4. The Hatchery
M aster Ember stood at the front of the group, waving his hands in the air to get all of the students’ attention that were gathering around.
The problem was, Master Ember couldn’t have been much over five feet tall by Aeden’s estimation.
“Gather round, gather round,” he said as he continued to wave his hands around.
He had a deep, grumbling voice, and at this distance, Aeden could see his enlarged eyes thanks to the thick lenses on his glasses.
“I am here for those of you who are scheduled to attend the hatchery for your first lesson. By my understanding, this should be everyone in the Support class. I know Director Vale explained that classes will be mixed, but it’s best not to at the hatchery.
It can confuse the eggs, especially when it comes to bonding.
So if you are not a Support class, please make your way back through the courtyard and towards the Great Hall.
There you will meet some of the faculty who will show you where it is you need to go for your first lessons.
The rest of you from the Support class, follow me.
” Master Ember turned and set off back towards the courtyard.
The group followed, passing by a large outhouse building.
It was stone at the base to form the foundations, but the rest of it was made of glass panels, a trail of ivy stretching across the roof.
Inside there was a class underway filled with students who were standing around large potted plants that were lined up in front of them.
They past a couple more outbuildings and a creepy looking courtyard that was strangely quiet.
It was similar to the one at the rear of the main academy building, with strange statues of cherubs and gargoyles in various formations, pointing bows and arrows or staring menacingly into the distance.
Aeden took the opportunity to take in the vast surroundings and boundaries of the academy, realising it would take him months to figure out where everything was.
They continued until they eventually reached a large building that was not attached to the rest of the academy grounds.
It sat alone, and although it looked just as Gothic as the rest of the academy, it was surrounded by a large stone wall that must have stood at least thirty feet tall.
At the top of the wall, barbed wire was tangled around itself to form a trap for anyone seeking to climb over.
Aeden realised that his own parents had probably walked this same path countless times.
He made a mental note to keep his eyes open for anything – or anyone – who might be able to help him uncover the truth about their deaths.
But if his suspicions were true, he also knew he couldn’t draw too much attention to his investigation, so he would have to play it smart.
At the entranceway stood a couple of rough-looking guards, clad in black and carrying polearms from what Aeden could tell.
Each weapon had a large, crescent moon-shaped blade at the end.
The guards all wore expressionless faces.
This was the hatchery to the prestigious Aviara Academy; it made sense that there would be armed guards protecting the Aer-Kin eggs.
“Damien, Galen,” Master Ember said as he nodded to the two of them.
The guards stepped to the side and allowed Master Ember and the group to enter.
It was the first time Aeden had seen a weapon since arriving at the academy.
He had known there would be guards around, especially around the hatchery, so it didn’t come as a surprise.
Aeden knew he couldn’t comprehend the value of one Aer-Kin, let alone a hatchery full of them.
Master Ember turned to face the Support class when he reached the entranceway to the building.
It resembled a giant barn, except that it was made from black stone.
There was a farmyard smell that Aeden had already noticed as they were approaching, and he half-expected cattle to be walking around.
It reminded him of home, and he thought of his grandparents, who he already hated being away from.
He swallowed it down, reminding himself of why exactly he was there.
He had no intention of going home before he accomplished what he had come here to do.
Besides, this was the first time in his life that he was going to see a hatchery, and he was beyond excited.
“Now, listen up,” Master Ember started, “this is a live hatchery, so inside you’re going to have to do everything I tell you. I can’t have you messing around inside, we can’t risk any of the eggs getting damaged. Do you understand?”
A collective “yes” from the class confirmed this .
“Master Ember, how many eggs are there inside?” Aeden asked.
“Please, call me Lyric,” he said with a warming smile. “And at present, there are one hundred and sixty-eight eggs at varying stages.”
One hundred and sixty-eight. Director Vale had said there were over three hundred students in this cohort.
Was that really how few they expected to get to the end of the first term?
What’s more, Aeden’s understanding was that a well-established hatchery housed around fifty eggs at a time.
To have so many eggs ready to hatch and in one place was simply incredible.
“Now come on in, we have lots to get through, and I have to do this more times than I would like to over the next two days. Every time I let students in, there’s a risk of it unsettling at least one of the eggs, which can have a devastating effect on them.”
Lyric led the class into the hatchery, and Aeden’s jaw nearly hit the floor when they stepped in.
The centre of the hatchery was open, much like he would have found in a barn, except there were no stalls inside.
On either side of them were tiered rows upon rows containing giant eggs, which were around three to five feet tall.
They came in all different shapes and sizes, some plain, some with spots or other patterns on them, some tall and narrow, some wide and short.
They spanned all the way down to the bottom of the building on either side and were nestled in a thick bed of hay.
Aeden found himself transfixed by the eggs as he examined them with wonder. In front of the eggs was a metal barrier, with the eggs far enough back that none of the students could reach over and touch them.
“Aren’t they just beautiful?” Lyric said. He looked like a proud father as he beamed at all of the Aer-Kin eggs on display. “Those of you that will successfully bond with these eggs are in for a treat. I think this is the best batch we’ve had in years.”
“How can you tell?” Aeden asked, fascinated. Had the eggs not been so far back, he absolutely would have been one of the students to try and touch one.
“A whole multitude of reasons,” Lyric said.
“All of these eggs are emitting an energy, one that connects them to the very weave of magic you will all learn to tap into, not only to bond with your Aer-Kin but also to enhance both theirs and your powers and abilities. Now, before we get started, does anyone have any other questions?”
Nearly every student raised a hand, causing Lyric to look a little overwhelmed. “Ah, I see, well how abouts we get on with the lesson, and if there’s anything I haven’t covered, you can ask me your questions at the end. Now, who can tell me how many species of Aer-Kin there are in the world?”
Around a dozen hands shot into the air.
“One hundred and twenty.”
“Two hundred and fifty-four.”
“Three hundred and seventy-five”
Students kept calling out numbers, and Lyric stood there, shaking his head. “No, no, no, you’re all just throwing random numbers at me . Do any of you actually know the answer?”
Aeden remained with his hand raised in the air .
“Go on,” Lyric said with a deep sigh. “Don’t just throw a random number at me for the sake of it though, okay?”
“There’s four hundred and seventy-seven known species of Aer-Kin. Some might argue that some of the species should be in the same bracket, but yeah, there are four hundred and seventy-seven known species in the world.”
“So close, Master . . .” He waited for Aeden to introduce himself.
It took a moment for Aeden to realise that Lyric was asking him his name. “Aeden Harrington,” he said.
“Well, everyone, Master Harrington here was almost right. There are four hundred and sixty known species of Aer-Kin around the world. As with any creature in the world, some are drawn to certain regions and certain climates. That’s quite a lot, isn’t it?”
That information didn’t sit right with Aeden, and he raised his hand once again.
“Is everything okay, Master Harrington?”
“Yes, it’s just, you said there were four hundred and sixty, species of Aer-Kin in the world, but that’s wrong. Throughout history, these have been recorded, and that would mean there are four hundred and seventy-seven in total.”
Lyric shook his head. “Dearie me, how many bedtime stories were you told as a babe? Because I can tell you that those stories can fill your head with things that simply aren’t true.”
Lyric addressed the rest of the class. “Aeden here is referring to seventeen species of Aer-Kin that simply have never existed. Considered to be nothing more than a fabrication. Now, at our hatchery, we breed certain species of Aer-Kin that will complement their riders as well as the roles that we need them to fulfil. This academy has been bonding riders with Aer-Kin for over seven hundred years, and you are all the latest students to get the opportunity. Each and every one of you are incredibly lucky to be in this position. Can anyone tell me the types of Aer-Kin that you will find being bonded with a Support class?”
“Thorncrown,”
“Barbtail.”
“Ironshell.”
“Stormfang.”
The students started calling out breeds of Aer-Kin at Lyric, overwhelming him once more.