November 29, 2002
Niaryth and Arisvath's eggs finally hatch.

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With mincing steps, you make your way onto the searing heat of Ista's blackened Sands.

What a time for the eggs to hatch. All the candidates were snug and asleep in their cots when the call sounded. It was time! Niaryth thrums, the dragons on the ledges thrum, waking their riders. Serri stumbles, bleary-eyed out of the sandy niche. "

Arisvath's always been here, proudly overlooking the eggs with a fatherly interest -- faint bemusement at R'hyn's staggered entrance from beyond the bowl. "What happened to giving a person some warning?" gripes the bronzerider, as Arisvath takes up the thrum, and R'hyn hurries towards Serriena.

The first three of thirty-seven eggs around Niaryth is rocking, the gold watching them as they tremble. It is time, she thrums happily, letting the weyr know her eggs are hatching, keeping a secure eye on Selynth in case the other gold tries to harm her babies.

A group of Weyrbred candidates lead the march - well, beside the weyrlingmasters, beginning to form a semi-circle around the eggs of Niaryth and Arisvath's clutch. One or two holder candidates give a glance towards Selynth's eggs, just briefly, before turning their attention back to the clutch at hand. "They're /rocking/."

The first of the candidates leak onto the sands, some trying to finish tying their hair back, one boy nearly falling over as he attempts to keep one foot straight in front of the other. "Did they have to start this early in the morning?" Rissa, one girl doesn't bother to hide the huge yawn. She shuffles out joining the girls.

"Bet it's intentional," agrees Marhadin, from Keroon Hold. "They want us tired." He crosses his hands in front of him, hot-footing back and forth upon the hot sands.

"Why this early?" Serriena's joining the candidates in complaining about the time. She glances outside where the darkness still paints the sky a black color. She turns her attention back to the eggs, looking at the candidates as they shuffle out tiredly. "Are you as tired as I am?" she asks R'hyn.

R'hyn glances towards Arisvath, who merely huffs authoritively. The eggs hatch when the eggs tired. "Probably," agrees R'hyn, stiffling a yawn with one hand as he nervously glances towards the galleries.

Minerd, one of the boys teased because his father named him after the mining craft he loved so much, shuffles out after the candidate group.

Arisvath's favourite egg rolls over onto its side, wobbling lightly. One of the younger candidates lets out a yelp.

The scalloped lines of the Sea Blue Waves Egg crack and feather as the dragonet pushes through his shell. There's first a bit of a nose sticking out, although the color is not viewable. Then as if sensing there is freedom beyond the egg an arm rips through, effectively busting the egg and releasing a raisin-pudding brown onto the sands. He wastes no time examining his egg, hunger pressing him to choose someone fast. He walks the candidates, examining them before his berry-brown head raises and as his wings dry, he claims Morerd as his own. M'ed announces, "His name is Boshanth!"

R'hyn's face is limned with pride at that first impression, as he nudges his arm towards Serriana as if to try and point it out.

A little egg, off to one side, rolls over itself several times, until the pale green ripples of its shell break off into little tiny pieces, and an equally green head twists out to peer expectantly into the eyes of a young girl from Nerat. "Uh, Shalavaraeth? Oh!"

As weyrlingmasters escort M'ed and Boshanth off the sands to the niche, drudges are already trying to carry out Serri's cot and her month's worth of stuff she had piled up in the niche. At the same time, two eggs Rusty Plated Armor Egg and Crowned Jewels Egg both explode as the hatchings in respect, bronze and green crawl free. Already the other eggs are taking on the tune the dragons provide, dancing and rocking in their mounds as if excited by the hatching.

"I see it I see it. Brown is good, good sign of a strong clutch," Serriena mumurs. Niaryth hums happily as the impressions occurr.

"Come along with us, Shlavaraeth? Good name," One of the weyrlingmasters says to the Nerat girl. The bronze walks amongst the males, before stopping in front of Marhadin and his eyes whirl faster. "Shards!

"Viarath!" murmurs one little girl, close to fainting as her blue lifemate is rolled out of his nondescript egg, and rushes directly towards her. "Oh, Viarath, there's a million things and more to see, and we'll see them all together." As the weyrlingmasters come to collect her, she's so overwhelmed that she bursts into tears.

"Come along with us, Shlavaraeth? Good name," One of the weyrlingmasters says to the Nerat girl. The bronze walks amongst the males, before stopping in front of Marhadin and his eyes whirl faster. "Shards!" Marhadin exclaims. "Yes Siyeth," H'din leans down to touch his bondmate. The green apparently went the other way because Solara, one of the girls from Red Sands, finds herself saying, "Yes Zuuluth. I'll come with you."

R'hyn turns his head this way and that, entirely unable to catch it all, but desperately trying. "Brings back so many memories," he murmurs, before red-haired Briyendar finds his eyes going wide as he meets his match in vivid green. "B'yendar it is, Ravareth. B'yender, always."

More Ovaltine Please Egg cracks and breaks into tiny little flakes of chocolate brown shards. There's a strange sound like milk splashing as two shards fall apart around a rambunctious brown who shoots across the sands, trying to race and tripping over his own awkward feet. His antics catch the attention of Roria, one of the girl candidates who starts to laugh. He pulls himself to his feet and lowers his head charging at her. Roria shrieks and jumps back, letting Shetarey, one of the girl candidates to step up. The brown squawks and bumps his head into Shetarey's stomach, declaring her as his. "Hhunakreth!" Her joy is apparent as she attends to her new lifemate.

Burnished moonlight plays upon the hide of the sultry blue that escapes from the Mischief in Melancholy Egg, slinking across the sands with the grace of a feline - and the air of an aristocrat. Eyes widening, Shaye, from the Istan Harper Hall, breathes out a name that's barely audible - but is nonetheless caught amid the stands, a stilled hush greeting the newest pair. "Khayanath!"

From within Tiger's Paw Egg and Questionable Game Egg, two blues break forth, the hatchlings nearly bumping into each other as they hatch so close. They set off on the same path, warily eyeing each other as they venture down the candidate line. As if in competition they examine each candidate, as if to find their special bond first. The blue from the Tiger egg finds it first, letting out a croon at Rissa who squeals excitedly. "Haeth says he is hungry!" The other blue prompty makes a pick and K'nric and Mercth find a good match.

"I know, this always makes me think of when Niaryth found me." Serriena watches the happiness between pairings, remembering her own newness. Niaryth lowers her large head, hanging it near Serriena's shoulder. Serriena reaches up to touch her nose affectionately.

"Mashaeth!" "Shariath!" Two greens meet their matches almost at the same time, just to the right of where R'hyn is standing, so that he can catch both Impressions with laughter upon his lips, hands clapping. "Yeah. Seems like yesterday," murmurs the Weyrleader, quietly.

The nose of a small brown nudges out from the remains of his summer-water-coloured egg, as he peers at the world in tremulous fascination. A stray movement has him rolling head over tail, egg splattering into pieces behind him, as the gooey hatchling seeks out something-- whatever it is. In the eyes of a Journeyman Seacrafter, something finds home, and the young woman reaches out to wrap her arms about the brown, murmuring his name softly. "Lhanth, of course I love you."

A rather dusty looking blue crawls from the broken shards of the Peanuts Gang Egg. As he walks across the sand, he seems to drag dirt behind him, his tail picking up the grains of black sand and carrying them. When he finds his bond, he lets out a sharp croon of happiness and nearly rolls in the dirt. "Penth!" Finia, says laughing his name. "Get back up. You'll get dirty if you roll." She sighs happily, staring at him.

Lazily meandering, the green that emerged from the Summer Daydreams Egg peers vacantly into each face in turn, then turns upon her tottering limbs again to cross the sands. Arisvath is found, then turned away from, to the bronze's disappointment, but to his delight, she trips over her limbs a moment later, and ends up a tangled pile with Chesha of Ista Hold. "Nyareth, my pretty."

"This is happening quickly," Serriena murmurs to R'hyn. "I really don't know why, but it feels like this happens too fast." She watches the candidates as they impress. The painted ivory curls of the Oodles of Noodles egg shred open as the package barrier break and a fat blue dragonet tumbles out. He wastes no time in tasting his egg and determining it unedible with an unhappy croon. He wanders the line of candidates before suddenly dashing at the little boy who was teased for his name. Minerd, now M'erd, has something else to worry about as he says, "Yes Janth.. we'll get you fed!"

Another green - in fact, another two, coupled with a somewhat rotund brown from a nearby egg, traverse the sands together, darting towards the first candidates they see. Both greens find young girls from the weyr's lower caverns, and the brown discovers his one true love in Kashdarin of High Reaches, whose resonating WHOOP of joy echoes through the entire cavern. "His name is BRAESHIANTH, and he's MINE!" K'shdar all but dances from the sands, lifemate at his heels.

"Too fast," agrees R'hyn, darting this way and that with his eyes, rubbing at his right elbow with one hand. "Goodness, but they're a good lot. Only one bronze so far, I think?" He's lost count of the rest.

"Haven't seen any others," Serriena raises up trying to see everything. "I hope we have some more bronzes." She sounds a bit worried.

R'hyn shrugs his shoulders, watching a little green find a little girl off to one side. "We're not desperate for bronzes. We need browns more, I think." There's a little smile upon his face, as though having this nugget of information pleases him. "Ah, there!" A honeyed-wine coloured bronze rolls out of Arisvath's favourite egg - a little green one, go figure - and scampers directly towards blustering Braevor. "Br'vor? Oh, me! Shashanith, you're mine."

The Ochre of Red egg that was debated upon finally reveals itself as a very strong blue bursts free. All the candidates who bet it would be brown, wince as they realize what the payup will be. Serriena reaches out to nudge R'hyn and grins. "It was blue like we said!" She's grinning like a cheshire cat and her shoulders rock from side to side as she does a little celebratory, stay in place dance. The blue marches up to Roria and commands her attention. "Quaith?" Roria looks down at the blue, "But you're not green!" Well her preferences were obvious. "Well yes of course I love you!" Her preferences change as the little blue gives her the most innocently hurt look. She drops down and puts her arms around him to prove it.

It's Roria's second-cousin (twice removed) that recieves the attention of the next green -- perhaps instead of her cousin. Ronia outstretches her arms, somewhat nervously, to envelop her new lifemate, crying, "But you're not blue, Shayanth!"

It is still dark outside and some candidates who have not been chosen are leaning against each other trying not to fall back asleep. One such boy, has fallen asleep on his feet, eyes closed, head dropped to his chest. He's resting way back against the gallery walls. It is no surprise that when a lean little blue approaches him, he's shrieking and scolding Phelps for being asleep. P'lep startles awake, saying with some sheepishness, "Geez Wrenth, you could have been a little quieter." Only when P'lep wakes does he shout, "Shards! He spoke to me!" Awe replaces sleep.

"Mieth, my little one!" It's a little bit of an odd picture, in truth; tiny, scrawny Braival, and large, elongated brown Mieth-- but Br'val is more than happy with the picture, and so, it seems, is Mieth, and the two walk off the sands together happily.

Ceamos finds himself caught within the very green eyes of a bronze who broke free from the Tastes Great with Ketchup Egg. A'mos looks down into those brilliant loving eyes and whispers, "Noath... yes we'll be together always." He reaches down to touch the head of the dragonet.

"It's getting close to time," Serriena says to R'hyn. She stands high on tiptoe and counts the eggs left, "Thirteen, no make that twelve," she says another bronze impresses. "Huh..when did he hatch?"

Another two greens - one as dark as the pre-dawn air outside, the other as light as the day that is coming - break free of eggs that are on opposite ends of the hatching cavern. That doesn't stop them from very nearly bumping in to each other on their way towards their prospective mates. "Shall we get Wyranth and Cryvalth some food, mm?" murmurs one of the weyrlingmasters, to the weyr's two newest greenriders.

"Ten," marvels R'hyn, eyes wide. "So very, very fast. Is it so fast when it's not your lifemate's eggs hatching?" he glances towards Selynth's eggs, then shakes his head. "I don't watch many hatchings, mostly. Don't pay much attention." But this one -- well, he has to. Arisvath is such the proudest of papas.

The Golden Ray of Sunshine Egg, the yellow egg debated as to the color- would it be gold? -, pours forth a rather daffodile yellowed green hatchling. The glimmers of yellow that speckle her green hide cause murmurs to rise that perhaps the green /should have/ been gold. But this was not the case as she marches up to Recan of Greenfield hold. R'eca who whispers Neakath's name, suddenly says, "Stop talking about her like she's not listening!" He glares at the gossipers.

R'hyn looks - almost - relieved that there isn't another gold, though he purposefully projects a disappointed glance as much as possible towards Arisvath, who is unconcerned. He knew all along.

"Well that answers that," Serriena looks at Niaryth who doesn't look perturbed. So what if she gave that egg some special attention. It was a pretty egg and the dam is allowed to hover over whatever eggs she likes!

Another two eggs roll against each other, the force breaking them into pieces. There's a blue, and another green, and both find their lifemates in short order - the former to a young girl from the Keroon plains, the latter to the child of a greenrider at the weyr.

Teraf, another sleepy candidates, yawns and shuffles around. He leans on Onoi for support, snoozing slightly. The tired candidates who haven't been chosen are looking a bit grumpy or sleepy. Teraf's convenient shoulder is taken as a brown dragonet suddenly chooses Onoi. O'no yells, "Ecanth!" dropping to his lifemate's side. Teraf frowns, losing his support. He meanders towards Caymas but finds himself blocked by a blue. The blue bugles up at him and R'af looks down saying, "No I'm not hungry Leloth but I am sleepy."

R'hyn's heart is in his throat, as one egg struggles to hatch, the shell battered and shoved about, but not quite managing to break. It takes a few minutes, with Arisvath watching on nervously, before the minty green within finally breaks free, tumbling head over forelimbs to land right in front of a young man from Cardiff, down south. "Haeshaeth!"

"Five eggs left," Serriena murmurs to R'hyn. "Oh I hate what comes up after it's all over. The speech.." She glances at the last impression, "Four eggs." She looks nervous for some reason. The candidates know it's coming to an end too. Those who don't find a lifemate now, have the chance to try again with Selynth's clutch.

R'hyn swallows, hard. "Oh, yeah. The speech." He glances around the candidates, somewhat nervously, and nods. "Oh, look, there's another one!" Another blue, learning locomation almost in the moments that he hatches, ducking towards sweet-faced Ilaerys who opens her arms wide, "Santh."

"I don't suppose you want to give the speech for me do you?" Serriena asks as she watches a bronze break free from the Black Stratosphere Egg. The bronze gives a weak creel of hunger as if it won't be living much longer without food. It stumbles over its own egg and heads the wrong way away from the candidates, towards Arisvath, creeling at his sire as if he might provide some food. The weak creel - came from not using its voice. As it approaches and its wings dry, the dragonet lets out a louder screech.

"Uh," says R'hyn, swallowing. "No?" He pauses, adding, "Is that the third bronze, or the fourth? I lost count. Good for the wings, though, in time. Browns, and bronzes. Just what we needed." Arisvath nudges his nose down at the little bronze, crooning warmly as if telling it that everything is okay, he just needs to find someone out there. As if making an example, a very large, almost coppery tinted brown marches straight past, into the arms of young Maesha.

The last egg proves that green shall always be the populous heavy color at any hatching. The busty green, literally busty because she punched through her egg with two talons and a tail, walks the candidate line, examining each candidate. She finds a mate in Serahan, now S'han of Ista Hold. The little bronze nose-nudges Arisvath back, before taking his advice and honing in on those white creatures.

Somewhat shy, someone left out - and no wonder, since he's hardly able to string two words together, and constantly earns the label 'slow', Khaemil of Ista is perhaps the candidate least expected to get bronze. As if the last hatchling upon the sands has taken some kind of cue from his father for real, he wobbles directly towards Khaemil, greeting him with a triumphant bugle. "Avr--Avranth? Oh, Avranth!" Kh'mil reaches out to embrace his lifemate, quietly delighted.

Serriena gives a small sigh of relief as the last pairing is made. She smiles at R'hyn, almost cat-like as she says, "I'll pay you 200 marks to give this speech." Right - like she actually /HAS/ 200 marks.

R'hyn has - slightly - more sense than that. "You will not, and you know it. Go on, do it. I'll stand behind you, and look important."

Serriena sticks her tongue out at R'hyn and smiles. But when she turns to look at the candidates left, her face is more sympathetic and serious. "Candidates," she addresses them, "As you know.. you have the choice to stay and stand for Selynth's clutch. Just because you didn't find your lifemate today doesn't mean you won't. The dragons scented you out for a reason - because you have potential to be a dragonrider. So you are welcome to stay and stand for Selynth's clutch, or if you wish to go home, we will have a dragon escort you home." Serriena's not getting /too/ much attention because eyes are drooping with sleep. "You are welcome to return to the barracks and sleep in tomorrow."

R'hyn looks just as tired, and his expression, though somewhat kindly, is also somewhat vacant. He steps up, to stand just behind Serriena, as a proper weyrleader should, then bobs his head towards them as they go. "I think it's time for a nap," he says, as he watches the candidates stroll past.

"Your weyr or mine?" Serriena jokes as she heads off the sands, agreeing with that nap.

It's R'hyn's turn to stick out his tongue, though he comments, teasingly, as he steps off the sand, "The bed that came in mine is probably big enough for four your size, to share with me, Serriena!" A flush. A brilliant one. Even the joy of a hatching can't make him entirely at ease.

You step off the blackened heat of the Sands to the cooler purchase of the foyer.

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