Cel sat back and opened her mouth in a silent creel, eyes frantically darting between her two children in denial. One child unborn, one dead upon hatching, and the last... struggling to hold onto life, but losing the battle with its own body. When the golden hatchling gave one last spasmodic shudder of pathetic agony and then ceased, sinking to the ground with unseeing eyes, the young mother fell silent. Behind her, Key groaned, a deep, animal, impossibly anguished sound that shook the room, and out of sight Tech joined in, face gray with drained horror. "I knew it," she rasped, and finally shut her eyes to the calamity.

After the echoes of Key's groan faded, the room was utterly, completely and totally silent, until a sound like a smith's bellows being filled caught the attention of the crowd present: an inhalation of a pair of massive lungs. Then a scream tore through the room, echoing with horrible inhuman clarity as Cel howled her loss. Key's bass roar joined in and they shook the room with pure feeling, feeling echoed in Magdalena's silence, for she felt unable to make a sound.

It was Yana, of the small crew of the Dragonchaser, who shook from her horrified reverie first. She had watched the hatching, silent and tense, to its impossible conclusion, and now, someone had to do something. She stepped forward quickly, face lined more deeply than ever, and began to shoo the crowd out. It was slow going, even with the noise the dragon parents were making, but the room emptied, leaving only the candidates, the dragons, the crew, and two people standing high in the tiers.

One was the young, dark-skinned woman Keshari, staring down sadly at Saul and his charge, who was crying heartbrokenly into her lover's chest. The other was an older, more solemn woman, whose graying golden hair and strong face bore a strong resemblance to Saul and Magdalena. In respect, though, they remained on the top tier, silent, waiting for the right moment to retrieve their loved ones.

Derfegertz had not moved from the place that she and Saul still occupied since the calamity had begun to show its true nature. She didn't so much twitch a muscle till the howls began to die down, and Cel suddenly collapsed limply on the floor, gasping for air. Then the girl started forward, haltingly, watching Magdalena with nervous, almost pitying eyes. "Mags..." she croaked, finding the lump that her heart had turned into had migrated up to block her own throat. "Mags... are you... are you okay?"

Magdalena stared wordlessly down at the still, small body she still held, hearing the silver dragoness' keening and her mate's roaring, but not reacting to it. It seemed a fitting response to everything that had happened, at least. She didn't move even once they stopped, as if by holding onto the little dragon, somehow she would start to move again, touch her mind again like she did before. Derf's words came softly behind her, but she didn't have an answer for her. What was she supposed to say? Yes, I'm fine, never better? She shook her head slowly, not necessarily in negation, but certainly not with agreement, either.

There was a shuffling behind the dragons as Coder had to shift his grip on Tech. The woman, who had slumped listlessly in a near-faint before, was on her feet again, glassy-eyed, and silently she tugged him towards the exit. The two left, each in their own brand of mourning, allowing the dragon parents to do the same. Yana melted into the background, for once in her life specifically wanting not to intrude.

Derfie dropped to her knees beside her friend, looking at Magdalena's face and then at the hatchling, wincing. "I'm sorry," she muttered, wide-eyed and tongue-tied, wondering what had so profoundly touched her friend. Then it dawned on her, and she peered at Mags, not at first realizing how tactless her words would be. "Did it touch you? I'm so sorry." Then she swallowed, cursing herself for her words. Not sure if she could speak, Magdalena nodded. Touched her, yes, she had done that, though it seemed like it had been more than just a touch. "Mags, can I do anything?"

What Derf could possibly do, though, she didn't know. Go back in time and never tell her about the dragons? No, she didn't even want that. She didn't honestly know what she wanted, now, it was just too hard to think.

A hand closed on Derfegertz shoulder gently. "Let me," an older woman's voice suggested softly. Magdalena's mother had made her way down the stairs once no one was there to scold her, blue eyes dark and sad. Derf nodded, feeling helpless, and stepped back.

"Magdalena," Mary Saint Claire murmured, kneeling down beside her daughter and touching her shoulder. The girl looked up blankly. "Magdalena, sweetheart, look at me." She focused after a moment, seeing her mother's face, sympathetic as if she somehow understood. For a moment, Magdalena was almost angry-- how could she possibly understand? But she didn't even have the energy for that, and the brief blaze in her eyes crumbled into tears she didn't know she had.

Then, before she knew how they'd gotten there, her mother's arms were around her, rocking her and the lifeless baby in her arms, like Saul still held Kerberos. "Shhh, sweetheart," she heard. "Shhh. I know, love, I know." She tried to say something, but it wouldn't come out as anything but a strangled sob, so she just let herself be rocked while she cried, Cel's soft keening making a sorrowful background to her own grieving.