If I thought that preparing Lady Denali for the feast last night was hard, this morning was a nightmare. Nothing was perfect for her, absolutely nothing! Whatever I did with her hair, she hated. Up, down, half-up, curls, or straightened. It made no difference! She had done her makeup twice already, once with a dark palette and once with lighter colors and hated both. Gina, who was tasked with helping her dress, didn’t know how to handle the intricate, foreign clothing. The Eastern continent, though full of beautiful clothes, was notorious for them being incredibly difficult to wear or even get into in the first place. Despite her struggles, Gina was on the more favorable end of the stick when it came to Lady Denali’s vocalizations. Having won her favor yesterday, she was given a bit more leeway than the rest of us when she made mistakes but only a bit. There were times where even she was the occasional receiver of the snaps and “kuras” flying out of Lady Denali’s mouth.

“How can you call yourselves servants when you are unfamiliar with the customs of others! How do you expect to serve foreign guests?” she yelled.

I reached for the brush on the table to begin anew but she beat me to it, throwing it across the room and nearly smacking Eri. Eri let out a squeal and dropped, hands covering her head for fear of another thing flying in her direction.

“If they had let me bring my own servants, I wouldn’t have to deal with these kura noz’to!” And she didn’t stop there but rather breathed in deeply before launching into a rant switching between languages and preventing any of us from getting anything done with her flailing around. Honestly at this rate I was sure she would miss the Bonding Ceremony and unfortunately lose the opportunity to Bond with the Queen. On second thought that didn’t seem like a bad idea at all.

A knock interrupted her tirade and Eri could not have hustled faster to that door then if she had found out that cream rolls had been made in the kitchen. She probably hoped whoever was on the other side would save her from being whacked in the head by anymore flying objects.

“Chieftess Sibilla!” Eri cried out in surprise and was that a hint of relief? I smiled slightly as she quickly bowed and stepped aside, allowing the woman to enter. Sibilla had pulled her dark hair streaked with white up into a tight bun to better show her circlet that marked her position. She was wearing the traditional robe of the Chieftess as well, red trimmed in gold with a dragon broach pinned on the top right. Her once bright blue eyes had dulled with age, becoming gray slowly. They were still beautiful, especially when they flitted about the room sharply and analyzed the wreck Lady Denali was making before landing on me briefly with a hint of warmth and affection.

“The ceremony is to begin shortly, are you ready Lady Denali?” she asked, her eyebrows raising as her gaze slid down to meet that of the now embarrassed young woman who lowered her head in a slight acknowledgement of respect.

“I apologize for the mess, Chieftess. I am not accustomed to your noz’to, so I find that I am often displeased by their performance. I’m running a little behind because of this.” The anger and fieriness that had accompanied her tirade was completely gone, instead she presented a sorrowful front. My eyes narrowed and my hands clenched into fists at my sides as she shoved all the blame onto us despite our efforts.

“Then I must apologize on behalf of my servants. I’ve yet to receive word of someone being so dissatisfied that they would wreck an entire room, but I’m sure that their ineptitude must have been on a magnitude of similarity.” The mildness of Sibilla’s tone did little to hide the rebuke. I was immensely grateful to her for standing up for us even though I knew it was partly because the servants were one of the groups under her authority. It wouldn’t bode well for her reputation if complaints were made.

Lady Denali clenched her fists but said nothing in response. Incredibly wise of her I noted.

“Do hurry, we won’t wait too long for you,” Sibilla finally said before walking back towards the door. “Oh, and, if I hear word of you abusing the servants, we will have problems Lady Denali. Big problems.” She left, closing the door behind her, and leaving us all standing still.

“I can’t wait to be Chieftess,” Lady Denali snarled. She had begun to tremble in rage, and we were all too afraid to approach her for fear of being on the receiving end of the inevitable explosion. Gina braved it first, Geria’s blessings be upon her, and we blanched for her as Lady Denali’s gaze fell upon her with glittering malice. But she didn’t say anything to Gina nor stop her when Gina attempted to dress her again. Barely daring to breathe, the rest of us resumed are positions and began our tasks again. No one wanted to disturb her as she gazed off into the distance with fire in her eyes, her mouth tight and her hands clenched into fists by her side.

*~*

The hatching grounds were set deep into the mountain underneath Dragonspire. Dragons could only enter from the large opening at the base of the mountain, but those who lived in the fortress could enter the seating stands through tunnels carved into the walls surrounding the grounds in a half circle. The hatching grounds were covered in warm, soft white sand that seemed to shimmer and glow. In the middle was a giant sunken circle with the twenty-two eggs nestled in, most slightly covered in sand. The Queen egg lay in the middle, a huge golden egg already symbolizing the color of her scales. Shegil was a little way off from them, not allowed to get close to the eggs now that they were going to hatch yet but refusing to be too far away from them. I was one of the few servants lining the bottom of the stands, standing on the hot sand, and sweating from the heat. It would be my duty to assist any of the girls who secured a Bonding, an honor for the servants who were selected as it was an elevation in position. Instead of being a serving girl, I would be an attendant. I knew it was Ashari who had pulled the strings and landed me here. She really had meant what she told me last night.

The stands were beginning to fill up and the earlier dragons were afforded positions in the tops of the cavern, clinging to ledges or the huge rock-like stalactites that hung from the cave ceilings. It was nerve-wracking for me to be around so many dragons even though I had spent five years at the fortress already. I had never really been around the dragon-related activities within Dragonspire. I was too busy running errands or spending my free time reading and learning things in the library. I wasn’t allowed near the dragons and the riders because I was too young as well. The work required to aid and take care of both were enormous and children could not handle it. That didn’t stop my gift from accidentally hearing a dragon’s thoughts or having my own read at times.

When I was younger, I had thought the voices I was hearing in my head were from my imaginary friends. But when I had spoken about this to my mother, she had stared at me with a sort of horror and relayed the information quickly to my father who promptly after sold me off. He had said I was meant for here anyways before he left. While the whole fortress didn’t know about my gift, there were a few who did. For example, Chieftess Sibilla and Godrick, who had become like secondary parents to me. They had known about it before my arrival since they were the ones who had negotiated my price with my parents. There was also Ashari who had become another sort of guardian. But neither of the three had mentioned to me the Speaker position nor introduced me to our resident Speaker. I couldn’t help but wonder why.

Just then, I felt the softest brush against my mind as a telepathic voice came into focus. Every dragon had a unique mental voice, at least to me. As riders could only communicate with their own dragons, they probably did not think about the differences. I, however, wanted to be sure of who I was speaking to. I was afraid they’d eat me if I offended them otherwise.

The voice attached to this dragon was still young and did not have the pronounced deep tenor or rich tones I often associated with the grown, male dragons. I could recognize it immediately, especially because of the smug amusement radiating from him. It was quite clear this was the dragon I had met yesterday, the one that many feared supposedly. At my thoughts, he expressed a gleeful interest at his perceived reputation among everyone. I promptly blocked him out as he relayed his sadness of how he didn’t get a chance to sample me. I couldn’t help but glance around to see if I could catch sight of hm however, or maybe even his rider.

My searching gaze was brought back to the middle as the tributes began to emerge from the doors at the bottom near Shegil, walking in a single file line to the nest and surrounding it slowly. The majority wore the traditional robes expected of tributes in the Bonding Ceremony, blue trimmed with white. But there were a few who wore other things, like Lady Denali, and I wondered if it was a tactic to attract the dragons to them since their attire easily stood out. Lady Denali’s clothes were the most interesting to me because they had little mirrors sewn into the fabric and when the light from the sand and surrounding torches hit them, they glittered and sparkled. It was a great beacon of attraction and I’m sure she was also the talk of the stands as she was amongst the whispering servants near me. When the tributes were all in position, we waited for the hatching to commence. There was no speeding up the process, we would have to be patient until the hatchlings decided to come out. It could take minutes, it could take hours, or it could even take days. Every clutch was different, but the average time was between half an hour to two hours for them to begin.

As fifteen minutes passed, it was no surprise that there was a lot of movement on the stands as people got up to move and stretch or talk to those they knew. Even us servants were fidgeting about, not moving too much, but at least shifting back and forth to relieve the pain of standing for so long. Despite my feet adjusting to the heat of the sands underneath my shoes, the rest of my body found it unbearable. I felt like I was melting as I wiped the sweat beading on my forehead.

Shegil hadn’t moved a single muscle, her multi-faceted gold eyes had remained fixated on her clutch. I gentled reached out and touched her mind and felt the warmth and maturity of the old Queen envelop my own. She was anxious for her eggs to hatch and Sibilla’s calmness was the only thing keeping her rooted to her spot. I gave her as much positive encouragement as I could muster before severing my thoughts from hers, sighing at the slowness of the event. This was so boring!

“It’s your first time, right?”

I glanced to my right and saw an older female servant, early twenties I judged, looking down at me with a knowing smile.

“Yes,” I replied, “how much longer do you think it’ll be?”

She shrugged, looking back at the eggs. “We never know, though personally I think it’ll be at least another fifteen. None of the eggs have twitched even a little.”

“Oh.” I didn’t really know what else to say that wouldn’t convey my disappointment in a better way.

She laughed before introducing herself. Her name was Marigold, and this was her second time at a hatching.

“Wait, shouldn’t you already be helping someone then?” I asked.

“I wasn’t a servant down here, but one of the ones serving those in the stands with refreshments. Ashari made sure I got a spot here though this time.”

Ah, so Ashari wasn’t just pushing for me, but she had various others as well. I filed that tidbit of information away for future reference.

“Oh, I wasn’t even serving the stands,” I said, feeling a little self-conscious in front of her.

“That’s no surprise, how old are you? Fourteen? Fifteen?” At my lack of immediate response, she put a hand to her mouth. “Surely not younger?”

I shifted uncomfortably under her examination before admitting I was ten. “But I will be eleven soon!” I added in defensively as she stared at me with wide eyes, her hand still covering her mouth.

“You’re ten and you’re down here? That’s unusual,” she murmured and frowned. “How did you even get a position down here? Usually, this honor is reserved for special servants.”

I hesitated. I didn’t know if I should let her know that Ashari was also the reason I was allowed to be down here. “I was just sent here by Mistress Ashari,” I finally said.

“Oh, so you are also a favorite of Mistress Ashari?” She tilted her head, studying me again. “Are you her…child?”

My mouth dropped open in surprise. I suppose the conclusion wasn’t too far out of the realm, but still!

“No, no. I’m not her daughter. I came to Dragonspire five years ago. My parents live in one of the villages near the fortress.”

“Oh, I see! You’re very mature for being so young!” she exclaimed, giving me a wide smile.

I returned her smile awkwardly. “Thank you?”

Before she could respond, the crowd grew excited, and the dragons began to hum in anticipation. My eyes immediately went to the clutch of eggs that were slowly beginning to rock and shake. It was time.

For the first time in a long time, I began to feel childish wonder bubble up in me. The hushed silence of the crowd, the hum of the dragons, and the eggs shaking created a spell-like trance on me as I watched eagerly for the first hatchling to escape. No one paid mind to the tributes. Some had begun trembling with fear and others…in excitement.

Suddenly, the humming gave way to a high-pitched keening and that is when Shegil made her move. Some of the tributes immediately moved back from the clutch of eggs, anticipating what was to come while others stayed rooted to the spot in fear.

“What’s happening?” I whispered in confusion. I had never seen a hatching, nor did I know what happened during the process. Why was Shegil approaching the eggs?

Marigold glanced down at me distractedly. “Oh, right you don’t know. She’s going to hatch them now,” she whispered back.

Some of the tributes that had backed up had quickly run back to pull their fellow tributes away, putting as much distance as possible between them and Shegil who now sat by the eggs with her snout lowered to them. She nudged the shaking eggs gently before raising her head and that’s when I saw the red glow in her chest.

“She’s going to breathe fire on them?!” I shouted in alarm, wanting to immediately leave the sands. I’d like to think that compared to others of my age, I had a healthy dose of fear and common sense that has kept me alive throughout these years and currently both were screaming danger. I ignored the heads of those who swung to look at my outburst in both confusion and irritation. If they wanted to be roasted by Shegil fine by me, I didn’t!

Marigold had a slightly amused smile spread across her face. “That’s how they hatch, silly. The mother breathes a gentle fire over the eggs, warming the area and helping to soften the hard shell. It makes it easier for the hatchlings to escape.”

She spoke with a confidence that clearly showed the experience of a person who had witnessed hatchings before. Or maybe common sense. Or maybe even just grown-up things. I wasn’t quite sure which it was, but I had already taken a few steps back, feeling the cavern walls against my back. I watched as indeed Shegil did just that, breathing fire over the eggs in what I guess would have been the closest to gentleness that fire-breathing could get close to. The heat in the grounds, already unbearable, rose even more and I could feel the waves of heat around me as if I had been shoved into one of those stone ovens to roast slowly. I began to feel light-headed, my throat felt dry, and my skin stung. I slid down the wall, landing on my butt with a thump and stirring the sands around me as I began to pant but my eyes never left the fiery display.

“Drink this,” a familiar voice spoke near me. I turned my head slightly and glanced up. Marigold stood there, a look of worry and concern on her face as she held a waterskin in her hands. How did she get this? I didn’t know nor did I protest when she opened the waterskin and urged me to drink again. The refreshingly cool water helped, if only temporarily.

Shegil had stopped and I could tell Sibilla was forcing her away from the eggs. She let out a small keen but followed the orders, forced to exit the grounds altogether now. There could be no risk of the hatchlings Bonding to their mother over the tributes. It would be a terrible loss as that type of Bonding would not save their lives. Together, Marigold and I watched the first of the hatchlings escape the now softened eggs. At first, the egg began to dimple and then collapse, a slit appearing on the shell. From the slit emerged the head that stayed like that for a few seconds.

“Taking their first breaths of fresh air,” Marigold answered my unspoken question. I could see the wetness on the head, even from my distance. “That wetness is the amniotic fluid,” she murmured to me. While this hatchling simply remained with their head poking out of the shell, its siblings were far more eager to escape. A dark blue one had burst out of the shell completely, attempted to stand and promptly collapsed with a chirp of distress.

The tributes had gone as far back as they could and only a few were attempting to approach the hatchlings bravely. One of the male tributes approached the dark blue hatchling, hand extended palm-up as he was taught. The blue dragon clumsily got to its legs, stumbled forward, tripped on its wing, and lunged forward in attempt to balance. He connected with the man’s arm and there was a scream of pain as red flowed from his arm and the hatchling cried out in distress and fear. It wasn’t just this male who was being savaged by the hatchlings, other tributes were also being mauled. The screams were so agonizing to hear and very prominent now that the adult dragons had ceased their humming. It made my stomach churn.

“Oh Geria,” I whispered, feeling nauseous at the display.

“It’s never pretty, but look,” Marigold said, pointing at one of the hatchlings who was staring into the eyes of another male tribute. “They’re Bonding.”

Indeed, the pair didn’t blink as they stared into each other’s eyes. Others were also beginning to Bond amidst the carnage, and I struggled to see if the Queen had hatched yet. Amidst the shells of the eggs in the middle of the nest, the golden egg lay nestled still, unmoving.

“Why isn’t she hatching?”

Marigold frowned, not responding. I could tell from her tense expression that this was unusual. Lady Denali, who had patiently waited on the outskirts of the activity with her eyes fixated on the golden egg had finally begun to move towards the nest. We watched with bated breath as she treaded carefully to not disturb the hatchlings or Bondings taking place. The golden egg began to rock as she got closer and closer with other female tributes also moving towards the middle in a bid to claim the Queen. I could make out Lady Su-Ya, Lady Meryem, and Lady Fatima amongst them. As Lady Denali reached the egg, a slit appeared on its golden shell, and she dropped to her knees with her hands already extended to the emerging golden head. She helped the chirping Queen tear apart her egg, no fear on her expression. There was a sense of purpose about her movements, one that kept the other female tributes from interfering. As the last of the eggshells fell away, she quickly grabbed the golden head before it could even look at the other tributes and forced the newly hatched Queen to stare into her eyes. There was no struggle as the hatchling stared at Lady Denali with adoration. The male dragons roared in ceremonious triumph. The new Queen had found her Bonded.