The world shook around the tiny egg as the intense humming of the dragons caused the walls of of the Hatching Grounds to vibrate. The golden queen had pushed the egg against the wall of the cave. Small eggs happened, and never hatched. That was the way of things. It had been bred into the beasts when they were first engineered. The percentage of the colors and genders did not match up, so there had to be one tiny percent of eggs laid that would never hatch. And his was one.
A young boy watched from the stands. The small egg he had touched when he snuck into the grounds was not moving. He must have harmed the egg, that's all it could be. They would know he had snuck in and they would be furious. He had to do something, anything!
The eggs on the sands hatched. All but the little one were left empty and in pieces. The tiny dragon inside clawed and butted at his prison, but the walls were too thick, and he was too weak. But he had to get out. There was someone waiting for him. The instinct to find the one he would bond his mind to, to find his life mate pushed him on. A wave of desperation flooded through the thick shell. He didn't want to be alone.
The young boy felt the desperation in his soul. His body moved on its own, standing up and racing for the tiny egg on the empty sands. His gaurdian grabbed at his shirt, but the boy slipped through his old fingers. He couldn't hear the old man yelling or see the Weyrleaders racing towards him. He only saw the egg that he know he had harmed. He had to fix things, he had to let the little dragon out.
The dragon inside could hear him running, even through the thick shell. He felt the kick as the offending prison was attacked. Yes, freedom, please. He needed out, now! The food inside the egg that had been keeping him alive was gone and the pains in his stomach was fierce. He called again to the mind outside his shell, but his voice could not get through.
But the kicking stopped and a scream filled up the Hatching Grounds as the Weyrleaders took the boy by the arms and pulled him away from the 'defective' egg. He flailed and cried that he had to get the egg open. He had touched it and he had to make sure the dragon was alright. With body and soul he fought them as he reached for the egg. His mind strained to tell the little dragon that things would be alright, that he would be free.
And his voice got through. The dragon called through the new connection to the boy. The boy told the people dragging him out that he knew the dragon's name and that he was very hungry and needed to get out. The Weyrleaders looked at each other and the boy escaped in their confusion, calling out in his mind that he was coming and would free him.
But the pain in the belly of the infant dragon was too much. Even as the boy scrambled back to the little egg with the thick shell, the dragon lost his fight. Calling on an instinct to rid himself of such an intense pain, the dragon left the darkness of the egg to a blackness he would never return from.
Cradling the now-empty shell in his arms, the boy felt his heart die with his dragon that was never given the chance to live. Outside, not a voice was lifted nor a creeling heard for the egg that never hatched. Small eggs happened, and that was the way of things.
