Jeriacor felt horribly small and easy to overlook, in the midst of the huge mass of candidates, sponsors, audience, Nidus authorities, and-- last but certainly not the least-- most of the clutches' parents. It was crowded, and loud, and it was chaotic enough in the Nidus's central bowl and gardens even before the hatchlings started actually breaking shell. He was glad he'd not had time to grab up his newly-hatched flitter before he ran out here. Little Ivy, even though he was only a day old, had already made it clear he didn't like crowds.

Well, Jeri didn't like crowds, either. He'd made it out here among the first of the comers, after the shout of "hatching", because he'd shifted into his full animal form and made it out above everyone's heads. Now, almost an hour later, standing in human form on the hot sands-- and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as the heat scorched through the thin soles of his boots-- he felt dwarfed, buffeted, and sweaty in the press of people. He kept wishing he'd left his vest in the novo apartment, or maybe left his shirt back in the novo apartment and just worn his vest, or most of all that he was perched high up one of the trees overlooking the hatching ground, so he wasn't surrounded by people and dragons and whatever else was out here with him, waiting for the clutch to hatch and bondings to be made.

Really, who could tell if any eggs had hatched, in this mess? Jeri couldn't see anything except anxious mothers and larger candidates, and the occasional harried-looking scribe-sort running around trying to write things down or get a better view, himself. There had been a few shouts and murmurs among people who could see above the rest's heads, but the excitement of the audience was one loud wash of sound that seemed to overwhelm any meaning from the sands themselves. So how was he supposed to know what was going on? It was frustrating.

::Maybe you'll find out when someone bonds you,:: came an entirely unexpected voice from somewhere off to his left.

Jeriacor whirled in surprise and found a hatchling approaching him with eyes whirling in green with sparks of gold and aqua. He was a dark brown sort of color, but when it stepped out of the shadow of one of the other candidates and into a patch of sunlight, he was brightly metallic-- bronze. Jeri had done some research over the past two days he'd spent here, waiting for the hatching, and he knew a lot more about dragon breeds now than he had before. Judging from the head knobs and clubbed tail, one of this hatchling's parents was what was called Old World, a species a lot like Geperna dragons, color-ranked and telepathic. Bronze was a high rank, the highest you could get if you were male. And the spines on his back, and the globes between them, marked the father, a rare species called a Zuruihebi. The hatchling was both high-ranked and rare, and he was talking to him. Jeri smiled.

::There's more important things than rank and color,:: the hatchling said, sounding reproving.

"I know that," Jeri replied, a little stung and a little embarrassed. Being scolded by a baby...!

::Good, then....:: The hatchling closed the distance between them, leaning against his legs, sticky hide clinging to his trousers, and the twin spikes on his shoulders pressing into his thigh. ::We'll be all right, if you remember that.::

Jeri found his hand drifting down to rest on the hatchling's upraised muzzle. "Does that mean...?" he asked, trailing off.

::Yes. I'm Arkheth.::

If Arkheth hadn't been leaning against him, Jeriacor might have staggered. He was telepathic enough to feel the bond as it formed, and on top of the sudden influx of feeling both his own and not his own, he felt decidedly weak in the knees. He kneeled carefully in the sand, ignoring the sting of its heat-- it wasn't as bad as it had been, after an hour of being mostly shaded by the horde of candidates, and besides, this was more important than burned knees-- and let Arkheth nuzzle him on the chin, then climb into his lap. The stickiness wasn't so bad; he could always wash his clothes. The spikes, with the floating globes between them, were a little tricky, but they managed to get comfortable without poking anyone in uncomfortable places.

It was... strange. And good. No, more like wonderful. Jeriacor had never had anyone so close to him before who was still so accepting, other than Altrina, and she had to love him, because she was his sister. Arkheth was different. He'd sought him out, knowing nothing about him except what he'd found in his head-- and at that minute, that was hardly the most pleasant he'd ever been: irritable, impatient, nervous, anticipatory, and even competitive-- and chosen him, anyway. And accepted him, now and forever, even the bad parts. And wanted him to be happy. No one had ever really wanted him to be happy, not if it meant they wouldn't be happy, or someone more important to them wouldn't be happy.

Well, for Ankheth, there really wasn't anyone more important. And that was different and strange and wonderful, itself. Jeri had to try hard not to cry, especially when Ankheth told him he didn't mind if he cried, because if he could have, he might have cried, too.

They sat there in the sand for a long time, and candidates and sponsors, slowly pairing off, drifted away, clearing the sands a little. There were still hatchlings wandering around, looking for bonds or guardians, but they were dwindling in number. Jeri finally realized Arkheth was hungry-- there were sparks of orange in his eyes, which seemed to change color with his mood; he remembered that about Old World dragons, now that he thought about it-- but he was quick to say that he could wait until Jeri was ready to get up. "I'm ready," Jeri assured him, and after surreptitiously wiping his eyes, he struggled to his feet, Arkheth coming with him because he might have been ready to get up, but he wasn't quite ready to let him go yet, too.

::Oh, oh, wait, wait, don't go yet!::

Jeri stopped and blinked in surprise. There, galloping across the sand, was a pale blue-white little dragon, with a golden mane and eyes, and stripes on his tail. Blankly, Jeri guessed at his parentage: probably the metal elemental Mythicalaean, judging from the thickly scaled hide; and since the other father of that clutch was all spiny, this one was probably sired by the avyndal.

Ankheth looked down at him with warily gray and violet eyes. ::Who are you?:: he demanded.

::I'm Odiwa Ra'lu,:: the white hatchling introduced himself, coming to a stop with a spray of sand right in front of him. If he didn't know better, Jeri would have thought the hatchling had actually struck a pose. He added indignantly, ::And you've got your paws all over my chosen!::

This time when the bond hit, Jeriacor went down a little less controlledly. He wound up on his rear in the sand, Ankheth slipping into his lap rather than in his arms, staring at the source of the second mind attached to his. This one was as different from Ankheth's calm, loving acceptance as could be: detail-oriented, high-strung, and emotional-- and proud, vain, and just as competitive as Jeri, himself, though in a less irritable and competitor-focused fashion. He was, Jeri realized slowly and with a little embarrassment, very much a match to himself.

::Are you okay?:: Odiwa asked, with some measure of concern, as his new bond just stared blankly at him. ::Come on, say something! Aren't you happy to see me?::

"Uh," Jeri managed, then shook himself. "Yeah. Yeah, of course I am."

The hatchling beamed. ::Oh, good! We're going to be perfect-- the best pair ever! You're smart and magical and special, and look at me, I'm a rare!:: He wriggled excitedly, sounding positively gleeful at the statement. ::We'll just be the best, together, I know it! --Uh, excuse me, who are you?::

That was when Jeri realized Ankheth had his teeth bared, eyes sparkling with reds and oranges and whites. Anger, protectiveness, and-- fear? "Whoah, whoah, Ankheth, it's okay!" he hurried to assure the hatchling. "Odiwa, this is Ankheth. He bonded me a while ago...."

Owida, who looked a little hurt at Ankheth's animosity, nodded vigorously. ::Okay. Hi, Ankheth.::

There was a reluctant pause before Ankheth let his lips fall and said, grudgingly, ::Hi.::

As Jeri carried one bond and led the other off the sands and over to the crowded feeding tables, the thoughts were very jumbled around in his head confusedly. He was happy-- he'd bonded, and both his bonds seemed to like him, a lot-- and he was worried-- while both his bonds liked him, Ankheth didn't seem to like Odiwa at all, which understandably seemed to bother Odiwa-- and he was proud-- he'd bonded twice, by two highly ranked and rare sorts of dragons.

One final thought occurred to him before he forced his attention on getting through the mass of hatchlings, bonds, and sponsors to get at the meat for his new friends.

Rowan was going to be so jealous.

Nidus Avengaea's Copper Frenzy

The Hatching

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