38. Hatchlings #2
“Aye,” Lyric said, “Of course I have. Some of our bonded riders even keep the names I give them sometimes.” He pointed at the green Aer-Kin.
“That one is Jade.” He then pointed at the largest copper-coloured one.
“This one’s Copper Top, courtesy of the copper scales on the back of its head.
” He then pointed at the turquoise one. “This is Valin.” Next he pointed at the golden one.
“This handsome one is Solus.” Lyric’s face beamed as he finally pointed at the chunky red Aer-Kin that lay fast asleep.
“And this one is Bertha. Don’t tell them, but she’s my favourite. ”
“ Hey! ” Nyra snapped through the Weave.
“Nyra doesn’t approve,” Aeden said.
Lyric turned and smiled at Nyra. “I meant out of the new hatchlings. You know I have a big old soft spot for you.”
Nyra chittered in satisfaction as Aeden chuckled to himself at her jealousy.
“They are beautiful, all of them,” Aeden said.
He gripped the gate tighter, overwhelmed by the knowledge that these magnificent creatures would eventually bond with his peers.
It was still burning hot inside the hatchery, and Aeden removed his blazer, resting it over the top of the gate. “I don’t know how you can cope with this heat.”
“How can you not cope when this is the end result? Little bastards have kept me and Nyra up all night, but it’s absolutely worth it. ”
A cracking noise came from the pen where the other eggs were, and Lyric’s eyes lit up once more. “Come quick, you might get to see one of them hatching.”
He hopped over the gate and into the pen, waiting to see which egg it was.
“I think it’s that one,” Aeden said, pointing to a medium-sized egg in the back corner. It was darker, with a white cracking pattern on the surface. The egg wobbled, confirming that it was the one readying to hatch.
A crack formed on the egg as Lyric stepped in front of it. “The key is to let nature do the work. I’ll only intervene if I have to.”
A section of the egg came away, and a flicker of wet scales shone in the light coming through the window. They were jet-black, shining like they were made from obsidian.
The egg, however, stopped shaking, and Lyric’s body language changed. Suddenly he was more tense, his face a picture of concern.
“What is it?” Aeden asked.
Lyric raised his hand, signalling Aeden to quiet.
Aeden’s own concern rose, and he watched on tentatively, willing the Aer-Kin hatchling to force its way out of the egg. Lyric waited, rolling his sleeves up all the while not breaking his eye contact with the unhatched egg.
“Something’s not right,” he said. He shot forwards and grabbed hold of the outside of the egg, pulling the thick shell apart with his bare hands. He frantically removed as much of the top of the egg as possible until he revealed feet sticking out the top. “It’s breech!” he said.
Aeden looked on, overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness. “What does that mean? ”
“It’s upside down, it happens sometimes.
There’s no way of telling until they hatch.
” He grabbed hold of the Aer-Kin’s legs and forcefully pulled them towards him.
The egg rolled towards him, and Lyric continued pulling until he had coaxed it as far out of the egg as possible.
Letting go, he let the legs drop limply to the floor, then rushed to pry the rest of the egg away from its head.
“ What’s going on? ” Nyra said. “ Is everything okay? ”
“Everything will be okay,” Aeden reassured her, but he didn’t know if everything was going to be just that.
The gloopy sack surrounding the Aer-Kin had popped, and gooey fluid seeped out, matting over the straw. However, a section of it still covered the Aer-Kin’s head.
“Shit,” Lyric said. He clawed away the rest of the amniotic sack and opened the Aer-Kin’s mouth before reaching in and drawing out some of the thick, jelly-like fluid.
He lifted up the hatchling’s head and let it go, but it fell limp.
“Shit,” he said again, rolling the Aer-Kin onto its side.
Leaning over, he started pressing down on it with both hands.
“No you don’t!” He kept pressing down on it over and over again.
An overwhelming urge to help pulled at Aeden’s core. He wanted to step into the pen, he wanted to help Lyric, but he was frozen to the spot. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to help.
Lyric continued trying to revive the newborn hatchling, sweat dripping off his face as he muttered to himself.
“Come on!” he snapped, desperation in his tired eyes.
“No, no, no.” He finally stopped, sitting back on his heels and dropping his head back to look up at the ceiling.
He let out a cry of frustration. When he stopped, tears were pouring down his face as the little Aer-Kin lay motionless, devoid of life .
Aeden’s heart swelled. He wanted to say something to comfort Lyric but knew that in this moment, he just needed to allow him to grieve. The difference between life and death was so thin, so unwavering, so unforgiving. So far, seven Aer-Kin had made it into the world, and one of them hadn’t.