Summer solstice in the valley of Sempa heralded many things; the festivals of splendour and colour, the fresh water fish migrating upstream and trading caravans hauling the freshest of goods across the valley bowl. Most of all it heralded the coming of the highest, proudest creatures of majesty outside the race of men; the dragons - a time the sun reached its zenith and the warmth and love of all the daylight poured through the seasons bounty of eggs, giving the little dragons in their little shells their little heart beats. With that, the years expectations turned from the human young of the village, their hopes and smiles in their hot blood and fair skin, to the yet-unborn offspring - that of the dragons in their bumpy, oddly rubbery casings. In the lit hours, this seasons eight eggs rest upon thatched thickets, basking so serenely under the sun, drinking the starlight greedily.

However, by the night, they are hosted by the adolescent women of Sempa, positioned lovingly beside a roaring coal fire inset of a stone hearth at the heart of large yurt. The heat of the flames gave the eggs their comforting glow ; a nurturing gift from nature, but to Tamaine, whom was the first every night to tend to the eggs, it gave her stifling conditions and sweat upon her brow; not that she minded at all- this was her year. Her season. She was getting her dragon! Just like her Ma before her, and their Ma before them! The beginning of the rest of her life as a dragon rider, a defender of her valley, a hunter, an entertainer. A true daughter of the sky. As she adjusted her last egg, she paused to wipe the sweat from her forehead and a little wetness from her eye; forget the fire blazing inches from her face, she had never felt so full of pride in her life and that fire licked and filled her from head to heart to toe. Sitting back onto her heels, knees feeling the stone a little through the deer hide on the floor, she continued her revelry as often she had; Dragon names.

There was something of a tradition in her family to take the initial letters of their name when their dragons were entitled. Her mother for example, named Sumaine and her dragon Sumador. Her grandmother Terraine and her dragon, Terador. But while she rested, she knew already what the line was likely to be at their debut in The Great Reception, 'step forwards in glory; Tamaine and Tamador!' She wasn't opposed to Tamador but it was fun to fantasise. Firedor? Granidor? Strawidor? Perhaps the naming tradition wasn't a bad thing after all. As fine as she was at carving decals and murals (including those handily crafted around not just the hatchery cradles and yurt but also around their village), she was admittedly poor as a scholar, though she was determined to do her best in the riding training in the future. Better than her brothers at the very least- they had been stuck as smith mates for years as they enjoyed drink and womanising more than they enjoyed learning to hunt. Utterly shameless. Not her though, she was going to be the best of her year, better than the rowdy feminine rabble whom loudly, tactlessly yanked aside the yurt's flapped opening and filed in.

'I knew you'd already be in here, you're always in here' Maudny muttered striding to the furthest of the eggs, dropping to hold it in a deep embrace. 'Trying to make sure they imprint on you first? As if, we'll end up sharing them before they come to you'. Tamaine grinned toothily- she wished they would.

'They'll try and eat you with that face' another added with a sneer, her woven shawl embossed with Umera in gaudy red thread. 'They'd rather die than be stuck looking at your face'. Tamaine drew her eyes towards the fire, avoiding any further eye contact with them. They were always like this but her Ma had told her how to handle them. They will be bored before long, just look to the fire instead she had said.

'You'll be like one of the mad ones - them with the blood on their faces trying to bring back the dead' Keeta whispered sinisterly from her left. The girl had covered her pale face and her egg with her flowing hair, black as pitch. As dark as her humour, even for a girl so young, as snippets of a snarl could be seen between the colourless curtains.

'Iyyaak bluueh maste, maste inn dyuuk a baak' the last of the wretched group began to utter, quietly at first. 'Iyyaak bluueh maste, maste inn dyuuk a baak, auuborivi aaeuh iyya~' she continued, her voice rising, willing and pulling at Tamiane's attention, fixed upon the fanned flames reaching higher towards the ceiling.

'Who is that? Ilamen, is that you!?' a shrill call came from outside the yurt, halting the girl from her foreign chant before the flushed face of a woman parted the flapped material and delivered a scouring stare. 'I have told you before, you are not to read aloud your brother's transcriptions - It is a dangerous hobby.' The late evenings humidity blew in a fresh as the lady drew in, lording over the room and the girls the same. 'The bloodied mad ones are mad for a reason and your brother would do well to remember that.'

'Oh Miss Denty, there is no dead here, why are you afraid?' Maudny complained. She had never feared the Hatchery Keeper, but rather through obnoxious ignorance than bravery - it had probably never crossed her mind that at some point, the portly woman could bar her from the hatchery, and so end her ambitions as a dragon rider.

'Because Maudny, the ground itself is built upon the dead and this is a place of life. Beside these eggs, your future' she emphasised with vim, 'those wicked words have no place.' Silence hung in the air, a piercing gaze cast at the naïve faces around the fire dared them to question the Keeper further. No questions were forthcoming. 'Now enough of this. Are the eggs tended? Then away with you. And apologise to Tamaine also, you mustn't tease her so harshly, you girls can be so unpleasant' she muttered bitterly, ushering them outside into the late evening mugginess. All but the smiling Tamaine whom did not hear the apologies but the words she was always so excited to hear - Beside these eggs, your future.

—

The future came quickly for the adolescents for come the winter, with its blankets of snow, it's biting chill and the baring of trees, the eggs had hatched successfully and eight dragon fledglings joined the Sempa community. One by one, the dragons had broken free of their parents birthed embrace and had taken to embracing their human holders - Ilamen first, with her perilous knowledge. Then Maudny and Umera with their ugly tones and words and finally Keeta, her cruelty on show as she had sneered down her nose at Tamaine as she left with her charge. This left Tamaine safe within the barrier of the yurt away from the antagonising bunch with a quiet broken only by the yapping of the juvenile drakes playing on the floor.

They had hatched not long after that time in summer, before the autumn began and the valley turned from a luscious green to auburn, red and gold. The wind turning cold and stripping the trees bare - The process turning the clocks forwards to now where in Tamaine sat along with the remaining hatchlings. Joyfully and raucously, they nipped, flapped and chased amongst themselves. What fun they had, batch brothers and sisters so new to the world, skittering with petite claws over the stone and hay; the hearth light bathing them still with a comforting embrace to bask in- oblivious to the adoring love of Tamaine, sat on her haunches as she had been for months, waiting and watching with hope as her company, that one might soon turn to her when she called Tamador, or any name she could think. Every time she spoke it were as if they were struck deaf. They lived as if their food, water and milk happened upon them by fate.

​

Continued...