Mercy's next few days went without any events of any sort. The daily life of the weyr seemed oddly uneventful, contrary to every story she had heard from the other weyrs like Benden and the High Reaches. Nothing happened here in the Southern weyr, and that was mainly because of the slow pace the old-timers kept. There where threadfalls, but no one ever went out. Mercy always spotted dragons over the weyr and the land which was used by the weyrfolk, and that area was always completely cleared from thread after a fall. The girl did her very best to stay out of the riders' way, having witnessed a few incidents with bronze and brown riders. The two factions especially seemed to have something against each other, and the bronzes made it very clear that they did not intend to tolerate the browns in their quarters or near the queen. Mercy had never before heard of any weyr with as distinct a separation as the Southern weyr. Usually, the quarters where separated in wings, meaning that bronzes, browns and greens could live side-by-side without any issues. Here it seemed to be very different.
The weyr itself was beautiful, and so were the surroundings. This was a true paradise, but its inhabitants failed to see that, they failed to even notice the colors of the sunrise, or the sunset, they failed to see how the moonlight was reflected by the almost white surface of the buildings. All they thought about were their own intrigues, and Mercy wanted no part in that. She wanted no part in the gossiping group of girls that had been picked as candidates for the eggs, like her, either, and they made no attempt to include her in their group, she actually had a feeling that they were bickering behind her back, and she didn't mind at all. Actually, it made her feel rather like a better person.
A sevenday had passed since her arrival and she was beginning to learn how to find her way around the weyr and the surroundings as well, but she was worrying about Toric – had anyone told him where she was? If he didn't know, he could be worrying, though most likely only because she was a good gatherer. And that made her feel guilty. However, as she didn't wish to meddle and fall into the internal struggles and intrigues of the weyr, she hadn't had the possibility to talk with anyone about these worries. She would have mentioned it to Z'ev if she had seen him, but he seemed to be strangely absent and she hadn't been able to find him since the day he had brought her to the weyr.
The days that passed so quickly suddenly came to a halt one day, around noon, as a sudden silence fell over the weyr. The hatching was about to begin. The queen dragon's growls and trumpeteering could be heard everywhere in the weyr, and all the candidates, including Mercy, were brought to the hatching ground. None of the candidates wore the white robes that were mandatory in all other weyrs, which puzzled Mercy a little. On the other hand, this was not exactly Benden, and the hatching didn't have any resemblance to the grand feasts held when a clutch of Ramoth's hatched. There were no lords and ladies watching, not even any space to sit. It was only the large, circular hatching ground with burning sand and large dark holes as doorways leading from the hatching ground to the rest of the weyr.
When Mercy and the other candidates were herded through one of these doorways, she didn't feel the awe that had been described by some of the riders she had met back in the north. It completely lacked the feeling of being the greatest event that would ever happen in the candidates' lives. There were no families to cheer, no crowd in awe and no dragons circling above, bringing guests to the grounds so that they could witness the event. In other words: The place was totally deserted with the exception of the dragonriders, the candidates and the queen dragon. Mercy was not taken aback the way she had expected, it was quite clear that the old-timers were not used to hatchings anymore, and that they had no intentions whatsoever as to making it the grand event they had had, 400 turns in the past.
All these things went through Mercy's mind in a few seconds, but then she focused on the eggs. They were mostly quite small, seemingly there were primarily brown and green eggs, with the exception of the few larger eggs that were most likely bronzes. Mercy, and the group of quivering girls were led to the largest egg, the one everyone hoped was a queen. The girls immediately began whispering excitedly, but Mercy stood still like a rock. Suddenly, the glimmering egg began tilting as the little dragon began to break free. The girls stopped talking and clutched each other's hands, leaving Mercy out of the group. She didn't mind the least. Within a few minutes, the dragonet broke the shell, though it wasn't a hole large enough to do her any good. She shrieked in annoyance, and then began to expand the hole in other to crawl out of it. The girls watched in silence as the little creature fell out on the sand, but Mercy didn't notice whom of the girls the dragonet made its way towards, nor the cry of disappointment from Mardra, because something nudged her leg in the very instant that the large green dragonet began to move.
She looked down and saw – to her surprise – a seafoam green dragonet. It was relatively large for a green, and its features where elegant and slim, clearly female. Mercy knelt down with a smile and looked the little dragon in the eye. Immediately, she felt an attachment grow, a bond between her and this beautiful creature. In the air above her head, Larith appeared suddenly with a shriek, bidding the little fighting dragon welcome to the 'family'. The dragonet looked up for a moment, but then its gaze fell upon Mercy again, and she spoke in the girl's mind.
"Hello, Mercy. I am Neath."
