A week of sight-seeing, three nights of chatting it up with fluffy little dragons, a few interesting diversions, and a very long day of waiting later, the bonding was finally here. Her father wished her friends luck, gave her a somewhat awkward hug, then retreated to a seat among the dragonic guests, presumably to talk more business and idle pleasantries. Deborah herself got well-wishes from a few of the already-bonded boys-- and a few of the already-bonded girls, with whom she'd chatted a little-- who had come to watch the bonding, from a couple of the dragons she'd met during her stay, and from a few of the other candidates-- now called "novos", according to the Ryslen naming system, a system which the priestly Master of Ceremonies, or whatever he was, seemed to like. The fantastically fuzzy one, Kienn, even gave her a not-so-chaste little kiss for luck, though for hers or his she didn't bother asking. Copper had, of course, also wished her luck, though she'd refused to actually come and watch.

Dinner was, of course, superb. It was always fascinating to try local foods, and for the pre-bonding feast was a step above even the meals she and the others had purchased around the city during her stay. It didn't live up to the legends of other medieval feasts she'd read about, with no dragon-shaped ice sculptures or scroll-shaped bread rolls, but there were several courses, and the food was prepared to high standards of flavor and attractiveness. The thought crossed her mind that ice and dough sculpture was probably a bit over the top, particularly when you didn't really need to impress anybody with you culinary arts. This feast was less a show of pomp and more a celebration, which Deborah found a distinct relief. If it hadn't been chilly and raining-- there had been a brief thaw the night before, a warm spell that turned the settled snow into slush and the falling snow into sleet-- it would have been a perfect way to spend a cultural evening.

In an attempt to ignore the chill and damp, she spent the time chattering amiably with Mariette, bantering wickedly with Elsie, flirting with a boy across the table from her who she didn't know, and wondering which dragons might decide to make Start City their home. There would be two, at least, for Aduri and Demulcei, the Fire and Fire-Light mixed-breed, had made their intentions quite clear, even if they hadn't actually staked their claim immediately. Mariette was still somehow managing to be anxious about it all, but she really had nothing to worry about. Elsie was, of course, not at all concerned, but then, he rarely seemed concerned about anything except whether or not someone thought he was really big and hairy. Which, of course, he was, but no one would care about even if they did know. More to the point, he was hardly worried about Aduri having a change of heart.

So there would at least be two dragons coming home to Star City. No one seemed to stand out among the dragon kits as someone who was, without a doubt, interested in Deborah herself enough to make such a drastic life change. She had spent the third night with the some of the same group as the second: regal Visio the Light, bubbly Insta the Air, and clever Purpura the Earth, only minus Gravo, who had found another candidate to chat with, and plus Purpura's Light friend, Amito, who seemed oddly interested in seafood. The bulk of the meeting time had been describing what life would be like for them on Star City station: what kinds of schooling they'd receive, what kinds of places they'd live, what options for the future were open to them, and the like.

Personally, Deborah expected to be chosen by Insta, if anyone. Clever, regal, or cheerful the boys might have been, she simply couldn't see herself mentally bonded to anything male. The thought was close to disturbing, to be linked to such an alien, hostile, unmanageable thing as the male mind, forced to experience intimately anything they might be thinking of feeling at any given time. No, it would have to be Insta, and she would probably spend a lot of time introducing the young Air-- once she was old enough!-- to the social scene on the station; Insta certainly seemed interested enough in it. Before she was old enough, well, Deborah would simply take a break, herself, and focus more on her studies, perhaps finally earn a degree, while learning along with the dragonet anything in particular she needed to know. Aedelian had been kind enough to offer the three of them his magical tutoring for whichever dragonets they brought back, and though Deborah knew she had no magical talent of her own, it would be fascinating to watch her own dragon learn.

The gold-tinted Light priest, Naio, the redoubtable Aloia's very doubtable and very boring father, finally finished his speech. Not everyone could have as sweet and clever a father as she did, she mentally consoled the golden matron. Though, for being white-haired and middle-aged, he wasn't all that horrid-looking; Deborah watched him through her lashes as a scattered, unenthusiastic clapping answered the end of his long-winded ramble, considering with a bit of malicious pleasure what he would do if she tried flirting with him. No man she knew of, if he wasn't gay, couldn't at least be attracted by a lovely female approaching him, but she figured that his stuffy sensibilities would refuse to acknowledge that, and he would be wonderfully uncomfortable. Perhaps, if she ever had to sit through another of his speeches, she could procure a seat near his and make sultry faces at him; that would surely cut him short, and be amusing, besides. Certainly more amusing than the speech he'd given, this time.

"Novos," he finally said with a horribly pompous smile, once the vague clapping-- presumably because he'd finally stopped talking-- died out, "Novos, please rise and await the kits."

Everyone rose, including Deborah, though she rose more slowly then Mariette's anxious bounce and Elsie's excited leap; she had expected the ceremony to take place inside, rather than out in the rain under a tarp, and so had worn her usual stiletto heels. If she rose any faster, she would be in danger of sinking into the half-frozen earth, stumbling, or both, and she refused to look clumsy for something as important as a bonding ceremony. The whole group of bonding hopefuls moved a pace or two from the dinner table, facing the basket of scrolls, basket of daemon eggs, and empty platform, all under another set of tarps to keep the rain from ruining the picture. Kits filed out after a moment, impeccably groomed and showing signs of the same anticipation and excitement as the candidates, and formed an even row on the platform itself. One, a Water, started to step down almost immediately.

Before she could even complete the step, a daemon stole the show. Deborah had learned all about the daemonic project of creating actual, bonding dragons-- or, she had learned what she could about it-- and somehow, didn't find it surprising that a dramatic cracking sound stopped the dragon cold. This one looked very much like its predecessors, like the little black one she'd caught a glimpse of and the pretty pink one who attended the meetings with one of the military boys from far-distant Earth. Given what she'd heard about the first three, she also didn't find it surprising when it-- she, her mind-voice revealed-- further threw everyone off by bonding her creator, the daemon Bergez. Even less surprising that the irascible Bergez didn't take well to it. Deborah couldn't help but smile her amusement at her protests.

Finally, though, the dramatics out of the way, the real bondings could begin. The Water chose, a pair of Airs chose, Demulcei's small, fluffy siblings choose, and one of the other foreigners was chosen by not just a cheerful little Fire, but also another of those dramatic daemons. Deborah suppressed a flare of jealousy: two dragons! Wouldn't that be novel!

Then the moment she'd been waiting for finally happened. Demulcei and Aduri had been standing together, watching the former's twin siblings bond to, as expected, the magical suit of armor and, somewhat surprisingly, to Kienn, the furry one who had confided to her that he didn't really even like dragons. Now, though, Insta was approaching the scroll basket, with Purpura walking beside her, and Aduri and Demulcei, their scrolls already picked out of the pile, looked up alertly at their approach. Deborah smiled with a little relief; Insta was coming to choose her, though she hadn't the faintest idea who Purpura was after. The Earth hadn't spoken to anyone but herself and Ferox, Elsie's newly named IHD-- unless for some strange reason he wanted to bond the arrogant, if amusing, little machine. Was that even possible?

At the basket, though, they stopped, and Purpura gave the Air a challenging look. The smaller dragon, after a moment of what Deborah could only guess to be silent communication, backed away and onto the podium again, expression thoughtful. Deborah had no idea what to think, except that Insta wasn't coming for her, then... had Purpura told her not to? What was he thinking?

When he took up a scroll, himself, and led the other two in the direction of the trio from Star City-- including, consequently, herself-- she thought she might know. It was preposterous, ridiculous, not what she had expected nor wanted-- but when his purposeful stride brought him right in front of her, she had to admit to herself that it was exactly what he had in mind. "You were interested in my stories," he drawled, though his gaze on her face was determined. He seemed, unsurprisingly, to be lapping up the attention of both other dragons and other station-residents. "None of the others are smart enough for you," he continued, "so, here I am."

Well, she thought with a wry smile though her amazement and mild misgivings, at least he's got some kind of brain in his head. When he held up his scroll in one brown, furry hand with a small flourish and an even smaller smirk, she smiled back at him and took it.