[Mkguild] Fellowship of the Egg (1/3)

[C. Matthias]

This story is set in January of 708 CR before my 
Marzac bound characters return.  While the main 
character is one of my own, the idea for the 
Fellowship and most of the characters within it 
belongs entirely to my dear friend Christof 
Bradford.  Some of the ideas in this may seem 
shoking to mammal sensibilities, but that is how 
it seems to us it would be for those who became, something else.

I do hope you enjoy this joint effort on our part!

Metamor Keep: Fellowship of the Egg
By Christof Bradford and Charles Matthias

January 20, 708 CR

         Thalberg drew his red robes tighter 
about his chest in the wintry coolness of the 
Ducal chambers and regarded his liege and lady 
with reptilian fondness.  They were sitting 
across from each other and enjoying a meal of 
steamed oats, syrup, and bits of fruit, all 
complimented with slender chalices of wine.  Only 
crumbs remained of the fresh loaves of bread 
they’d been served first.  It was very nearly the 
first time Thomas had seen his wife since they’d 
risen in the morning and Thalberg was loath to interrupt them.
         It brought great joy to his heart to see 
his Duke, his dearest friend, married and happy 
about it.  After so many years worrying about the 
end of the Hassan house the solution, peculiar as 
only things in Metamor could be, presented 
itself.  Now they merely needed to have a child 
and all would be well for Metamor’s continued stability.
         The great alligator liked to recount 
such good news to assuage his sense of duty 
before he asked something for himself.  His 
yellow eyes caught Thomas’s chestnut brown orbs 
and held them silently for several 
seconds.  Thomas then turned to Alberta who was 
regaling him with her plans to improve the 
breeding stock for the Valley’s horses and 
interrupted her midstream. “I’m sorry, 
Alberta.  I think my friend Thalberg is waiting to ask something.”
         Alberta’s long ears folded back and she 
turned toward the hulking reptile. “Ah, the good 
Steward hath a desire in his heart to share with 
thee.  I wilt retire to our chambers to allow thee a moment’s privacy.”
         “There is no need, your grace,” Thalberg 
replied with only a trifle chagrin. “I merely 
wished to remind your husband that tomorrow is 
the Fellowship’s Winter gathering.  I was hoping 
to introduce Miriam to the rest of the 
Fellowship.  You recall Miriam of course.”
         Thomas nodded, equine ears lifting in 
contemplation. “Of course.  One of the Brandanes 
refugees; she’s become an alligator like 
yourself.  How is she adjusting to it?”
         “Fairly well,” Thalberg replied. “She 
has already distinguished herself as my new 
Mistress of the Kitchens.  I’ve introduced her to 
a few of the other reptiles and birds but it will 
be good for her to meet the rest.” What he didn’t 
say, and what he didn’t want to admit to himself, 
was that he always felt an odd comfort when 
surrounded by others adorned in scales or decked 
in feathers.  It was as if for a short time he 
could allow the tight discipline he maintained to 
relax.  It was something that none of his still 
mammalian friends understood, nor could 
they.  Not even his liege and most cherished friend Thomas.
         But Thomas did understand better than 
most. “Take her and introduce her to the 
rest.  And tell Copernicus while you’re there 
I’ll want to see him by week’s end.  He has a few 
reports he owes me.” The horse smiled an array of 
wide flat teeth and then cast a quick glance to 
Alberta who listened with polite interest veiling 
a wanton desire to hear more. “And tell Malqure 
that I want him to teach Alberta more of the 
Valley’s history as well as the history of her 
new family.  He can start whenever he’s ready.”
         Thalberg allowed himself a slight 
chuckle at the thought of how the over-anxious 
ibis would react to that news — he’d likely molt 
on the spot in excitement. “I will pass on your 
messages.  If there is nothing else, your grace, 
I will retire for the evening.”
         “Enjoy your day tomorrow, my friend,” 
Thomas replied with a swish of his long tail. 
“And do not worry about us.  We’ll manage.”
         The alligator’s eyes narrowed and his 
jaws tightened. “A servant’s duty never ceases, your grace.”
         “True,” Thomas admitted, “and your duty 
tomorrow is not to worry about anything but the 
well being of Miriam, yourself, and the others in 
the Fellowship.  Now go get your rest.  I will 
see you again in two days.  And not before.”
         Thalberg rumbled a little laugh and felt 
more grateful than he deserved to have such a 
friend and liege in Thomas Hassan. “I will do as 
you say, your grace.  Good Night.  Good Night, 
Lady Alberta.” He bowed to them both, long tail 
lifting from the ground to balance himself as he 
did, and then turned to leave them to their dinner.

----------

January 21, 708 CR

         Emily rolled over onto her belly, closed 
her eyes, clapped a hand-like forepaw over the 
end of her snout, and tried her best to ignore 
the hisses and squawks of several dozen 
arguments. It seemed to happen before every 
monthly meeting, and was especially bad before 
the semi-annual celebrations, such as this one. 
What really set her head to throbbing was just 
how inane the arguments’ causes usually were. 
Disagreements between her fellow Followers and 
the Lightbringers over the manner in which the 
Fellowship should celebrate holidays and the 
hatching of children would at least be reasonable 
causes of friction, but to squabble over 
trivialities like the best way to adorn one's self?
         “I am beginning to understand the truth 
behind Thalberg’s refusal of the Perch. ‘I don’t 
want create a conflict between my duties to the 
House of Hassan and the Fellowship,’ my cloaca! 
The real reason is he didn’t want to have to 
listen to the endless fighting,” Emily said to 
the ghostly Tened seated next to her, which only 
she as the holder of the Perch could see and hear.
         “They remind me of a group of adolescent 
clutch-mates, always jousting for position and 
status,” Shirazz said with the growling whistle of Tened laughter.
         Emily’s fixed reptilian snout attempted 
a smile but all it did was reveal the many sharp 
teeth the Curse had given her.  Eight years ago 
when Nasoj had cast his devastating spell, Emily 
had been tending the wounded one moment and then 
fighting the ravenous desire to eat the little 
squirrel whose human leg a moment before she’d 
been splinting.  That day she’d crouched on her 
knees never knowing it would be the last time in 
her life she’d ever stand on two legs.  Even 
after the counter Curses took effect, Emily’s 
legs were still too short to raise her heavy body 
beyond a crouch.  Like the komodo she appeared, 
that great beast of the southern jungles and 
oriental coasts, she spent all her days in a 
typical reptilian four-legged sprawl.
         At first she’d cursed Nasoj and 
beseeched Eli why this was so.  Even looking at 
her husband Raymond who had no legs at all, but 
only the mottled and sinuous body of a viper with 
stunted arms brought little relief.  But in time, 
with so many others like her, and so many worse 
than her, touched her heart and she was grateful 
to discover that they were not as cold hearted as 
often thought.  When she had first climbed upon 
the Perch, a padded divan atop a granite base 
carved in ancient runes that none at Metamor knew 
how to decipher, she finally began to understand Eli’s purpose in her change.
         Those now clothed in scales and feathers 
needed protection, help, and leadership.  Though 
there were many who were still mammals that she 
loved dearly and called friend, not a one of them 
could truly understand the hardships her kind 
faced.  If it was her duty to be their strength 
for a time, she would be.  She just wished they 
wouldn’t argue so fruitlessly all the time!
         “Was it always this way in your time?” She asked the ghostly Tened.
         Shirazz lowered her pale translucent 
snout, feathers thrumming along her long backside 
to the tip of her pointed tail. “It is this way 
in all times,” came the reply.  The Tened, a race 
long dead, had once lived in the Metamor 
Valley.  The Keep had preserved the Perch in 
hidden chambers where no man had tread until the 
day it had been needed.  No other race had need 
of their wisdom for no other race was like them.  Not until the Curses.
         Emily nodded long and slow and dug her 
forepaws into the edge of the divan. “Well, I 
suppose I had better break this argument 
up.  Excuse me.” She pushed her heavy body off 
the divan and raced as quickly as she could 
across the sand toward the cluster of contentious carnivores.

----------

         Miriam’s quarters were not too far from 
the kitchens, if anything could be said to be 
near or far inside the Keep.  But on nearly any 
day in the cool winter air, Thalberg found the 
Keep to be a friend which brought his heavy 
footfalls quickly to whatever destination he 
desired.  And after a brief stop in the Kitchens 
to ensure that his staff were prepared for the 
day, a day in which he would not be henceforth 
supervising them, he thought of Miriam and walked 
into the halls.  A moment later and he stood 
before her door.  He knew it was hers because it 
was large enough for their size and blissful warmth radiated from the wood.
         He knocked.
         “Is that you, Thalberg?” a deep but airy 
voice boomed from behind the door.
         “It is I,” he replied in his resonant 
bass. “If you’re ready, I will take you to the 
Fellowship gathering today like I promised.”
         He could hear something heavy drag 
across the floor – a familiar rasping sound he’d 
long grown used to with his own ponderous 
tail.  Then the latch sprang and the door swung 
inwards bathing him in an almost visible cloud of 
steamed vapour.  Miriam was keeping a kettle of 
water boiling like he suggested.  Good.
         After the flow of warmth came a large 
alligator, green-scaled maw with bright yellow 
eyes emerging from a heavy grey tunic and cloak 
drawn tight with a bit of cord about the 
front.  Thalberg noted her drab clothes with a 
curious gaze but said nothing about it. “Did you 
take your kettle off the fire?  You don’t want to ruin it.”
         Miriam nodded, the gesture still a bit 
exaggerated. “I did so just as you 
knocked.  Thank you for suggesting it.  I am 
surprised at how good it feels to make the air in 
my quarters humid and hot.  It does not sit well 
with my drapes and quilts, so I only use one pot 
and then only in the morning when it is so 
cold.  Is that what you do to stay warm?” Her 
yellow eyes stayed fixed upon his toothsome 
visage, a feat few in Metamor could perform.
         “No.  I only do that on the coldest of 
days.  A good fire is usually all I require.  I’m 
not so cold blooded as some you will meet today.” 
He gestured for her to walk beside him.  She 
closed her door and then fell into step at his 
right.  Miriam was a hand shorter, and she still 
dragged her tail as she walked.  Thalberg leaned 
forward a bit, lifting his tail higher. “Walk 
like this.  It will help some.  You don’t want to 
scrape the bottom of your tail too much.”
         Miriam followed his lead.  After a 
moment the corner of her jaw lifted in a 
reptilian smile. “Thank you.  That is much 
better.” Her eyes gazed down the corridor ahead 
of them.  Although it continued straight, the 
carpeting turned to the left and away from the 
narrow windows. “How much further is it?  I don’t recognize this hall.”
         “Then I expect we are almost there.” And 
as they turned the corner Thalberg saw that they 
had already arrived.  A large set of double doors 
inlaid with serpents, lizards, and birds was 
flanked on either side by a human warrior 
carrying a ceremonial halberd festooned with 
banners in a scale pattern and a reptilian 
creature with long, thick tail, draconian jaws, 
longs claws on both arms and legs, as well as a 
sickle claw on his inside toe.  Miriam started 
having never before seen anything quite like him.
         “Good morning, Thalberg,” the strange 
reptilian beast who was neither lizard, snake, 
nor alligator said. “You must be Miriam.  We met 
last week.  Jon the Artificer.”
         Miriam’s yellow eyes blinked. “Jon the 
Artificer?  But weren’t you a deer?”
         He tapped the green glowing pendant that 
was his only adornment.  It fitted snugly against 
his deep chest and around his tall neck. “I 
was.  I found this Tened artifact while digging 
two years ago.” His voice was a whistling tenor 
that trilled r’s and hissed s’s. “When I wear it 
I become this.  The Fellowship has helped me 
learn much since then in exchange for guard duties like this.”
         Miriam’s long tail drew closer to her 
legs.  Thalberg observed her closely, noting a 
certain reservation in her eyes that she likely 
did not know she betrayed. “They do not permit you beyond these doors?”
         “None but members may go beyond these 
doors.  Only those clad in feather or scale all 
their days may enter,” the human man said with a 
pleasant laugh. “My rooster assures me I am not missing much.”
         “Your rooster?” Miriam almost stumbled 
backward for a moment before she understood. “You were once a woman?”
         The man nodded. “Norbert, ma’am.  And 
yes, I was once a woman.  My rooster, Richard, 
was once my betrothed but I can’t help but love 
him still.  And I have a deep fondness for all of 
you covered in scales or feathers, so I’m happy 
to stand guard while you gather and help each other out as only you can.”
         Thalberg grunted, sartorial manner 
returned, and gestured to the door. “I hope your 
day is pleasant.  I’ve asked my staff to bring 
something around for you both a little later.”
         “Thank you,” Jon replied with a 
bird-like bob of his head. “That would be much appreciated.”
         Norbert opened the door for them and the 
two alligators passed through.  The antechamber 
beyond was a wide but short hallway ending in 
another pair of double doors.  Curtained alcoves 
lined either side each bearing the crest of the 
Fellowship, a blue banner with a white 
egg.  Standing in the middle of the room was a 
bird long of leg, neck, short of wing and broad 
of tail and body.  He bore no clothes and his 
beady eyes scrutinized their heavy garments with obvious distaste.
         “Kelly,” Thalberg said with a subtle 
growl beneath his breath. “How have the monthly arguments over clothing gone?”
         “Concluded,” Kelly replied with a 
clipped tongue. “They went as usual.  Emily 
brought them to an end a moment back.  It would 
be easier if everyone would go without then we 
wouldn’t have to spend money providing and 
cleansing garments each month — we are short on 
money as it is as you know, good Steward.  Now, I 
know your preference so I won’t bother arguing 
with you.  But I don’t believe I’ve met you 
before.” His gaze turned sharply on Miriam and 
the lady alligator’s yellow eyes widened in yet 
another surprise.  Thalberg chided himself for 
not warning her of all that was going to come.
         “Miriam.  I only arrived at Metamor a 
month past.” She glanced at the far door warily. 
“Do you really mean we are not supposed to wear clothes?”
         Kelly stomped one leg as if striking a 
pose. “Outside clothes carry mammal scents and 
those are upsetting to many of our members.  You 
are not permitted to enter bearing those scents 
if you can help it.  Besides, you don’t really 
need them inside.  It’s warm for all who bear 
scale or feather.  Nor do we have anything to 
hide.  You will find most do not wear anything at all within these walls.”
         “Aren’t you exaggerating, Kelly?” 
Thalberg said as he loosened his sash.
         The obstreperous bird titled his head 
from side to side and groused. “Oh all 
right.  About half do not wear clothes.  The 
others wear just what their modesty allows 
them.  If you insist, we do have robes you can 
don.  You’ll find them on your left.  You may 
change in there, but then give your outside 
garments to me.  I’ll make sure they are kept 
safely stowed away for the meeting.”
         Thalberg and Miriam slipped into one of 
the alcoves where a single lantern illuminated a 
long closet extending back two dozen paces.  A 
side passage led into another section and 
Thalberg gestured for her to go through there for 
privacy’s sake.  Miriam stepped through and found 
another room just like it.  She paused and 
half-turned back and asked in a growling whisper. 
“Just what is Kelly?  I’ve never seen anything like him.”
         “An ostrich,” Thalberg replied in a 
subdued voice quieter than he ever used in the 
kitchens. “They’re a race of birds that roam the 
savannahs of Sonngefilde.  They can’t fly, but 
they can run, or so I’m told.”  He turned his 
back and let his red robes fall over his tail 
exposing his broad speckled green back.  Miriam 
slipped quietly into the other room.
         When they emerged from the alcoves, 
Miriam’s body was draped in a long white robe 
that obscured her body apart from head, hands, 
feet, and tail.  Thalberg bore only a red 
bandolier with the Hassan emblem inscribed in the 
upper left corner.  Kelly snorted at both of them 
but took their usual robes and gestured with a 
twitch of his head at the far doors. “You may go 
in now.  I expect the meeting will be starting soon.”
         As they walked to the double doors, 
Miriam leaned over and asked, “Isn’t that outside clothes?”
         “I wash them before each meeting so they 
have no scents.  Someone must represent the 
interests of the Hassan family here and there is 
none other than I more appropriate.” He pushed 
open the door and stepped into the Fellowship Hall.
         Miriam followed with a curious 
expression and tilt to her yellow eyes.  The 
first thing she noticed as she stepped through 
the portal was a blast of heat.  No longer was 
the hint of winter clinging to the air but the 
brightness of an early Summer midafternoon 
thronged her breath and every caress of 
breeze.  Never since her arrival had she ever 
felt so thoroughly comfortable.  She savoured the 
heat even as her eyes began to absorb all that lay before her.
         The room into which they’d stepped was a 
long hall with a rounded arch ceiling that 
allowed the interior to remain fully open.  This 
was all the more impressive given the width and 
breadth of the hall which was at least half as 
long and wide as the Cathedral.  Curtained 
alcoves lined both left and right, with torches 
interspersed between, the smoke disappearing into 
small chimneys within the arch.  The periphery of 
the floor was solid granite, but nearly the 
entire middle was filled with bright yellow and 
white sand.  Logs and benches lined the nearer 
half and upon these perched many birds of every 
colour and hue, and squatted an equal number of 
reptiles.  Lizards and turtles of all varieties 
and of all shapes, as well as any number of 
snakes, some with arms and legs, and some with 
only arms.  There were even a few others similar 
in appearance to Thalberg and Miriam, but the jaws and eyes looked different.
         Quite a few greeted Thalberg with 
delight as they entered, and several took note of 
Miriam with alien eyes that nevertheless seemed 
kin.  She recognized only a few of the faces but 
knew that in time she’d learn many more.  One of 
them, a chameleon approached her with a long 
lashing tail she recognized as delight. 
“Miriam!  So good to see you here.  Master 
Thalberg.” He bobbed his head ever so slightly, 
one eye focussing on each alligator.
         “Patric,” Miriam replied with unhidden 
delight. “I didn’t realize you would be here.”
         “I’ve been a member for four years now, 
ever since I changed,” Patric said with a faint 
shrug in his shoulders. “I’ve found no end of 
support from them ever since I started studying 
for the priesthood under Father Hough.  He’s 
given me the faculty to bring the Host to those 
Followers who cannot leave the Hall.  I’m looking 
forward to the day when I’ll be allowed to say 
the Liturgy myself.  We need a priest here too.” 
His enthusiasm dwindled ever so slightly as if he 
were recalling some old lesson. “We aren’t really 
supposed to talk about the Fellowship to anyone, 
but Emily gave me permission to tell Father.  Still, keep it to yourself.”
         Miriam appeared confused by this, so 
Thalberg decided to explain before one of the 
more excitable members chose to do so. “There are 
some here who cannot leave the Hall.” This he 
said gently with one scaled hand upon her robed 
shoulder. “What the Curse has done to them has 
made it impossible for them to look upon any 
mammal without fear.  For their sake, and for the 
sake of our community, we keep this a secret amongst ourselves.”
         “So many of us here can keep such a 
secret?” She scanned all those gathered and 
marvelled at the numbers.  Almost two hundred at 
least were here.  Conversations in hisses and 
caws swirled around her, bouncing off the walls 
and impacting the membranes that were now her 
ears.  She flexed her hands, broad, green, and 
covered in hard scales.  A sense of belonging 
settled into her and she felt as if some unknown 
burden were momentarily lifted.
         One of Patric’s eyes roved behind him 
where a large lizard approached on all fours. “It 
is not really so hard.  Simply do not speak of 
the Fellowship when you leave the Hall.  Do not 
lie of course; just do not speak of it.” He 
opened his jaws in an approximation of a smile, 
long tail curling at its end. “You’ll adapt in time.”
         “Yes you will adjust.  We have all had 
to do so.” Thalberg couldn’t help but recall his 
own first days after the Curse.  There had been 
many things to adjust to and not just in his new 
body.  The worst had been the different way 
people treated him.  But he now used his 
intimidating body to his advantage as the Duke’s 
Steward. “There may be costs but that is one 
reason the Fellowship is here.  Speaking of 
which, Miriam, I’d like you to meet the 
Fellowship’s leader, Emily.” He gestured to the 
large lizard who even now approached.
         The lizard placed her forelimbs on the 
nearest log and lifted herself as high as she 
could go.  She then extended a mottled, dirty 
brown-scaled arm and opened her broad muzzle. “As 
Thalberg said, my name is Emily and I am a 
komodo.  I sit on the Perch which means I try to 
lead the Fellowship.  Welcome to Metamor and to 
the Fellowship of the Egg, Miriam. It is a long 
way and a very different life than you knew at Bradanes.”
         Miriam was uncertain what to do until 
Thalberg knelt down in the sand before the log 
bringing his head almost even with the 
komodo’s.  She then did likewise and accepted the 
offered hand as if it were noble.  The sand was 
warm beneath her and Emily’s hand, which served 
her as a foot, was warm too.  Other than the 
thumbs on Emily’s hands — and the fact that she 
spoke —  there did not appear to be anything to 
distinguish her from a beast. “It is a pleasure 
to meet you, Emily.  It is so very strange for 
me.  Thalberg says I can speak well now.”
         A growling rumble echoed within Emily’s 
chest and it took Miriam a moment to realize the 
lizard was laughing. “It took some of us many 
months to learn to use our new tongues.  You are 
doing very well.  And Thalberg has told me that 
you have been adapting to being an alligator 
too.  Please consider this Hall your home and I an older sister.”
         Miriam felt strangely pleased at the suggestion. “Thank you, Emily.”
         Emily lowered her hand to the log and 
did a sort of bow, tail sweeping out the sand 
behind her. “Now I’m afraid I must go and welcome 
the rest of the newcomers.  You folk of Bradanes 
are very welcome here.  We’ll begin the gathering 
shortly. I’m sure Thalberg can show you around.”
         “That I shall,” he replied.
         The komodo crawled away on all fours, 
moving faster than Miriam would have expected 
with such an awkward looking gait.  Miriam 
glanced between Thalberg and the Patric the 
chameleon, then stood and brushed the sand off 
the front of her Fellowship robe. In a quiet 
voice she said, “I did not know some had become so much like animals.”
         Thalberg nodded. “Some are in even worse 
shape.  One of the gardeners, Roger, is a very 
large snail and has no one like him.  Laracin is 
a tamarack in the gardens whose only companions 
are those who visit him.  We are very fortunate.” 
He grunted and straightened, his dutiful and 
distant demeanor returning. “Emily considers 
herself fortunate too and even if you offered her 
the chance to be human again, I doubt she would 
even consider it.” He gestured along one wall. 
“Come, let me show you more of the Hall before we begin.”
         Miriam followed wordlessly.

         Thalberg introduced Miriam to a few more 
notable members of the Fellowship, some of which, 
like Copernicus, she had already met at the 
Ecclesia Cathedral, and others like Bryan the 
cobra she had heard mention of but hadn’t seen, 
and quite a number of others that were wholly unfamiliar to her.
         Her alligator guide also showed her the 
chambers where the dozen or so eggs lain by 
members were kept warm.  This took Miriam by 
surprise as it had not yet occurred to her what 
was meant by calling their gathering the 
Fellowship of the Egg.  Were she to have any 
children, they would not be born crying and in 
need of mother’s milk, but they would be hatched 
from an egg and ready for chewed meat.  The 
thought did not unsettle her as much as it would 
have were she still human.  Some of the mothers 
and fathers were there to dote on their eggs, 
singing songs to them and stroking their smooth 
surface as they were kept half-submerged in the 
sand and even warmer than the rest of the hall.
         Thalberg was only able to point out the 
places where members could relieve themselves 
when everyone hastened to find a place to sit or 
sprawl.  The komodo had climbed atop the Perch 
and stood as tall as she could, head swerving 
from side to side, long tongue sliding in and out 
of her mouth until she saw that most were listening.
         And the rest were quickly seated when 
Emily finally bellowed for attention, voicing a 
great honking sound that no komodo should have 
been capable of making. “Good morning, and 
welcome to the eighth Yuletide gathering of the 
Fellowship of the Egg. As is customary of our 
Yule and Midsummer gatherings, I would like to 
open the celebration by greeting our newest 
members; those who have been recently stricken by 
Nasoj's Curse, and our beloved hatchlings who 
have survived their time in the egg. Welcome, all 
of you, to the Fellowship of the Egg. Know that, 
even as you face disgust and scorn in the eyes of 
the mammals, the Fellowship will never forsake its own.”
         “What did she mean, disgust and scorn?” Miriam asked Thalberg.
         Thalberg opened his mouth to reply, but 
was interrupted by a crocodile seated on the 
other side of Miriam. “Isn’t it obvious? We are 
little better than the cold slimy creatures that 
we bear the forms of, or so They would have us 
believe. We are scorned because we are primitive 
creatures that need the Sun or warm sand for our 
body heat. We are objects of disgust because we 
share love through the same portal we use for our 
toileting. We are laughed at because our women 
don't give birth to babies, but instead lay eggs 
that have to be incubated. And the looks on their 
faces when our children are fed...
         “Treasure any friendships with mammals 
that survived your joining us, because you will likely never have another.”
         Miriam stared appalled at the suggestion 
but neither her nor Thalberg were able to speak 
as several seating nearby were quick to 
disagree.  An osprey cawed and glared. “I have 
made many friends with mammals while serving as a 
scout!” A crow flapped her wings and bobbed her 
head as if to peck the crocodile, “Some of my 
best friends are the children who like to have a 
friend that can fly!”  A frilled lizard standing 
less than four feet in height and thinner than 
Miriam’s arm jumped up and down and shouted his support for mammals too.
         A moment later a half dozen other nearby 
voices rose to denounce mammals and any not of 
scale or feather as untrustworthy and 
suspicious.  Thalberg crossed his arms over his 
chest and grunted, an impatient anger building in 
him.  Emily hadn’t even been able to get through 
the welcome this year before the first official 
fight broke out.  Beside him Miriam floundered 
and tried but failed to crouch out of the way.
         And then Thalberg did something he never 
did at Fellowship meetings.  He bellowed with the 
full capacity of his saurian heritage. “Enough!” 
Everyone nearby was stunned into silence.  He did 
not slacken his volume. “We are brothers and 
sisters of the Egg.  There will be time for 
quarrels later.  For now, she who sits on the 
Perch is trying to speak.  I will not tolerate 
this disrespect shown to the Perch!”
         The crocodile who’d launched the first 
contra fur bromide almost managed to look 
chastened as he scooted on his tail an inch or 
two away.  The others all turned back around to 
face Emily, though many feathers were still lifted anxiously.

         Emily felt an immense surge of relief 
when Thalberg shouted the others into 
submission.  That an argument would break out 
during a Fellowship meeting was not unusual.  In 
fact it almost always happened.  Squabbles were 
frustrating but apparently inevitable.  And it 
was usually she who had to bellow the room to 
silence.  But no one could bellow like an 
alligator and Thalberg was better at it than she recalled.
         But why do it this time when he usually 
never even spoke up during meetings except to defend the Duke?
         As if sensing her thoughts, the spectral 
Tened at her side whistled in appraisal. “The bull is protecting his sow.”
         “Miriam?  She just arrived at 
Metamor.  Thalberg was asked to help her because 
he was an alligator too,” Emily replied sotto 
voce glancing at them briefly and then back to Shirazz.
         “Perhaps not,” Shirazz’s body hunched as 
if she were shrugging. “Or perhaps he doesn’t 
even know it yet.  I do hope there are hatchlings 
in their future.  That one has long denied himself any happiness.”
         Emily nodded and found that she too 
hoped it was so.  She honked loudly to return 
attention to the Perch but she needn’t have done 
so as all eyes were on her already.  Lifting her 
head high she continued in a broad bellowing 
alto, “As I said, welcome all of you to the 
Fellowship of the Egg.  If this is your first 
gathering, know that there are only a few rules 
to observe.  First, never speak of the Fellowship 
to any not of the Fellowship.  It is not for them 
to know and it is safer for the rest of us.”


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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias


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