Book One: Onnu and Pannu

Hatching Day Festivities

Though they would later celebrate Hatching Day on the day, as best they could, the Holds' first Hatching Days didn't take place for a week after the event (or longer, in the case of Amber and Weaver). It took that long to organize things, and find ways to distinguish the different booths. There weren't enough blankets yet, as the weavers in Blue Hold had prioritized clothing first. Given the baby boom, there were only three blankets between their two Holds that weren't baby sized.
   They tried affixing signs of the trades to the crystals, but nothing would stick to their surface. The only thing they could do, since tables were impractical with the Charon, was to simply splay their projects out in front of them, and sit in the grass. They lined themselves up along the walls of the Hold, to minimize the chance of a hatchling tumbling into their displays.
   Their parents kept a strict eye on the trio, as well, with firm warnings not to get too close. This was met with rebellion, since they couldn't see very far yet. As a compromise, their parents and Marla carried them around the booths, one hatchling per dragon.
   Egg Hold was full to bursting, so the largest dragons had to walk extra carefully. Not only were their home kin visiting, but Marla's did, as well. The winged kin were kept busy ferrying kin to and from their Holds, while parents and babysitters were swapped out to join the festivities.
   Even Steel, Amber, and Weaver paid brief visits. After all, Clay, Harvey, and Dean had spent the entire week leading up to Hatching Day stuffing any sleeping niche they could find with all manner of bread, sauce, and stew (Harvey's latest venture in cooking, now that they had the means to make bowls and cauldrons). Granted, they hadn't made enough to satiate the little kin and six dragons, but everyone got a taste, and that's what mattered.
   Onnu and Pannu had to take turns watching the hatchlings, to make room for the larger dragons, but they had already made their rounds, so they didn't mind perching on the rim for a while.
   Steel demanded the recipe to the brownest brown sauce he'd ever seen (and he'd served in the military!). Dean said he would only divulge the secret to someone Steel designated an apprentice, so the art of the sauce could spread. The dragon wasn't happy being denied instant gratification, but he was still a dragon. Lending the dwarf one of his kin for a relatively short period of time, in return for a lifetime of tasty dipping sauces (marinade was a bit much to ask, with their current resources) was a worthy bargain.
   Amber raved about Clay's latest bread, which was braided, and made a similar deal. Though other Holds had sent her their kin to train in dyes and bampa fabrication, she hadn't thought to send any of hers for baking apprenticeship.
   Weaver was accustomed to such trades, both in and before her dragon life. She was a merchant in her human life, though she could no longer recall what kind. She happily traded a furgoyle who'd no hand for textiles but was enamored with Harvey's ovens, for an elf who'd been burned too many times at the ovens and wanted to try the loom. It was more accurate to say that she allowed them to trade places, as they didn't have any ownership over their kin. She also negotiated a swap between one of Marla's failed peryarn breeders, and one of her own centaurs who wanted to give it a try.
   It was quickly evident that she had a head for such things, so the little kin went to her with their trade requests from then on. Not just personnel, either. She was adept at determining what amounts of goods were roughly equal, so both parties came away from trade agreements happy.
   Onnu and Pannu were vastly relieved to have the burden lifted from their shoulders. They didn't know how the other Holds handled it, but they'd never felt comfortable being mediators in that capacity. Granted, they didn't enjoy any kind of mediation, but felt it was their duty to at least attempt it when the matter arose.
   They spent the rest of the day feeling lighter than they had before. The food was tasty, the company lively, and when it came time for stories and songs, they settled down with their hatchlings, quite content and pleasantly tired.
   Onnu hadn't known what to expect from the entertainment, but had she been asked, she might've assumed they would be tellings of stories from Earth-that-was. While they'd forgotten stressful and unnecessary details, perhaps the stories and songs would have lived on in memory. She had retained her entire repertoire of fiction, and assumed the others would have done the same.
   She would later learn that only the dragons remembered Earth-that-was, in whatever way was useful to them. For her and Pannu, it was entertainment. He had a larger memory for song, while she had a longer list of stories. Granted, she'd written some of them, but she'd also had more time for reading, as a human.
   Weaver, as stated before, remembered her trade--or the bits that were useful. Marla had a knack for random trivia that wound up being useful. Amber was a fan of musicals, and could burst into a rendition of "Rent" or "Hairspray" on request.
   Steel was a closed book, but when pressed, had a vast library of survival skills (which wasn't a surprise), and botany (which did surprise them). Specifically, he had a thing for orchids, and had been secretly trying to find an equivalent on the new worlds. Nobody knew who'd pried that last part out of him, nor did they tell him that they knew. It was endearing, and they knew he'd bristle if he knew they knew.
   The evening's entertainment contained entirely new works, from little kin all over the neighborhood. Once they'd heard that there would be performing, some had stayed behind for the evening. The most she could have said was that she could occasionally detect the influence of a song or writer, but that mere essence was all that remained of their memories, it seemed.
   The crystals lit up purple and green, as the resident dragons smiled and bobbed to the music. They even shone when the dragons laughed at the comedies. It became the goal for every performer to see them shine, at least once, and most succeeded. The dragons didn't notice the crestfallen ones who hadn't managed, but Dragonfriend and the others did. They explained that the crystals seemed to only react to positive emotions, and that wasn't always what a performance demanded. Some were tragedies, or songs that pulled on the heartstrings in a different way. That didn't mean they were any less valid.
   It did, however, come to mean that every performer in future Hatching Days would always include something funny or poignant to make them feel something positive.
   Even in the tragedies.