now they were both paired with two – now, they had enough legs to stand on. Would they confront their Lady? Who knew.
The audience was cheering loudly again as a batch more eggs, some of the last on the sands now, pried themselves open. Begging for attention from the metal-mage Piotrych was a male silver. The man’s flitters dove around the dragon’s head and finally Piotrych waved them away.
“Come on then, Pineo’Mybl. I’ll have to show you my workspace later.”
As it seemed to be a day of twins and dragons, an orange female from Thnai’s clutch approached Secret, the Zekiran. With a wave of her wings, the orange tried to fly up to greet her new chosen. But she was just a hatchling, it was highly unlikely that she’d be able to prevent herself from falling over backwards, let alone lift into the air. So Secret picked up the new hatchling and announced, “she is Serur’Thvi! She’ll be coming back to Planet Twenty with us!”
The last of Jauah’s eggs (the ones that would hatch anyway) had broken and an orange came from that egg as well. The hatchling sprang upon Vendrian, making him laugh loudly. “Well you’ll get me into even more trouble, Veizh’Jach!”
A beautiful gold male – the last visible egg from Myrah’Care’s clutch – hatched. While Myrah was clearly proud of this, she was also still so torn. Where was her other egg? She had no dead eggs like the blue and red did, hers went missing.
Kalkin perked up when the gold began to creel unhappily. He knew that sound, it was one that Sixth used to call him when something was wrong. Apparently, what was wrong with this hatchling, was that Vaero wasn’t there to help him. With a private smile, Kalkin knew that he’d done the right thing in letting Naeodin’s grandson in here with Shy. Baeris never quite found out – though she had soundly thrashed the elusive Shy when he’d brought Milla and Jovich and got caught.
Vaero – or Luctus Mors, his given name – smiled with abandon at the lovely gold. “Vaneo’Mybl,” he pronounced. So it would be Vaero as his true name then? It was hardly uncommon for earth families to name their sons the same as their fathers, but this was a bit… odd.
With the excitement hardly dying in her mind, Siltek kept helping Sineo to her food. But then abruptly, Sineo’ turned and barked three times, echoed by two hoarse chirps from the sands. The bronze female turned tail and ran back to the shells and started searching among them.
“Oh you gotta be kidding me,” Siltek groaned. If one listened closely to the laughter in the audience, Mystic’s would be among the voices. “Okay, okay, who have we got?”
The bronze came up for air with a green male in tow. He was of Virah’s nest, and announced to the world as Siaki’Virh.
A purple female was left on the sands trying to pick her way through the wrecks of shells. Without pause she stepped, but almost lost her balance on the tottering half-shell that she’d tumbled into. A strange, unearthly giggling filled everyone’s ears, and a voice without form. “That was funny – I hope you’re not hurt!”
The voice of a young girl, once Rachael was terrified but now, joined in her afterlife by a dragonet named Raloi’Gwmi.
The batch of ghosts that Hallie had befriended, along with herself the very physical host at times, now all had bonded quite real dragons.
Wasn’t that the craziest thing they’d ever heard?
As only a couple eggs were left anywhere, those moving around the sands to get to the meat had all but vanished into their safe halls and the hatchling barracks. Still, two dragonets were standing among the eggs and one gently pawed at the cold unbroken one next to her.
A blue male nudged the black female away from the dead egg, and toward the few people still standing around expecting to be chosen. Well, to the one, because the blue had another person in mind: Chaillina. “I am Chairur’Thvi,” he told her, surprising her when she’d almost gotten to the hallway.
“Aki, meet Rur,” she said, showing off the green that she’d been chosen by earlier to her new bond. They grabbed a bowl of meat and kept heading out.
The last one, the black, stood rather irately in front of a woman who stood only a little taller than a child herself. It seemed like a strange pairing, the woman was shock white and platinum blond, and here was a darkly black dragon?
But then all one had to do to see where the connection would be, is ask Fleetfoot to direct the icy blast of cold water that this dragon, Flloi'Gwmi, would eventually produce – she was as deadly as she was pale.
With the hatching of the last egg, a finality had settled over the crowd. It was a happy, satisfied sort of finality, filled with the promise these young dragonets offered. Records keepers were hastily scribbling down the last few names of the newly bonded, and adding a writer’s flourish to the events witnessed. There was a general consensus that this had been a good hatching as the crowds began to pick their way down to the feeding grounds, and no one cared to remember the one egg that had been missed, nor the few that had either not hatched, or perhaps that the count between eggs and hatchlings was a bit off…
Myrah’Care was still staring at the carved entranceway, as if hoping that at any second her lost hatchling would stumble into the Sands, crying that he or she had been misplaced and demanding to meet his or her bond. It was such a feverent hope that the silven dam didn’t notice the slight figure that came to stand beside her head, utterly silent until the mother’s vigil had ended.
We’ve searched everywhere, Myrah. Mystic’s soft tones flitted through her bond’s mind.
I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
Come, let’s go look in on your other children. There was a soft sigh of consent from Myrah’Care, and Mystic took that as her cue to leave. It would take Myrah’Care time to recover from the loss of one hatchling in her first clutch, but with the promise of future clutches, she had no doubt that the wound would heal. Blakoreth was there to comfort her, nuzzling her gently as she got to her feet and prepared to follow the other dams out. Satisfied that her bond would be alright, Mystic looked back into the crowd for her own mate. She was so intent on finding her husband above the numerous heads all going in the same direction that she didn’t immediately see what started the panic.
There was a shrill, piercing scream from somewhere near the bottom of the stands, and soon the entire cavern rang with a hundred matching voices. Dragons shrieked outrage as they backed, like cornered animals, back into the nests. They hissed at a black shadow that seemed to suck up every ounce of light in the whole of the Healing Den as it loomed into the front entrance. What had once been an organized march downwards suddenly became a chaotic jumble of bodies heaving like a stormy sea against the rocky cage that the walls had become. Those near the bottom ran upwards, those near the top ran down, towards the nearest exit. Yet as the first surge of relieved inhabitants reached an open passageway, they were filled with a new horror. A blast of fire seared the rock above their heads and caused a small avalanche into the opening. Other blasts echoed around the cavern until the crowd was herded like a flock of sheep back to their seats. Mystic looked up sharply as a chill, sibilant laugh joined in with the shrieks and screams, echoed by twenty-nine identical voices. A cold fear gripped her body and gave her a surge of strength to push past the panicking crowd, back to the sheer drop overlooking the Sands. Myrah’Care was laying down again, though the action had been forced by Blakoreth as he lunged in front of her to defend her from the horror in the entrance. Standing over their heads, a drop of crimson blood against the stony background of the cavern, she looked down at a man she had hoped never to see again.
He stood framed in the pale light flickering down from the electric sign over the Sands entrance, thirty heads weaving and gurgling amusedly as he stared at the havoc his mere presence caused, and by his wickedly curved talons stood a black enrobed figure who bore the mage’s scathing glare with all the pleasantness of a long-lost friend. Toth was flicking his many tongues into the air, tasting the fear that wafted off the people of the Healing Den in waves. He didn’t cross further than the thresh hold of the Sands, but such wasn’t necessary as no one seemed to want to approach the ancient Chaos hydra. Being a beast of more than a hundred feet in length, there was enough of him to block out the better part of the entranceway, and what wasn’t blocked by his bulk was guarded by the swish of his three massive, scarred tails and the weaving of his thirty heads, each screeching profanities at the on lookers. Krent was laughing with a jovial air, as if he had just walked into a festival instead of horror-stricken crowd. He wore his traditional black armour and black cape, black hair trimmed neatly and tied back by a black velvet ribbon for this monumentous occasion. The only light thing about him was his skin, and what little could be seen of his face was craggy and ghostly pale. His eyes, like his soul, were pitch black.
”Bravo! Bravo!” The man bellowed in a deep, ominous voice that cut through the murmuring that were left over once the crowd had regained a safe distance from the beast in whose shadow he stood. It was as if they had never moved from the seats they had occupied throughout the hatching, except now everyone was crushed together like frightened mice. The man grinned a sadistic grin, and the thirty headed hydra behind him gurgled appreciatively. “Quite an amazing show, wouldn’t you say? Though I’ve never been witness to a dragon hatching before so I really have nothing to compare it to.”
”What,” Mystic hissed in the most menacing voice she had ever attained, “are you doing here?” It was a wonder her voice carried so far when she felt her lungs would burst from the rage bubbling up inside, but the instant it was known that the two opponents knew each other, a hush had fallen.
”What the hell’s going on?” Baeris hissed to anyone who was listening. Aaron happened to be the closest person, and the only one with knowledge of the situation. They were pressed together against the back wall, barely able to see the back of Mystic’s cloak over the heads of everyone else. Aaron had the instinctive urge to draw his sword, but he’d more likely skewer himself than one of the hydra’s heads in this tight spot. Instead, he leaned closer to Baeris and whispered in her ear.
”That’s Krent, Joined of Toth and leader of the hydras. They escaped the day Mystic had the baby. That’s why I had to leave. I thought they’d take time to regroup and organize their numbers, but it seems they had other plans. Don’t worry, Mystic and I can take care of this.”
Baeris cast him a look that said ‘don’t worry’ was a stupid thing to say, but he wasn’t looking. Aaron was trying to find a way to get them through the crowd, over to where Mystic stood unprotected.
”Isn’t it obvious?” Krent purred in his sweetest boom, the manic grin still plastered to his face. All that could be seen of it beneath his coal black mustache and beard was a faint, white glow from his teeth. “My son needs to have his name added to the records, you know.” There was such a sickeningly sweet tone to his voice that half the crowd was struck with chills. He waved a single, gauntleted hand at the shadows of the cavern with a flourish, beckoning forth a yet unseen ally. Those nearby tensed expectantly, but when the two smallish shadows stepped forward no one moved. Myrah’Care screamed.
YOU STOLE HIM! YOU STOLE MY CHILD! The silven dragoness shrieked at the top of her lungs, using her vocal cords to keep up a continuous, high-pitched wail. Her body trashed as if in the throes of death, and her jaws gaped as if attempting to swallow hydra, rider, and rider’s son whole. She would have surged to her feet and done just that, only Blakoreth bodily restrained her by wrapping his claws around her shoulders. Though his eyes burned with hell’s fury, he knew that Toth was just waiting for a chance to blast them both to bits.
”Stole? That’s far too harsh.” Krent simpered once the ringing in his ears had died down slightly. He wondered briefly if anyone had heard him, for most of his audience had the look of recent deafness about them as well. Nevertheless, he draped one arm around his son’s shoulders, though the act only served to conceal Bane even more, and grinned a toothy grin up at the Red Mage. “I would like to introduce you to my son, Bane, and his new bond, Baneo’Mybl.”
Again Myrah’Care shrieked, a silvery froth beginning to form at the edges of her mouth. Bond? Never! I will not allow it!
”I don’t think you have a choice!” Krent laughed mirthfully. He then turned a benign smile on the young mirror of himself caught in his shadow. “Isn’t that right, Bane?”
“Baneo’Mybl has Chosen me. He says he will have no other.” The monotonous, sweet pitch of the hydra heir fell into a dead silence in which not even a fly dared breathe. There was no rebuttal to the youth’s claim, for the red dragonet sitting at his feet was staring at his bonded with a familiar look; a look none of them could deny. It was the look of a dragon who had made his one and only Choice.
”Ah, but there is one more thing I came here for. One thing in particular. Can you name it, mage?” Krent’s smile thinned out into a line as he looked with maddened eyes up at the cloaked and hooded figure of his once jailor. Beneath the shadows of her cowl, Mystic smirked.
”I will not fight you here, Krent.” She returned in a ringing voice. Her proud defiance was briefly disturbed as someone jostled her from behind. She daren’t look behind her, for to break her stare with Krent would give him a small victory. The figure behind her stood bare inches from her back, breathing down her neck with heavy, rage-filled breaths.
”If you don’t, I’ll let Toth have a little fun.” Krent stepped back, as if making way for the fearsome hydra. There was an eager glint to Toth’s red eyes, as if he would like nothing better than to make a snack out of the on lookers. He lifted one massive claw, and the people closest to it backed away even further. This gave the Red Mage pause.
”And if I face you, then I assume that Toth will harm no one?” She asked, knowing that Baeris would kill her for turning her Den into a battle field.
”I give you my solemn vow.” Krent bowed at the waist, and so missed the look that Mystic cast him which clearly said he and his vow could take a flying leap. She stepped forward.
”Like hell!” Magika exploded, grabbing Mystic’s shoulder from behind and hauling her back. She would have used both hands, but the other was occupied with holding her sword. “There’s no way I’m letting you go down there alone.”
”No one’s fighting anything on my asteroid!” Baeris’ voice could be heard as she emerged from the depths of the crowd. She forced her way forward, Aaron in tow, until she stood opposite Magika on the precipice overlooking the Sands. Mystic bore the smouldering of her eyes with a deadpan calm. “Mystic, if you do this I swear-“
”Don’t worry.” The mage said with a comforting smile. Though the repetition of those infuriating words was far from comforting to the Master Healer. She opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment Mystic turned and leapt from the ledge. Aaron cursed; Magika started to run.
Contrary to the laws of gravity, Mystic fell with a slow, delicate grace that made her cloak flare out like a set of wings and blew her hood back from her face. A cascade of golden hair floated around her head as she stared intently at the ground that was gradually approaching. The staff clasped always so firmly in her hand gave off a faint, blue glow, pointed down as if guiding her descent. When at last she landed, without a sound and upright, there was a certain expectance in the air. Some looked on the opponents with hesitance, concerned with their own well being. Others showed open eagerness for the fight. The newly bonded were huddled outside, separated from their friends and family by the Chaos hydra. All but Bane, for he stood at his father’s side while the two enemies faced off.
”First, let’s lay down some rules.” Krent murmured as he advanced, step by step, to match Mystic’s approach. “If anyone moves, Toth will eat them. If you try calling for outside help, Toth will eat them too.”
”Your rules seem to revolve around Toth eating people.” Mystic retorted bravely.
”And one more thing.” Krent paused, striking a dashing post ten paces away from the Red Mage. He held up one hand, and in his palm materialize a single red rose. He grinned. “For facilitating this battle, I would like to present the Master Healer with a gift.”
Before breath could be drawn to speak, Krent hurled the rose into the upper most reaches of the stands. As it flew, it melted away, became a ball of orange flame, and flew unerringly towards Baeris. Mystic whipped around to watch its path, and in that instant was struck on the shoulder with a second fire ball. It sent her spinning to the ground, and caused her to miss the point where Aaron drew his sword and thrust it and himself in front of Baeris. The ball of flames hit with a ringing force, burst along the length of the blade, and then dissipated into nothing. The sword, Darksbane, began to glow with an ethereal light that flooded the darkened cavern. Toth hissed, some of his minor heads wincing away from the holy glow. Aaron, however, was looking at Mystic’s inert form with wide-eyed horror.
”That,” Krent began in the condescending tone he was known for, “was pathetic. Get up, mage, or I’ll tear you apart where you lie.” When Mystic stirred and weakly began to pull herself up on her hands and knees, he scoffed and took a few steps forward. “Twelve years you keep me locked up in that hell hole of yours. Twelve years I waited, planned, and dreamed for this day, and this is all you can offer me?! You are nothing but a child. How did you ever gain the favour of the gods?”
”Because,” she rasped as she struggled to her feet, “I am the one who destroys you.” Her back was to him, so he couldn’t see the knowing smile she cast up to Aaron.
”Impossible!” He roared, thrusting his fist forward in the same action to send another fiery orb hurling towards her back.
At the last possible second, Mystic lunged to the side and whirled around to face Krent once more. The fire ball kept going, now on a trajectory with Blakoreth and Myrah’Care. Yet, a few feet before it would have impacted, the fire ball struck an invisible barrier and exploded into a million harmless embers. Mystic smirked, lifting her fingers to the blood matted wound on her arm. It would heal in time, but forever afterwards she would bare a star shaped scar in memory of this day. The day the hydras had escaped.
”Clever mage.” Krent purred, his wildfire fury suddenly cooling now that he saw an adversary ready to face him. “Clever, clever mage.”
Several things happened in the next instant. All these things were later recalled in fevered voices as being the instigator of the actual fight, or the start of the evacuation. Put together, some of the stories clashed with others, and some central points were forgotten in the heat of the moment. In the end, though, no one could say what actually happened first, because the three separate events started individually at the same time.
Magika emerged at the bottom of the stands, surprisingly having injured no one with her drawn sword. She shoved through the last throngs of people, then dropped into a dead run towards the nearest appendage of Toth’s.
Magika, don’t! Hyth cried as she glimpsed her bond’s suicidal run. The Adanuk gold, heedless of her own advice, started in towards Toth at once. You heard what he said, Toth will kill them if anyone moves! Oh Hells!
Magika kept running, raising her sword for the first blow, and Toth began firing. Some blasts were aimed into the crowd, and others pointed towards the small, lithe woman suddenly attacking his claw and the golden dragoness lunging in from the opposite side. With thirty heads to direct the acidic and fiery missiles, he was not immediately impeded. It was when the newly bonded riders and dragonets outside and the dragons lingering on the edges of the Sands inside joined in that he found himself somewhat troubled.
”Alright,” Aaron said as he backed Baeris into the crowd, still holding Darksbane like a shield in front of them, “when I give the signal, you run to the nearest exit.”
”I’m not leaving.” The Master Healer stated firmly, and backed her point by digging her nails into his arm.
Aaron dared a glance over his shoulder, irritation visible in the contours of his face before he looked hastily back to the fire and acid raining down on them from above. “Why can’t you women just cooperate for once?” He fumed and struck away another errant fire ball.
”Because it’s not in my nature, dear.” Baeris replied sweetly. “Now, we have to start getting these people out of here.”
While all this was going on, there was a kind of lull at the edge of the now-empty sands. Bane stood watching – worrying? Perhaps, about how his father was handling this situation. Baneo’Mybl at his side gnawed at his hand, but for some reason did not yet want to demand more attention. Something else had caught the young boy’s eye. Something moving, among the shattered eggshells.
I am Baaki’Virh, and now I am no longer alone. I would have chosen to go Wyld, but… I sense that we need each other. It was a female voice, coming from a darkish purple hatchling who carefully moved toward the boy and his other bond.
Would his father be pleased with this? Multiply bonding a true Geperna was a feat. (Though perhaps less of a feat at this particular hatching, Bane didn’t know that.) Yet, after joining with a fiersome red like Banao’Mybl, a meek purple? What would that mean? How could he explain this to Krent?
If Krent survived? There were so many noises coming from the battlegrounds nearby, such chaos. The pleasant reassurance of both dragons’ minds within his made Bane a bit more confident. He began to walk toward the dueling pair, carefully. He knew that Myrah’Care was still fuming and bellowing – but he didn’t care.
Mystic began her spell casting in earnest once her shield had been revealed. She knew that her list of spells was limited, as anything too big was likely to destroy them both in her self-made confines. Small but powerful was the way to go, and so she went straight for her favourite. Five points of magical, violet light burst from her finger tips and speared towards Krent with the accuracy only magic can provide. He had managed to erect a stone wall in his defence, but that was no use against the magic missiles that veered around and struck him anyway. Two more bursts of magic missiles followed closely after the first, causing the sorcerer to stumble back under their repeated impact. Once the last had found its mark, he straightened and glowered at the caster. A wave of his hand dispersed the earthen wall, and in its place he drew up a whirlwind force and sent it careening towards her.
The Red Mage had moved on to her next spell the second she’d finished the first three. Therefore, the whirlwind was easily deflected off her ghost armour. She was temporarily blinded by the dust cloud in its wake, but concluded the chant for lightning bolt. With her eyes closed, she only had a general idea of where Krent was, but the sound of sizzling metal and his pain-filled grunt told her that she’d hit her mark. There was no time to bask in her continuing dominance, for the next spell required a longer casting time.
Magika darted around the five wickedly curved talons decorating Toth’s massive left claw as if they were feathers and she was a child at play. Whenever she had a chance, she would thrust her blade in to catch the tender flesh between each claw. It was the only place she could do damage, since the scales covering the hydra’s entire body were rock hard and as large as her torso in some places. When the heads started coming down, attempting to snap her own off, she switched tactics and started hacking away at their throats. Each time she took down a head, she was careful not to sever it completely. Therefore, it was Toth himself who had to rip off the dead weight, giving way to freshly grown heads. The woman was becoming a nuisance.
On his other side, the golden dragoness was becoming as much of a pain as a rider. She was more reserved in her attacks, but precise as well. Whenever he turned his attention away from her, she would lunge in and tear the nearest neck into shreds. It made it all the more difficult for a new head to grow if the old one was still attached by strips of flesh and sinew. Froth began to dribble down his muzzles, dropping white and bubbly onto the blood-stained sand at his feet. The once golden grains had thickened to the consistency of mud and turned a sickly, gleaming black. Toth churned the sticky mess with his claws, feeling individual grains as they worked into his wounds and licked at his very nerves. There were dragons all around him, a sword stuck in his foot, and people attacking him from behind with whatever they could grab. He’d had enough.
Iron-like muscles bunched and coiled in his hindlegs, visible beneath the thick layer of black scales that covered his entire body. His heads snapped back into a snake-like pose, jaws gaping and blood dripping down the serpentine necks that had just recently regrown. The three tails he had been using to fend off attacks from behind suddenly stilled, spread out in three directions as if he would use them like a tripod. Using the muscles of his hindlegs and the momentum made by his massive weight, Toth heaved himself upwards and back. When he was standing fully upright on two legs, thirty heads scraping against the ceiling of the Hatching Sands and foreclaws striking the air in front of him, Toth looked down with malicious glee at the golden dragoness who had pestered him most. In one unstoppable moment, he dropped downwards again, directly onto Hyth’s chest.
She heard the scream before she felt the searing pain flash through her mind. The sound was wholly unnatural and filled with the kind of pain one would experience moments before death. With it, there was the dull, throbbing agony of being pummelled into the ground. Magika stopped dead in her tracks, sword raised for a blow that never fell, and whipped around to see what had happened to her bond.
Crushed into the sand like a fallen leaf, Hyth lay pinned beneath Toth’s massive foreclaws. Sickly green ichor seeped out from puncture wounds in her chest and her wings spread out askew beneath her. She tried moving her head, but found that the strain of her muscles was too much to take. When Toth’s many heads began to snake down with the accuracy of a feeding frenzy, she closed her eyes.
”Alright, I’ll stop!” Magika screamed. She watched with a morbid sort of fascination as thirty gaping jaws paused inches above her bond’s head. It took all of her will to uncurl her fingers from the sword hilt and let the weapon thump softly into the sand.
”Hyth!” Baeris cried over the waves of horror-stricken voices as people piled on top of each other to get out the narrow exit that she and Aaron had cleared. Her temporary personal guardian stood in front of her, sword raised to deflect any missiles that might come their way. At the sound of her voice, he whipped around to follow her line of sight.
Blak, can you get out there to help her? He sent to the large blue skulking around the back of the sands.
It’s not like I haven’t been trying, but every time I move, Myrah’Care gets it into her head to go after the kid. She’s not exactly in her right frame of mind at the moment. Blakoreth returned, an edge to his ocean-deep voice. He bobbed his head left and right, but was otherwise restrained from moving by the magical barrier erected by Mystic, and the frantic thoughts Myrah’Care was sending every which way. It took a split second for Aaron to make his decision.
”Baeris, go on ahead. I’m going after Hyth.” He said, patting her shoulder once with the dual purpose of attracting her attention and giving her a nudge in the right direction. Toth had ceased paying attention to the crowd, so Aaron took off without fear of attack, winding his way as quickly as he could down the narrow lip that separated the observation seats from a twenty foot fall to the sands.
Krent flew through the air for the third time that day, slamming bodily into the prismatic barrier that caged himself and his opponent, and bouncing off into the unyielding ground. He raised himself on his palms, spit out sand, and glared bloody murder at the robed woman’s whose blood ran the same colour as her dress.
She twirled about in an intricate dance, cloak whipping and turning like the flames of a bonfire. The golden staff that focused her magic spun round as if made of spider’s silk, so fine and precise were its movements. Then, with the suddenness of lightning, she slammed the pointed tip of the staff into the ground. Out of it erupted a small earthquake that tore the ground into jagged spikes as it sped towards him. He didn’t have time to move, and was once again blasted skywards when the earthen spikes exploded directly beneath him.
Once again, Krent landed hard on the ground, winded, bruised and infuriated beyond all reasoning. He, lord and master of hydra kind, destroyer of cities, child slayer, was being beaten by a mere whip of a woman who had only survived their last encounter by the luck of her wild magic. Yet, even as he fumed, he noticed that a faint, almost unnoticeable change had taken place. The barrier had broken. Krent had little time to savour this bit of information, for already he could hear the crackle of another spell at her fingertips, smell the acrid air, taste the heat all around him.
Krent scrambled to his feet. Mystic raised her staff for the final blow.
”Stop!” The small, prepubescent voice rose above the turmoil with such command that all action was suddenly halted. Dozens of curious eyes turned towards the slight, shadow-cast figure who had remained perfectly still throughout the proceedings. His black armour winked dully in the torchlight, accented by slender, golden veins. Under one, ghost white hand rested the head of a red dragonet, who was equally calm when his new bond turned the spotlight on them with a single word. Under his other hand, sat a meek purple. Krent’s expression went from proud to confused: his son had become a dragon master – but to what? That little thing? Bane turned his deadpan, child-like face towards Krent. “Father, I tire of this, Baneo and Baaki need to be fed. I wish to leave.”
There was another moment of silence in which the crowd attempted to digest this information. Would Krent really call off the battle on the whim of his child? It seemed unlikely, knowing the dark lord’s temper, but no one dared move just in case.
Plus there was something odd, something strange about the way Bane announced his intentions. But nothing more seemed to be coming from the cold voiced child, so Krent had to play this card as best he could.
”Well, it seems the outcome has been decided for us.” Krent said as he slowly backed away towards his Joined. Mystic kept her staff raised, the magic ready to be unleashed. She was undecided yet as to whether or not she wanted to kill him right here and now, and it showed in the furious mask of her face. “As parents, we must adhere to the whims of our children, I suppose.” The dark lord continued, spreading his arms out side to side in a gesture of defeat. With every word, he took another step backwards, towards the immobile Toth.
“We will finish this another time, Mage, that I promise you.” Krent turned and in one swift motion, vaulted to Toth’s back. The hydra slowly backed away from his fallen adversary, keeping his shoulders low so that his rider had time to pull Bane and his newly bonded dragonet into his lap. Before the hydra turned to plunge back into the portal out of which he had come, Krent looked over his shoulder and cast Mystic one last farewell. “Give my greetings to Thayer, would you? He is the spitting image of his mother.”
The tension in the air suddenly snapped with an almost audible twang. Mystic, who had been about to release her spell, felt the air rush from her lungs as if she had been struck in the chest. She turned chalk white, caught in a moment of fear that held her entranced on the spot. When it broke, she turned and ran, flat out, for the nearest tunnel that would take her to where the newborn Thayer was being cared for by one of her servants.
In the time it had taken for Toth to lift his massive weight off Hyth’s chest, Magika had managed to scoop up her sword once more and start another charge for the offending beast. Her tightly kept bun had started to come loose in the battle, and by the time she was pelting towards the hydra for a second round, it had all but fallen out. When Krent had uttered those final, damning words, though, she had changed direction in the blink of an eye. Cascades of autumn brown hair flew out behind her as she whipped around, almost too fast to be seen, and chased Mystic for the hallways of the Healing Den.
Up in the stands, Baeris heard the hidden threat and started pushing her way through the crowd for the same purpose as the two women below. She was already several paces behind Aaron, who had jumped the last few feet to the sands to catch up with his wife. Those who had not managed to leave the cavern during the confusion were now able to do so at their leisure. Others had begun to emerge again, heading for the wounded with gauze and salves.
Through the maze of tunnels that made up the lower reaches of the Healing Den Mystic ran. She could hear the pounding footsteps of other people behind her, but didn’t care to look back. The only thing on her mind at that moment in time was reaching her son. If Krent had hurt him in any way, there would be hell to pay.
It took a few minutes for the Red Mage to navigate her way through the underground, cursing at every crossroad she came to, for it only meant that she wasn’t there yet. When at last she reached the level where she and her baby had been staying, she rounded the corner only to see her servant clutching a bundle of cloth to her chest and staring at the approaching crowd in wide-eyed horror.
”I don’t know what happened.” She babbled as Mystic came tearing up to her and lifted the baby out of her arms. She was too unnerved to notice that the mage was not listening to her, but checking Thayer for any form of injury. “He started crying, so I took him for a walk and when I got back, it was just like this.”
Mystic put her back to the wall and slide down it until she was crouched on the ground, Thayer cradled against her chest. She had her eyes closed, breathing in shallowly through her mouth and trembling from head to toe. She didn’t hear the person kneel beside her and start to examine the raw wound on her arm, nor did she hear Thayer start to whimper in discomfort. All she knew was that he was safe, in her arms, and she’d never let him go again. There were other people talking around her, Aaron asking the servant what had happened, her reply that she didn’t know. The hiss of metal being drawn touched something in the back of her mind, but she didn’t have the time to pay attention to it. Her baby was warm and secure in her arms, that was all that mattered.
Aaron and Magika entered the small room together, each with weapons raised as they stared around at the tattered remains of Mystic’s things. The blankets had been pulled from the bed, shredded to pieces and left in a rumpled heap on the ground. Countless books lay open on the ground, their pages scattered around like the remnants of a freak storm. Thayer’s few toys had been torn open and left abjectly in the remains of their once peaceful abode. The crib itself had been overturned, hand-sized chunks taken out of its wooden frame. As Aaron and Magika traversed the ruins, Aaron’s sword gave off a faint glow. It was no where near the nova-like beam it had been before, but there was still something present, just at the edge of perception.
They walked cautiously, checking for any unusual presents left by the lord of hydras. There was little to see in the destroyed room, but the ever present glow of Darksbane kept both of them on edge. The enchanted sword only lit up when evil was near.
All of a sudden, a black blur leapt down from atop the bookshelf and landed on Aaron’s head with a shrill cry. Needle-like claws dug into his scalp, scrabbling for purchase as he dropped the sword and tried desperately to bat it off, cursing all the while. It continued screeching until Magika had the sense to knock it off Aaron’s head and onto the ground, whereupon it was stomped underfoot. When Aaron bent to retrieve Darksbane, he noted that it had gone dark and cold, no more than normal steel.
”Just an imp.” He said as he dabbed at a scratch on his cheek with the back of his hand. He and Magika exited the room, putting away their weapons now that the danger was over. Both went immediately to Mystic, who was already the center of a growing crowd.
”You okay?” Magika asked, crouching down beside her friend. She didn’t like how pale Mystic’s face had gotten.
”I’m alright.” Mystic said as she raised her eyes to meet Magika’s. All attempts to pry the squalling baby from her arms had ended unsuccessfully, but she had at least regained enough of herself to think coherently once again. Her eyes were blurry, threatening tears, and her cheeks bore a red flush that looked distinctly unhealthy against the pallor of her skin. Someone had had the mind to bind her arm in gauze, but the deep wound had already bled through. She needed a proper wrap, yet she was still too much in shock to move. Her lips quirked in a small, unearthly smile and she clutched Thayer to her chest as if letting go would kill her. “But I fear this is just the beginning.”
PICKUP!! please only take those belonging to you. Thanks! DO NOT LINK to those images. Please put them on your OWN site. I will be removing them after the 22nd of October and replacing them with the younglings.
Hatchlings are due up no later than October 22nd. All unclaimed (without reason) hatchlings will go wyld.