On the whole, waiting for eggs to hatch was very, very boring. Magdalena had taken three weeks of leave-time to make sure she was here in time, and so far it was halfway through that time. She spent most of her time hovering around the dragons' chamber, even inside it if the dragons and riders themselves would let her, and today was no exception. The combination of anxious daydreaming and lack of real work to do was extremely maddening. Saul's arrival at Zion three days ago, with his silent friend Kerberos in tow, didn't even help matters much, for he was as relaxed as she was tense-- and it was impossible to even guess what Kerberos was thinking.

Thank God for Derfegertz. Magdalena had spent most of her time with the other Zionite girl, waiting and talking. It was rather like before they'd both joined ship crews, only with the stress of hope and impatience. Currently, they were both lounging on the stairwell outside the dragons' lair. Derfie was stretched out, leaning back against a stair behind her and with her long legs extended before her, lounging with all the enthusiasm of a ship-bound on leave. She seemed to have gotten quite used to the waiting, though her shipmates hadn't. With the hatching impending, Tech in particular had grown more jumpy and even more irate than usual, once she'd regained some of her sapped strength. Even the stoic Coder had begun to seem irate.

"Tech says that Cel thinks they'll hatch soon," the young operator commented for perhaps the hundredth time in the last few days. "Today, even. I wonder if they will?"

"I hope so," Magdalena answered, exactly like she had every other time Derf had made that comment. "But I'm not holding my breath. Tech's been saying that ever since I got back-- when she's not yelling at someone, anyway." Magdalena, herself, was not impressed with Cel's rider's attitude; Cel was supposed to be the broody one, and she was still sweet most of the time, anyway, while Tech was just bitchy all the time.

No one can be that foul-tempered... can they?

Derfegertz grimaced expressively her agreement, but then brought her thumb to her mouth and began to chew on it, a sure sign that she was thinking. "Well, I figure we should be cutting her a bit of slack right now... I never did tell you what happened to her, did I?" She sounded subdued.

"Something happened to her?" News to Mags.

Derfie nodded gravely. "Yeah - see, she was--"

A scramble of activity from behind the door interrupted before she could finish, a loud clanging thud that had to be the dragons' doing. And then a psionic bellow, excited and frightened all at once from the young silver mother. :They're about to hatch!:

Magdalena sat up immediately at the sound inside, eyes huge. What happened, is someone hurt? What about the--

Cel's voice in her head drowned out all other thoughts momentarily, it was so powerful. The meaning took a long moment to sink in, as Magdalena shook her head dazedly. She only started to understand when the door to the dragons' lair slammed open, and Tech stood there, looking more frightening and bad-tempered than ever. "You!" She looked to Magdalena. "In, now. And Derfegertz, go gather the others if they're not already on their way." Obligingly the braided girl bounced to her feet, a wild grin on her face. She threw a salute at Tech and Coder, the latter of which who had appeared moments after the former, and on long legs flew off towards Zion.

Magdalena stared a moment at her, then scrambled to do as she ordered, ducking sinuously past her and, with much more nervousness, Coder, into the room with dragons and soon-to-be baby dragons, while Derf's footsteps rang distantly behind her, leading away.

Inside the lair, it seemed almost to be the calm before the storm. Never mind Tech pelting down the stairs again with Coder in tow behind her, there was Cel crouched eagerly in front of eggs that were, at the moment, doing little more than twitching their readiness. Only a twitching at the end of her long, modified tail showed the young mother's nerves, though her mate, standing tall beside her, was shifting his weight like he'd much rather be pacing. Both were riveted to the eggs shaking before them, hardly noticing anything else. Of the three shining orbs, two showed motion by the time Magdalena and the two riders were to the makeshift sands. Tech was tight-lipped but a high flush darkened her cheeks, as the fruits of so much anticipation and trouble were about to be born. She moved to her dragon, with Coder still in tow, now all but ignoring the candidate.

More than anything, Magdalena felt excitement as she raced headlong down the stairs, heedless of whether she might trip and make the debate of whether she'd bond a dragon hatchling a moot point. There was anxiety, certainly, and fear, and also hope, but largely, excitement was winning out. Breathless, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs, uncertain of what she should be doing-- but suddenly a voice in her ear, one she'd never expected to hear, was giving her instructions. "All you have to do is stand," she heard, gaze shifting swiftly, eyes alighting on Coder, who was looking at her with as gentle an expression as he'd ever turned on her, "there in front of the eggs. When they hatch, your dragon will come to you." She beamed at him in thanks, nodded, and stepped where he'd told her to as he slipped off, silent as a ghost, to his own bulky bronze.

The eggs were twitching, the dragonets inside them trying to get out-- only two, but there was time for the other to start, too. Wasn't there? How long do hatchings even take? I've never seen one-- not of anything. If it's anything like human births, we could be here for a while....

As the minutes dragged by, the high-arched, dingy room was slowly filling, as intrigued or curious persons trickled in. Magdalena was starting to get more anxious than excited, hearing footsteps thundering around in the tiers above her. There were going to be people watching this? She had somehow missed that, and the idea of being stared at, at such an important moment somehow made her nervous. What if none of the hatchlings liked her, and she was the only one of the four left standing? Her first thought was that, that would be embarrassing, but then she quickly figured she would be too unhappy, herself, to be worried about being embarrassed, if that happened.

That third eggs was still not moving, even though another had rolled itself right around, showing cracks all over its shining shell. Cel nuzzled the still egg, and from her expression, Magdalena had the sinking feeling that it would not hatch. Was that normal? Magdalena had no way of knowing, but her nervousness at being watched was suddenly replaced by worry that she couldn't quite explain, though it clenched the muscles of stomach with anxiety.

Familiar footsteps rang out behind her, and she risked a glance back. She was startled by the sheer number of people standing on the tiers, but made herself focus on the friendly faces pounding down the stairs: Saul, with Kerberos on his back like a child, followed by Derfegertz. Kerberos exclaimed a short word, which Magdalena couldn't make out, and Saul came up beside her, panting. Coming up beside Mags, Derfie shot the other girl a grin that was nothing less than ecstatic. "Isn't it great?" she panted, looking at the eggs, but then she was silent, her attention caught, as Magdalena's had been when she first entered, on the eggs.

Saul slipped his burden to the ground, steadying him to make sure he stayed on his feet. "Yeah, Kerbie, that's Cel," he finally answered, then asked, "Mags, did we miss anything?" She shook her head, flashed both him and Derf a tight grin, then focused back on the eggs.

As soon as the last candidates burst into the room they were confronted with almost complete silence. A hush had fallen into what of the crowd had managed to jam itself along the edges of the room, which was the only place they dared go under the watchful eye of the great modified bronze who watched them with a hawk's eye. An almost reverent feel blanketed the chamber, and the crowd made room for the candidates descending the stairs as soon as the panting Derfegertz made it known that they were there at all.

Cel was nudging the silent orb still, nuzzling at it so that it fell listlessly to one side. :Little one?: she crooned psionically, heedless of who might hear, open to all who were sensitive. :Little one, wake up, your bond is waiting for you. Come out, little love,: she whimpered to it, her rider's equal premonition of fear slipping like smoke beyond the block she had up and into the dragon's mind, mixing with her own apprehension. She whined, and stepped forward to touch the egg with one gentle forepaw, uncomprehending. The great bronze came forward a step, and Cel looked at him with depthless eyes, stepping back and whining. She had heard of dead eggs, but... she never thought it would happen to her.

Magdalena had caught the meaning of Cel's distress. So it wasn't normal; eggs usually did hatch. The fear came back, despite the presence of her brother and friend, and Magdalena wrung her hands anxiously. Only two, then-- at least they were trying to hatch. That meant they would be healthy, right? Saul was watching the dead egg with a very sober expression, one hand still holding Kerberos' elbow for support, and that didn't make Magdalena feel any better.

:Come on,: she thought fiercely at the two remaining eggs, as if her support would make them break free sooner. :You can do it!:

The more vigorous of the two was beginning to shed fragments of silver eggshell, the hide beneath gleaming flashes of wet gold in the dim light. The gathered Zionites inhaled collectively as a particularly vigorous thrash sent a chunk of eggshell the size of two palms to the ground, earning an encouraging croon from both parents. The dragonet began to push free from the hole that had bared its shoulders and back to the world but paused, catching its breath.

"A gold!" Derfegertz squeaked, grabbing hold of Mags's arm with incomprehensible excitement. "It's a gold!"

The second egg was shaking steadily, but the black lines that indicated cracks in the shining shell were growing slowly. The hatchling would likely be a weak one, and it was on this egg that Cel's attentions fell vehemently, her confusion replaced with a frantic determination fuelled by fear. She crouched over the egg, nudging at it and tapping to the hatchling within, the webbing of cracks spreading outwards from her helpful claws. :Come, my baby, just a little longer and you're free!:

Magdalena stood perfectly still as Derf clung to her, torn between wonder at the first birth she'd ever witnessed, and the fear that didn't quite want to leave her. Saul, beside her, was less dumbstruck. Though he let out a little gasp of awe, he kept his wits with him and ushered Kerberos closer gently, towards the little gold hatchling. Kerberos leaned forwards as the first hatchling cast off a large chunk of its eggshell, and almost stumbled despite how gently Saul nudged him. He caught himself without the squeak or flail Kerbie might have made, and dropped to his knees to watch the gold's egg directly. He lifted a hand, but pulled it back instantly, wanting to touch but not sure if he should.

It was the little gold's renewed motions that stole attention away from the growing tension in the room, as it began to twitch and struggle again. Bits of shell littered the impromptu hatching grounds and more fell from around the gap in the egg till finally, exhausted from the struggle, a wet, gangly, shining baby dragon fell to freedom. Its first breath of air was a strangled gasp, and then a triumphant creel that pattered off into a forebodingly weak cough. Key let out a muted roar of triumph and Cel joined in, but with a creel that sounded desperate, almost like the hatchling's.

It was when the young dragon managed to right itself that the first sign of something wrong. The hatchlings wings were obviously malformed, gnarled and tightly held to its back, wing tines membraneless, stubby and useless. Its mind was truly awakening for the first time, and the assembled all felt a brush as it tried to choose, but the gleaming golden thing stumbled as it tried to take a step towards Kerbie. Its forelimbs were so week as to be useless, and it whimpered when it found that it couldn't stand. If she had been struck dumb before, the sight of the malformed hatchling under Kerberos' stare shook Magdalena free. God, the poor thing--

Cel was whimpering, open-mouthed, frantic. Torn between the egg she was helping, which had gone shudderingly motionless moments before, and going to her one hatched child, she looked back and forth between the two frantically. Her serpentine body twisted, and finally, she attacked the second eggshell in a flurry of tapping and picking, determined to have both of her remaining children hatch. As bits of shell slowly fell away, bits of bright bronze were revealed.

Magdalena's shock turned quickly into action. Cel was poking at the second egg desperately, trying to help the hatchling, but her large claws and muzzle weren't suited for it. Courses of action flitted through her head, and she settled on the most drastic, and darted forward herself, crying to the dragoness, "You're going to hurt it! My hands are smaller, let me!" Without waiting for a response, she hurriedly dropped to kneel beside the still egg, ducking Cel's efforts, finding the cracks the agitated hatchling and even more agitated mother had made and carefully widening them with fingers much more suited to the delicate task than the dragoness'.

:Come on,: she thought again, this time focusing on just the little bronze under her hands, :Come on, you can do it, I'll help you.: The hatchling shuddered again under the sending and the physical aid, as if trying to take strength from it. Cel had pulled back, a confused and frantic look on her draconic profile, but she'd understood the reality of the girl's words. Sinking in her own helplessness, the dragoness watched as finally, with the help of the Zionite girl, the second hatchling was freed. The light of the full room revealed bright chrome mottling on the hatchling's back and sides, and the bicolor should have been rejoiced in. But tragedy instead reared its head again, as when the young thing fell from its shell into Magdalena's arms, it didn't move. Curled in a fetal position, it was obviously malformed, tail and limbs being little more than stumps on a thin and weak torso. There was no membrane on its tiny wings, tail, or head-fin, and its eyes were shut tightly. It was a pitiful and horrific sight, and would obviously not make it through its first moments out in the world.

Magdalena could feel the brush of a confused mind as the dragon child felt her there and struggled to meet her, and for a moment did. It was exactly as Cel had sent to her, a whole month and a half ago, the touch of a mind like the meeting of souls-- but with one horrible difference. The touch faded as soon as the one who made it spilled out of her shell, into Magdalena's waiting grasp, but was even more unformed than the gold behind her. Hatchling and girl shuddered with a final sending of pain and confusion as, unable to bring air into her weak lungs at all, the baby dragon could not even take her first breath.