Sierra stood straight and tall, as her mother had always told her to do when people were watching her. She tried to ignore the hot sands which burned even through her sandles, tried to ignore the itch on her nose as she glanced to the side to see the half dozen other girls dressed as she was in a candidates white robe. The air was filled with the sounds of quiet conversation from the spectators sitting up in the stepped stone seats around the outside of the hatching grounds, but more important was the sound of humming from the dragons perched high above on ledges all around the great cavern.
The youngest daughter of the Lord of Benden Hold, Sierra had never dreamed that she could be standing here today. She was certain that her parents had already made plans for her to marry some young Holder before the Dragon Riders had come in search of candidates for Impression. Somehow, she had been Searched, and by a dragon no less. V'nore, Rider of blue Namath, had told her parents that Namath would not take him back to the Weyr unless Sierra was with him. She had never seen such excitement on her parents face, but then, it was a great honour to be Searched, even more so when the dragon chose you, not the rider. Also, to have a dragon rider in your family was very prestigious, much better for the family name than a mere marriage could be. And so she had been whisked away Between to the Weyr.
That had only been four days ago, four days since her life had completely changed, but it felt so much longer. Now she stood on the great Hatching Grounds of Benden Weyr, awaiting the hatching of the dragon eggs. The great golden Queen dragon Selith lay behind her clutch, watching the candidates sternly. This was to be her last clutch, if the rumours around the Weyr were to be believed, for she was old, indeed her hide no longer shone in the brilliant gold that younger Queen dragons possessed, and the clutch was a third the size of what she used to produce, only thirteen eggs in total, twelve mottled eggs of various cream, brown, greenish, blueish and yellowish patterns, and one gleaming gold egg which the Queen kept protectively close to herself.
Suddenly, the humming of the dragons ceased as the sound of a crack rang out through the Hatching Grounds. Unable to resist, Sierra looked over to where the male candidates stood, two dozen ranged in a loose semi-circle around the bulk of the eggs. Several of the eggs were rocking, cracks forming as the dragonette inside each one fought to break free. All of a sudden, one of the eggs burst open, releasing the Bronze that had been inside. It was a good omen for a Bronze to hatch first. The wobbly dragonette turned it's head this way and that, searching, until it spotted what, or rather who, it wanted.
Waddling forward on unsteady legs, squawking when he almost fell, the Bronze made a beeline for a stunned looking redheaded boy - Telfern was his name, or rather, T'fern now - who cried out in joy when the baby dragon reached him and the Impression was made. "He says his name is Varoth!" was all Sierra heard before her attention was wrenched back to the golden egg before her.
The egg had begun to rock, gently at first but then more fiercely as a spider web of cracks appeared up the side. Soon enough, the little Queen burst free of her egg with a squawk before turning her head to inspect the candidates before her. Tamelin, also the daughter of a Lord Holder, ran forward to the little Queen, desperate to be the one to Impress the golden dragonette. The oldest daughter of the Lord of Lemos Hold, she had been betrothed to the new young Lord of Nerat Hold, but now her sister would receive that honour. To not Impress today would be a disgrace, especially as her parents sat amongst the crowd. She reached the dragonette quickly, but cried out in dismay as the little Queen pushed right past her.
The other candidates all moved tentatively towards her, but she seemed set on her path, forcefully knocking one girl to the ground to reach her destination. Sierra's eye's widened in shock as she realised where that path led, and she fell to her knees as the crooning dragonette reached her, green jewelled eyes whirling. My name is Melrith came a soft, beautiful voice to Sierra's mind.
"Melrith..." Sierra murmured, tears springing in to her eyes. It was the most beautiful name for the most beautiful dragon on all of Pern.
Are you okay? Is something wrong came the voice again, Melrith's eyes changed to yellow in worry.
"No... No, everything's wonderful, you're wonderful, the most beautiful, wonderful dragon to ever hatch!" Sierra cried and threw her arms around her little Queen's neck. The dragonette squawked in surprise before crooning happily.
The moment only lasted a few seconds though, before Melrith pulled her head back to look at Sierra with her eyes whirling red. I am hungry.
Sierra laughed at that. "Of course you are, lets go get you fed!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 5 Turns Later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Benden Weyr was a hive of activity, riders and weyrfolk alike checking and double checking preparations for the upcoming Threadfall over Lemos Hold in a little under an hours time. This was the first Threadfall of the new Turn for Benden Weyr, they'd been lucky enough to have a 12 day break between falls over Turns End, and had therefore been able to celebrate in proper fashion, unlike Ista Weyr, which had needed to fight Thread on the day of Turns End.
This was the start of the third turn of the current Pass of the Red Star, early enough during the Pass for the excitement to still be alive, but long enough for all six Weyrs to have taken heavy losses. The main, massive bowl of the Weyr was filled with the fighting wings, standing in their proper places as the riders checked the fighting straps on their saddles.
Weyrlings ran about, handing out bags of Firestone to each rider, while weyrfolk prepared the buckets of numbweed that would be required for those dragons which returned to the Weyr Threadscored, and the jugs of wine laced with Fellis Juice which would be required for any badly injured riders. From the caves that pockmarked the sides of the bowl, riders and dragons watched on longingly, confined to their quarters after having been injured in previous Falls. Up at the Star Stones, the structure that showed when the Pass of the Red Star would begin, the Watch dragon bugled a greeting to a dragon that had just winked in from Between.
Sierra was one such rider caught up in the excitement, standing on the large ledge outside her Weyr Cave as she tightened the straps of the saddle on her beloved golden Queen, Melrith. Like all other Queen dragons, she was bigger than even the biggest Bronze - Sierra was barely able to wrap her arms around Melrith's snout - and her gold hide shone bright in the sunlight that filtered down into the bowl of Benden Weyr. Will we be leaving very soon? came the sweet, melodic voice of her dragon.
"Yes my dear, we'll be leaving soon enough," Sierra said, smiling as Melrith made a trilling noise in approval.
Finishing with the saddle, Sierra had been about to go to collect her flamethrower from inside her Weyr Cave, when she heard a voice behind her. "Sierra, just what do you think you are doing?" asked the obviously angry man.
"I'm almost finished preparing for Threadfall, D'larim," Sierra replied, turning to face the angry wingleader, who was flanked by his wingseconds. "Just like everyone else is doing."
"I told you that Melrith would no longer be flying against Thread, not until she clutches and her eggs hatch, we can't risk her getting injured during the Fall." D'larim was a tall man in his late forties, with shrewd eyes and a sharp beak of a nose under a mop of dull brown hair. He was known for his fierce temper, and there were not many who could calm him down once he was angry. How such a man could ever Impress a Bronze, Sierra would never know.
"It will be about another three sevenday's before her eggs cause her to be too heavy to fly, four until she lays. Zenorth flew Thread a mere sevenday before she laid her eggs and you didn't make a fuss about that."
"Because Zenorth is the Senior Queen-"
"That doesn't mean anything when it comes to skill and you know it. Zenorth is only the Senior Queen because she rose to mate first after Selith and Lorissa went Between, if Melrith had risen first, she would be Senior Queen and I would be the Weyrwoman. Now I suggest that you go and check that the weyrlings have finished handing out the firestone sacks, we wouldn't want to be late for Threadfall now, would we?"
"Such insolence! After High Reaches lost an egg heavy Queen to Thread during their last fall, we cannot take any chances! Now you will obey my orders, I'll be Weyrleader soon enough and then-"
"Melrith and I have faith that none of Benden's riders would allow a clump of Thread past their ranks. And you may not become Weyrleader, there are a dozen other Bronzes who might catch Zenorth, and everyone knows that Carla favours R'nor and Kaybeth-"
"That's enough, from the both of you!" came the voice of Carla as she strode towards the small group. The Weyrwoman was a tall lady in her early thirties, with short golden hair and piercing blue eyes, the epitome of beauty, and exactly what the people living in the Holds would expect a Queen rider to look like, unlike Sierra, who was only 18, short, with thick, shoulder length black hair and dark green eyes.
"Weyrwoman, please allow me to explain, Sierra here is disobeying a direct order to remain behind-"
Carla held up her hand to silence the older rider. "I heard, it was hard not to. Sierra will be flying with myself and Melra in the Queens Wing, as Senora and Leith are still too young to be our third rider. You know we cannot have a Queens Wing without three Queens, and I will not miss out on the first Threadfall of the Turn simply because you do not have enough faith in our riders."
"Y-yes Weyrwoman, I'm sorry Weyrwoman" D'larim muttered, before slinking off down the stairs and into the bowl with his wingseconds to finish preparations.
The Weyrwoman strode over to inspect Melrith's saddle before nodding in approval. "You keep your gear well cared for, Sierra..." She held up a finger as Sierra tried to reply. "Now if only you would listen to me, I told you not to antagonise D'larim, he's a very prideful man, and he will disregard your status as a Queen rider because of your age, you need to learn to work around him, not get into an argument every time you speak."
"I know, Carla, I'll try..."
"Good, now you'd better hurry and collect your flamethrower and join Melra and I, I meant what I said about not wanting to miss the Fall. We will be leaving as soon as D'larim gives the signal, he's leading the Fall today after all." And with that, Carla strode off, back up the stairs to her cave where her dragon waited on the ledge.
Sierra sighed, but hurried to obey. She missed B'ral, everyone in the Weyr did. He had been the Weyrleader of Benden Weyr, with his Bronze Yelmeth, until the pair had been caught in a clump of Thread four falls ago. They had been too badly Threadscored to return to the Weyr, instead dissapearing into the black void of Between forever. The loss had been devastating to the Weyr, but life must go on, and Dragonmen must fly when Thread fills the sky, as the old saying went. So now everyone anxiously awaited Zenorth's next mating flight, which would determine who would gain the title of Weyrleader. The favourite was of course R'nor and his Bronze Kaybeth, but D'larim had his supporters, being older, and more experienced, having flown every Fall since the start of the Pass, leading many Falls and only suffering the most minor of Threadscores.
In the end, no one would really know until the mating flight was flown. Sierra smiled, thinking fondly of Melrith's last mating flight. It had been her second flight, and the Queen had been flown by T'fern's Bronze Varoth. T'fern had been a caring lover, even whilst locked in the thrall dragon passion. A rider was never more at one with their dragon than during a mating flight. Smiling and shaking her head to clear the thoughts from her mind, she smiled and returned to Melrith, who crouched down and offered her foreleg as a step, which Sierra used to nimbly climb onto her Queen's back. "Let's join the others, shall we?"
The dragon warbled in agreement, before leaping powerfully off of the ledge and gliding down into the bowl, aiming for the massive golden beacons of Benden's other Queens. Zenorth was about the same size as Melrith, whilst Melra's Sinath was noticeably smaller, still bigger than the biggest Bronze though. Sierra waved in greeting to Melra, an older woman in her mid fifties, taller than Sierra but shorter than Carla, with brown curls and brown eyes, and darker skin that spoke of a desert Trader heritage. Melra waved back with a smile, "you're just in time, I think D'larim's about ready for us to go."
"I'd imagine so, he want's to start off the Turn right," Sierra replied.
"Don't we all?" Melra said, "we've got about 48 Turns left of Threadfall, we should aim to fight every Fall right!"
"Very true Melra" was all Sierra could say before D'larim began giving orders.
As leader of the Fall, it was D'larim's job too keep order, he kept the Wingleaders in order, and they kept their flights in check. He signalled everyone to begin feeding their dragons firestone, and the air was soon filled with the sound of dragons carefully grinding stone between their teeth. The chewing of firestone was what allowed the dragons to produce flame to burn Thread in the air.
Once satisfied that enough firestone had been chewed, each and every fighting dragon lifted up into the air on their massive wings. They quickly arranged themselves into formation, each Wing in different levels, the Queen's wing at the bottom. Queens had a much bigger wingspan in relation to their bodies compared to other dragons, which allowed them to fly closer to the ground, making them the last line of defence against any Thread that may have made it through the ranks of flaming dragons above.
Also, Queens were unable to chew firestone, or they'd risk infertility, so Queen riders wielded flamethrowers to combat stray Thread. The Queens had one final duty during Threadfall. As they were larger than every other dragon, if another dragon was too badly injured and could not make it back to the Weyr, a Queen would be able to catch the dragon on her back and help it back to the Weyr.
D'larim raised his arm in a fist as his Bronze spread the image of where they were going to every other dragon. Once every dragon had received and understood the telepathic image, he brought his fist down in the signal to go Between. As one, the fighting dragons of Benden Weyr disappeared into the absolute black void of Between.
Travelling Between takes only as long as it takes to cough three times. To those new to the experience, it was highly disconcerting, with no air to breath, the immediate bone chilling cold, the all encompassing black and deafening silence, and most unnerving of all, when Between, you could not feel the dragon beneath you, or anyone sitting in front of or behind you. For experienced Dragon Riders though, Between was not scary, it was what allowed then to travel almost instantly to any location on Pern. It also symbolised safety, a dragon caught in Thread could duck Between, where the cold would instantly freeze the Thread to death.
The dragons reappeared above Lemos Hold with a burst of frigid air and a loud whooshing sound, still in perfect formation. They didn't need to wait long before the first silvery Threads were spotted high above them. Thread didn't look dangerous, it looked like silvery ribbons drifting down to the ground, when in reality, it it could reduce a full grown herdbeast to bones in seconds, and then it would eat the bones too. The worst part was that it didn't have a mouth, but seemed to dissolve through anything organic it touched. Sierra hoped that they wouldn't lose a dragon or rider this fall, moral was low enough as it was. Those thoughts were swept from her mind as the dragons rose to meet their ancient foe, flame filling the air and reducing the Thread to ash.
The Fall had begun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sierra sent a burst of fire at a wayward Thread with her flamethrower. Judging by the movement of the sun through the sky, they'd been at this for about three hours now, meaning they had another three hours to go. They'd travelled quite a ways from Lemos Hold as they followed the path of the Fall. The Hold had most likely already sent out it's ground crews by now, wanting to double check that no Thread had escaped notice and fallen to the ground before it could do any real damage. If they happened upon a Thread burrow, they would use similar flamethrowers to the Queen riders ones to burn out the burrow and kill the Thread inside. Once the fall had ended, the riders would inform each of Lemos' smaller Holds that it was safe to send out their ground crews as well.
The dragons were still going strong, swooping and flaming Thread, chewing more firestone whenever they were getting low on the gasses which allowed them to breath fire. The older Weyrlings had made certain to keep the riders stocked up on Firestone, and the Queen riders flamethrowers fuelled, jumping Between to designated drop-off points where they could leave more firestone and fuel. So far they'd only had half a dozen dragons who needed to return to the Weyr from Threadscore, if they kept this up, it would be one of the best Falls they'd had so far in the Pass, but of course, you never knew with Thread. The only thing predictable about it was when and where it would fall.
Zenorth say's the wind is changing direction, the Thread is starting to clump Melrith said as she dove after a stray Thread for Sierra to flame.
"Shards! that's all we needed," Sierra exclaimed, for clumped Thread was more dangerous to fight.
It will be okay, the others know what they are doing.
"I know they do, but it only takes one slip in focus for disaster to str.." Sierra was cut off by the bugle of pain from a Bronze.
It's Varoth Melrith relayed as Sierra looked up to see the Bronze wink Between and back, then begin to fall.
"By the first egg, his wing's all torn to shreds! Tell the Zenorth and Sinath that we'll get him back to the Weyr!"
Done Melrith replied as they soared up to catch Varoth and T'fern as the big Bronze tried to glide down on one wing. Manoeuvring skillfully under him, Melrith was able to support his injured wing so that he wouldn't crash land once they returned to the Weyr. Once up close, Sierra could see that his wing wasn't quite as damaged as she'd first thought, but it would still be months before the tears in the wing membrane had healed enough for him to fly again. She could also see that T'fern had been hit by Thread, his arm scored badly, but he grit his teeth against the pain, more worried about his dragon than himself.
"Okay Melrith, take us home!" Sierra said, taking a deep breath, and suddenly they were Between. Like always, Sierra counted.
One cough.
Two cough.
Three cough...
Four...
Five...
Six...
"Melrith!?" Sierra shouted mentally in panic.
I am here, do not worry came the confused voice of her dragon.
"Why aren't we home!?"
I do not know... Varoth and T'fern are still with us.
"Oh no, no no no no, we're going to die here Between..." Sierra thought, more to herself than her dragon. Suddenly there was a flash of intensely hot, blinding, white light, before the freezing utter black void of Between returned. That didn't make sense, there was no heat, and definitely no light in Between, no one had ever written or spoke of a hot white flash before. Confused, scared, but still counting, it was around the twentieth cough that Sierra passed out from lack of breath and the absolute cold of Between. It was as the twenty fifth cough that the two dragons and their unconscious riders came out from Between.
Back at the Weyr, the dragons bugled in mourning at the loss of a Bronze and a Queen. The riders and dragons still fighting Thread would only stop to mourn once the Fall had ended, but Carla and Zenorth, and Melra and Sinath returned immediately to the Weyr, no longer having the three Queen riders they needed to fly during a Fall. Fighting back tears, the pair of Weyrwomen helped the Weyrfolk with patching up injured riders and dragons. There would be heavy drinking tonight.