Finally, it was time! They had all been briefed on what to expect on Hatching Day, but only Keung seemed prepared for the trumpeting when it cut over any other noise. He'd seen action on the field, had spent much of his life preparing for real violence. Even with his leg as it was, he was able to change into the smock provided for novos, to give his hair a quick knot to keep it out of his scarred face. Only the tarnished laureate over his ears nodded at his stature. He would prove himself. He'd prove he could handle whatever was thrown at him. He could prove that he'd do better than any human with whatever lumbered its way over to latch into his brain. This wasn't just a gambit for him, the way he knew it was for Keshon. A dragon would raise him up, if he did well enough to it in return. He was terrified, but he showed none of it.

Kenzou had mended his smock from two others, for he was a lot larger than most novos, and needed room to fit his horns through, besides. Keshon, having deigned to wear such an awful piece of clothing, had spent all of his time bribing adornments to be added, though he perhaps looked the silliest of them for having attempted to ruck an outfit into something that suited his lithe body.

They all three of them joined the queue of novos being hurried directly into the hatching cavern. They'd just passed onto the hot sands, finally setting foot in the arena they'd so far only been able to view from afar, when a shrill whistle called their attention to a stranger in the stands overlooking their entryway.

It was another Aigard, this one completely unfamiliar. He was pale as parchment, wearing equally pale clothing in a style not at all familiar. He waved, pointed, which was incredibly rude. He gestured them to hurry over, which was worse.

Keshon broke eye contact with the stranger to look to his brothers, and all three pushed out of the queue to stand below and before the stranger. Keshon took one step forward, and neither Keung or Kenzou fought him for his position.

"Greetings from Garandezwarden," Keshon said, offering a lighter bow than might usually be necessary, by dint of their place so low below the man.

"Greetings from the Shadow Lord's demesne," the stranger replied, grinning too widely. "So you're finally doing it, are you?"

Keshon, wary, tilted his head just a little. "If by 'it' you mean bonding to dragons? That was the deal, was it not?" All politeness, but a hint of an edge limned his words.

"Oh yes," the stranger said. "The Lord is looking forward to your results. He's even bet upon them." He looked down on Keshon and raised one brow. "It's likely to be blue for you, little man."

Keshon knew enough about the ranks of dragons based upon the colour of their hides to puff up about the insult, but he restrained himself.

In the intervening silence, Keung stepped forward. "How does the Lord propose to help us once the deed is done?"

"So direct!" The stranger leaned on the railing, propping his chin on his hand. "That's unbecoming for a brat of a Konik. I like it." He made a show of thinking, leaving the brothers non-plussed as he hemmed and hawed. "Well, depending on what little devils you pull from those broody monsters over there, we may have more or less to work with. I've already got a few volunteers, but your old man had some delightfully ironic plans that couldn't be ignored. So, here you are."

He looked directly at Keung, then, and flicked his finger. "No use in being impatient, though, Keung. You know how that worked out the last time." He smiled an oily smile as the marred brother sputtered.

Returning his awful, icy gaze back to Keshon, the stranger said, "your enemy is an interesting foe. She's patient. She's timeless. She is absolutely corrosive to everything you know and hold dear, and she will be for your children, and your children's children, and your children's children's children." He held his hands up when Keshon moved to silence the growing pedantry.

"What my Lord believes," and now he leaned further over the rail, unbecoming for even a servant with his enthusiasm, "is that the only way to win against such a well-equipped adversary is to probe at her weaknesses, distract her, make her stumble. To change the rules of the game. She has beaten you soundly at the numbers game. She's even turned your numbers against you."

Keshon spoke, for Keung was still bristling. "That is true."

"Well then, if you want to learn how to change the rules out from under her, go rejoin your little brigade of babysitters. When you're ready, you'll receive an invitation... with a few others, to meet the Lord directly."

"Hold on," Keshon held out placating hands. "There are terms our father agreed to that we have not been privvy to."

"Ah, and you think you can haggle? That's nice."

Kenzou put a hand each on the shoulders of his brothers, feeling the tension and disgust in them growing, nearing a tipping point. In their fervour, they hadn't heard the first egg hatching, the murmur of the crowd as the hatching had begun.

"Do your daddy proud, sons," the stranger said, flapping a bit of cloth after them. "And make your Lord some coin!"

"We should go," Kenzou rumbled. He squeezed Keung's shoulder harder when it became apparent that he was unlikely to back away from this confrontation.

Keshon, at least, took a slow breath, and nodded stiffly at the stranger. He turned and headed for the throng of novos. Keung followed suit. Kenzou cast one last, skeptical look at the stranger, who gave him a wink along with that oily grin. Feeling played at his own game, Kenzou followed after.

Whatever happened next, they had more important things to deal with in the moment.

To be continued after the official Ryslen Tri-Court Hatching!