The time is now, the day is here

Writers: Corrin, Estelle
Date Posted: 10th October 2025

Characters: Sybana, L'keri
Description: Galgaith’s first clutch hatches under ominous skies
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 12, day 14 of Turn 12

Sybana

L'keri

It was a dark day.

Thunder rolled over the mountains as lightning laced the clouds. Wind whipped, the rain fell in torrents, feeding the main waterfall of the weyr to a roar and birthing several others. Yet beneath the cacophony of the storm rose a deeper, stranger rumble, resonant and rich. Not thunder. Dragons.

It was time for Galgaith’s eggs to hatch.

---

The young gold shifted restlessly beside her clutch as the stands began to fill and the candidates fanned out across the sands. After nearly a month of solitude in the cavern, the growing crowd grated on Galgaith’s senses, but something deep inside of her that was half instinct and half Sybana whispered that this was Important. So she continued to hum to her children, to encourage them into the waiting world.

Up in the stands, Sybana sat in a place of honor beside L’keri, as painfully pretty as a picture in a gown of green and gold-- and utterly miserable, only she was too well-bred to show it. Still, her posture was too perfect and her smile brittle for all that it shone. She felt exposed, caught in the press of eyes-- a thing that had never before bothered her, but that was when she assumed the admiration of others, not the reproach.

She turned away from the sad little clutch of eggs, away from the scrutiny of the crowd, to L’keri-- and for a moment the mask slipped and she was just a girl of nineteen, scared of being scolded. “Well… this is it.”

In his own way, L'keri was as uncomfortable as the gold's rider, though he'd rather have died than admit it. The first wave of relief when the dragons had begun their welcoming hum and he'd known the eggs _would_ hatch had given way to nerves as soon as he'd entered the hatching grounds and someone had pushed him towards the stand reserved for the riders of the clutching pair. He was used to watching Hatchings in the company of his wingmates, laughing and betting on colors and pairings, cheering for relatives and pretty girls and anticipating the celebration to come. Across the Sands, he could see the faces of the dignitaries, visiting Lords and Weyrleaders, and though he couldn't see their expressions he could imagine the disapproval. As for the feast, the less he thought about that, the better.

But all that was forgotten when Sybana turned to him, and he remembered what he'd promised her. He'd said he would be here for her all the way, and he wasn't going to let her down now.

"This is it." His smile was all delight and anticipation, wide and untroubled. "Rhalith is going to be a clutch sire! You can't imagine how proud he is today. We never thought this could ever happen to us." The humming intensified, and he had to raise his voice to be heard over the sound as it echoed from the cavern walls. "I know it's not been easy, but - I'm so glad you chose us."

His smile was infectious. She returned it, despite her fears, and felt some of the worry fade. “You make everything lighter,” was the best she could admit before the humming blotted out all speech.

---

The humming rose and rose, reverberating through the cavern as the eggs rocked and webbed with cracks. Finally the first hatchling broke through, staggering out onto the hot sands. A green, large, but green all the same. She shook herself free of her shell like a wild thing, eyes whirling hot with hunger and will. She made her way out to the ring of candidates, her steps clumsy but almost predatory with purpose as she stalked-staggered past the figures in white until she lunged into the legs of--

--one of the holdless.

}:I choose you, Kavalas.:{ said Sazikoth as she clambered over the man. }:You’re mine!:{

Sybana’s heart sank. The first Impression, and to one of _them_. She recognized the brute by his thick beard and wild hair, by the way he stuck far closer to Aegaryn than was proper. And now Sybana wagered she could pick out the rest of the holdless lurking among the candidates-- they were the only ones that really cheered the green’s choice. The reaction of the audience was mild, far milder than a first Impression would normally warrant as people craned their necks, trying to place his face. Kavalas had no friends or family here.

That tepid reception was sharply contrasted by the next set of Impressions. First, a small, steely blue fumbled his way into a trio that, by their resemblance, had to be siblings. There was some confusion as they all stepped forward to meet the dragonet, but soon enough one of the boys announced him to the audience as Nangath and the pair were met with a hearty roar of approval.

"Oh - I think that's one of Xu'ma's triplets!" L'keri had applauded warmly enough for the new greenrider - everyone deserved a welcome to the ranks of the dragonriders, even holdless people - but his enthusiasm rose as the blue made his choice. "He used to be a Dragonsfall rider, moved to Barrier Lake when it opened but he's still got family here. The kids aren't full siblings, different mothers. Maybe that's why he made a run for it," he added with a glint of humor in his eye. "Good guy, though. About time one of them Impressed! He'll be pleased with a handsome blue like that one--"

Just then the thunderous bellow from a dragon in the heights drowned out the end of L’keri’s sentence. While the audience had been distracted by the siblings vying for the steely blue, bronze Kyverth had been tracking the awkward progress of a rotund green hatchling as she neared one of His People. He was right to watch and was the first to bellow his approval as Yvase stepped forward to help her Teriath when the green tripped over her own wings.

L'keri knew that dragon voice all too well, and for one nervous instant he wondered what he'd done to be yelled at by his Wingleader's bronze in the middle of a Hatching. But it sounded more delighted than otherwise, and when he glanced back to the Sands, he saw why. His heart leapt, and with it he jumped up and punched the air.

"Yes! Alpine Wing! Go Yvase!" Remembering suddenly that he was supposed to remain calm and dignified as befitting the rider of the clutch sire, he collected himself and turned to Sybana, still beaming. "Sorry. That's L'val's daughter, my Wingleader. I was hoping she'd Impress. Shells, that little green is adorable, isn't she?"

“Very adorable,” agreed Sybana, but the words felt fragile on her lips.

Over a third of the clutch had hatched now, spilling out blues and greens. She was beginning to fear that was all there would be when finally there came a break in the pattern. One of the largest eggs finally cracked and a big brown shouldered his way free of the shell-- but any joy Sybana felt about that quickly drained as he barreled directly towards where she’d deduced the holdless were standing, chasing down a boy who in turn was pursuing a sleek blue that clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

The brown caught his boy by the back of his robe, teeth tearing into the fabric as he jerked him to a halt. }:Stop that, Mesarian!:{ Nazoth demanded. }:Don’t you see that I am _here_?:{

"Huh. I did not bet marks on that one getting a brown." L'keri raised an eyebrow at the new pair. "Ah - I mean, I didn't bet at all. On anyone... Never mind," he finished, hoping she hadn't noticed.

By then the sleek blue had reached his own target, another holdless-- a _girl_. “His name is Oriveth!” Hesbia shouted to her sister in the stands as the weyr reeled and a third female bluerider joined the ranks of Dragonsfall.

After that excitement it was back to blues and greens again. One seemed particularly restless, snapping at her sisters as she wandered the sands on wobbly legs. Each time she reached the ring of candidates she turned back with a flick of her tail, apparently dissatisfied.

Sybana watched her progress with mounting concern. “Should we-- can’t we do something?”

L'keri watched as a group of visitors - holders, by the looks of them - broke into applause as one of their own, a lean dark-haired young man, sank to his knees beside a sturdy blue, the colour of a clear winter sky, and called out “Elamith!” He followed Sybana's gaze to the green. "She looks strong yet," he reassured her, suppressing a spike of concern. "She's just taking her time. There's plenty of Candidates, perhaps she can't make up her mind."

Just then the green approached the ring for a third time-- this time she pushed through, shouldering past Tiyo without even a flicker of interest. She didn’t seem distressed now, just determined as she waddled her way up to the base of the sparse, half-empty section where the holdless who had not joined the weyr sat, shunned.

}:_There_ you are, Rathandra,:{ Morivath said, relief in her mindvoice, but a sharpness too. }:Come down at once!:{

Sybana’s initial alarm that the dragonet might die matchless on the sands twisted and changed as she watched yet another holdless wilding claim one of Galgaith’s children. Another! While there were still so many honest weyrfolk and holders and crafters to choose from!

It’s little comfort when a second brown hatches and goes to a candidate she dimly recognizes as Lemhask, one of the weyrlingmaster’s sons. By now, by her internal count, almost all the eggs had hatched and at least a third had been snapped up by the holdless one way or another. She shuddered to think of the sort of riders _they_ would make. How could a pack of murderers and thieves -- or the children raised by them -- be trusted with firestone, with wings, with the freedoms and powers of Between?

She took barely any notice of the last few eggs to hatch, consumed as she was in her thoughts, until the collective gasp of the crowd and a startled exclamation from L’keri made her look up in time to see the last two shells give way together: a green and a _bronze_.

The bronze was magnificent, dark as burnished metal along the back, with undertones of old gold and flickering brass. He gleamed as thought lit from within. Sybana’s breath caught and she grasped L’keri’s hand in excitement. A bronze! A bronze for their small clutch! She leaned forward, willing him to choose Well.

Despite himself, and all his many Turns of mocking the self-importance of bronzeriders and staunchly supporting his brown, blue and green wingmates, L'keri felt a sudden and unexpected pride. He'd not even thought that there would be a bronze among the fifteen, and he had to admit this was a handsome one, stepping from the shattered remains of his shell with all the confidence of a young Lord. Besides, he could tell Sybana was thrilled, and he hoped that perhaps this one hatchling would make up for all she’d endured since Galgaith’s rising.

**Choose a good rider,** he wished Rhalith's little bronze son. There were a few decent bronzeriders out there, after all. **Someone who's not too arrogant or hidebound, who knows how to have fun. Someone who'll make you happy.**

Several male candidates surged forward, jockeying for a place before the bronze, getting in each other’s way by accident and design. A couple fell-- or possibly were tripped -- and the bronze found his match in the first young man to reach him.

Sybana froze in horror as she watched holdless Naldhavi Impress Galgaith’s shining son. It was hard to think after that, hard to care, even as the final green hatchling nuzzled one of the fallen boys to rise. Of all the holdless, it had to be _that_ one.

In the end, there were fifteen new dragons for the weyr. All healthy, all paired. There was something to celebrate, but Sybana’s thoughts were as dark as the storm.

Last updated on the October 18th 2025

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The time is now, the day is here