Unwelcome Return

[meah]

Dawn. It was a fairly nice time of day, in I'nk's opinion. He enjoyed it better than any other time when Silvrith made him come out here with Andy to look out for Thread. Supposedly, the ex-weyrleader worked the same area, so why would the man drop thread here? Most people didn't like dropping evil burning things that killed on somewhere they had to spend lots of time. Of course, that could all be a ruse to make I'nk more complacent about his time there. It was pretty nice, anyway, and he and Sil had mastered some pretty cool flight things, with the mountains to use as obstacles.

They were practicing one of these maneuvers when I'nk saw it. It wasn't something he'd ever seen before. In his whole life. And it was falling from the sky. Even with what few rational powers he had, I'nk was smart enough to identify Thread when he saw it.

Hey, Sil...

I'nk actually sounded quite serious for once. And quite lucid. Also for once. It warranted enough attention that the dragon nearly hit a tree. Yes, I'nk-mine?

Sil, they're dropping threads. He pointed in his head to where the falling thing was.

And then they were blinking between, returning to the Weyr, because the dragon was smarter than his would ever be, and he knew that they must be warned.

---

In the moments it had taken them together, he was quietly admonishing I'nk in such a way that the young man wouldn't know. I'nk, on the other hand, was shouting in a strange manner, and carried on doing so not only after they arrived home but after they'd landed, and after they were running down the passageways to find someone who could do something about the Thread.

"SEE, SIL! I TOLD YOU THEY WOULD DROP THREADS ON US AS SOON AS THEY GOT THE CHANCE! SEESEESEESEE!"

Silvrith shook his great head at his and made the announcement as loudly as he could without accidentally presenting everyone in the weyr (as opposed to the all but one or two who couldn't hear him) with I'nk's stupidity.

Thread! Mine has seen Thread!

[Archer]

N’rek was on his way out of the dining hall when he heard the yelling. The greenrider was both curious and annoyed, so he continued on his way back to the Weyrbowl, thinking that the person yelling was either drunk or a little touched in the head. He wasn’t expecting to be nearly run over by a boy who was running full speed down the passageways, hollering his head off about Thread. For a brief moment N’rek was stunned into silence then the shock was gone, replaced by a mixture of fear and dread, and he sprinted towards the Weyrbowl as fast as he could.

Silvrith has seen Thread. I’ll meet you.

He emerged from the dim passageway out into the sunlight, head tipped back to look at the sky, eyes narrowed. Back at the old Weyr he had seen Threadfalls from two views—one as a Journeyman Healer and the other as a dragonrider. Both were just as terrifying and though N’rek hadn’t physically flown all that many Threadfalls he had some sort of experience that he could only hope would see him through this.

Crith landed nearby and he clambered onto her, quickly fastening the straps. Go, go on. We need to get prepared. What if we’re too late? Crith sprang into the air and they were at their weyr within moments, though those moments felt like years to N’rek. He didn’t like this being caught unaware—Thread was best when planned for and he was terrified that Araelen wasn’t prepared enough.

We have done this before, surely we can do so again. Crith’s mind-voice was calm, soothing her nervous rider as he checked and re-checked her straps, gathered his leathers and dressed. When he was satisfied with his work, he scrambled back onto his green, pulling the riding cap secure and resettling his goggles.

Crith took flight, landing neatly back in the Weyrbowl, and she turned her eyes to the sky. This is what we were born to do, N’rekmine. We will be fine. N’rek bent to accept first one, then a second, bag of firestone, giving the weyrling that had brought them a reassuring smile. I hope you’re right, dear one. I sincerely hope you are.

[M'kel]

A day off from Sweepriding was just what M'kel needed, and he was thoroughly taking advantage of it. He was in the Hot Springs for a good soak (a place that was fast becoming his favourite retreat in the Weyr) when the call came. Unfortunately for M'kel, today would hold far more work than he'd ever anticipated!

Thread is falling! Tirenth's voice exploded in his head, accompanied by a bugle that even M'kel could hear, holed away in the Weyr's Caverns as he was.

Fear gripped the bronzerider suddenly, and he froze. The scar on his face seemed to prickle (Harry Potter style ) in memory of the last Threadfall, and he was momentarily paralyzed by flashing images of flaming dragons and black between.

We will be safe this time, mine, Tirenth's soothing words stroked his anxious mind. We will protect each other. The dragon paused. Our Wing needs us.

M'kel gave himself a little shake. You're right...of course you're right. He hauled himself from the steaming water, scurried, dripping, to where he'd abandoned his outer clothes, and pulled them on hastily. Wet hair slicked back, the dragonrider raced into the Bowl, tying his breeches up as he went, and hollering all the while at any drudge he passed with orders to gather firestone. Tirenth was ready and waiting, lifting his rider quickly to their weyr, so they could get their proper Threadfighting gear.

Finally, adorned in wherhide jacket, pants, gloves, and helmet, M'kel and Tirenth alighted in the Bowl in the designated area for the Cloudbandits. He waited anxiously for the rest of the Wing to arrive, all the while stuffing firestone down Tirenth's throat and trying to remind himself that P'neil would be leading this Fight. P'neil was Weyrleader now.

But we are still Wingleaders, the bronze reminded him, chewing as quickly as possible.

Yes, and the Cloudbandits needed them.

[B'kay]

B'kay was whistling an early tune, peace washing through him, as he oiled his dragon's harness when the call came.

Thread.

I'nk and Silvrith had spotted Thread.

His heart stopped for just a moment -- and then he sprang into action. Syth was already on the ledge, head lowered for his gear. B'kay threw it around the dragon's neck, pulling straps to, buckling, grabbing his gear and before the dragon had time to turn around, the rider was astride.

For a heartbeat, as Syth dove from the ledge toward the bowl, shouting a mental SEABLADES TO ME! SEABLADES TO ME NOW! THREAD, THREAD, WE FLY!, B'kay thought that he should be afraid.

His hand went up to rub the stubble growing around his ugly scar, and he shook his head.

No, there would be time for fear later.

He glanced around as the dark bronze landed in the Bowl, still summoning the gathering of their Wing. There were senior Weyrlings, just joined them, who had only had a few practices under their belt. But last time, there were also many who had never flown a Fall.

On the whole, as worrisome as it was, they were better off now, better prepared, scored and scarred and wiser for it.

He hoped.

Looking around, the dark rider sought a golden hide and the black curls that would mean Kitari and Lefayeth had heard the call, and were joining the Queen's Wing.

Thread.

SEABLADES TO ME!

=====

For a moment, the message that came through Rhobith, whose eyes whirled orange-red with excitement and the lust for battle, did not register to C'train. He was trimming hooves, and had a runner's rear leg on a block, pinned between his knees. The beast squealed and kicked, forcing C'train to quickly loose it back into the paddock.

Rhobith! You know you're not supposed to land so close to--

I said THREAD, Mine! THREAD! The nearly grown handsome brown dragon tossed a bundle toward his rider ... harness, flight jacket, gloves, helmet, goggles....

THREAD!

A Fall? Thread? They were going to fight Thread!

C'train tossed the harness around Rhobith, cinching it tightly, with almost as much practiced skill as he would use to saddle a runnerbeast. He launched from the dragon's offered knee to his neck, decking himself in fighting gear as they leapt into the air, seeking out their Wingleader.

There! M'kel and Tirenth were already waiting for the rest of the Cloudbandit Wing!

======

Igrainth nudged Ravyna, who had not pulled duty this morning, and was determined to sleep in.

We cannot sleep today, Mine. We have work.

"No," the dark-haired girl moaned, rubbing her now short-cropped black locks with sleepy hands. "We're not on--"

Thread has returned. We must go fight. Our Wing is called to battle.

The lithe green tilted her head at her rider, waiting for the words to register.

And register they did. With angry determination, still cursing the burning creatures that took her lovely hair, and so much more from so many of her comrades, Ravyna leapt from her bed and gathered her gear, and she and Igrainth were quickly circling toward the Bowl to join the StormChasers.

====

Gaylen had been lucid since the last Fall, and wasted no time with confusion. Before Alabanth had relayed the message fully, the older healer was shouting orders to gather medicines, supplies, sutures, bandages, and prepare the largest caverns and sheltered areas of the bowl as triosh space. C'lyn must fight, Greylith must fly, and an edict of the Weyrleaders ... or the previous ones ... had grounded her and her greying blue.

But she knew the drill, and where she would be most needed. Alabanth was a skilled healer's dragon, and as many of the best healers in the infirmary were riders as well, would be working harder on this day than he had ... since last threadfall.

Pray to the Egg they never had to work THAT hard again....

[Tealah]

P'neil was immersed in studying a sheaf of record hides. Ink splattered his hands and even his face from absent-minded tapping of his pen while he was thinking, and the scrap of hide he'd been jotting notes on was filled with meticulous, tiny writing. If he was going to be Weyrleader, by Faranth he was going to do it properly! He grimly set himself to reading yet another hide, tip of the pen between his teeth, when...

THREAD!! The bugle that accompanied Artoneth's deafening mental bellow rattled the jars of ink together.

"WHAT?" P'neil realized he'd shouted as well, his voice echoing down the corridor, and repeated the question in a more reasonable tone as he joined Artoneth on his ledge. "Who spotted it?"

Silvrith. Artoneth's voice was an impatient growl. P'neil was wasting time with questions when they should be flying out to face the Thread. Why did it matter who saw the Thread? It was THERE!

"Silvrith... that's I'nk's blue, right? They were flying patrol over Saltsprings Hold with A'mnir and Miladath, I think. Has Mildath checked in?" When Artoneth rumbled a negative, P'neil's brow creased worriedly. "He's sure he saw Thread? Absolutely certain? Isn't I'nk supposed to be a little... unreliable?" He refrained from using the words he'd heard whispered around the Weyr. Which is to say, stark raving mad.

Artoneth turned a withering glare on his rider. Why was P'neil so reluctant to fight the Thread? He'd always been eager before. Silvrith is not an idiot. Thread is Thread. If he says they saw it, they saw it. Besides, it's better to react as if it were true and find out later that it was not, than to react as if it were a false alarm and have Thread falling on our heads. Now put my harness on and let's go. We are wasting time here when we should be gathering the Wings.

P'neil gave himself a mental shake. Artoneth was right, of course. He was going to freeze up if he gave himself time to think about it. People... the whole Weyr... were depending on him to lead. Get into your gear, fight the Thread, and think about the consequences after it's over. He resolutely turned his attention to putting the fighting straps on Artoneth and tightening them. "Contact all the Wingleaders and make sure they know, if you please, Artoneth." P'neil was proud to hear that his voice was calm, with nary a quiver.

His brown obligingly sent out the call to Syth, Tirenth, Seath, and Lancetoth. Syth and Tirenth are already waiting for their Wings.

Pausing only to pull on his flight jacket and snatch up his gloves and helmet, P'neil proceeded to vault up onto Artoneth's back. "All right, Artoneth, take us down." Artoneth needed no more urging than that to drop off the ledge to spiral down to where the Winddancer Wing was to meet.

Artoneth added his calls to the others. ROUSE WEYR, ROUSE WINGS! THREAD THREAD THREAD! THREAD FALLS OVER SALTSPRINGS HOLD. READY YOURSELF TO FIGHT. WINDDANCERS TO ME.

P'neil nodded curtly to N'rek. He could only hope that his worries didn't show too much. And hope that the Weyr would follow the orders of a brownrider.

[C'lyn]

L'kas was just settling down with a mug of klah in the dining cavern when he heard someone shouting. He frowned and set his mug down, standing to look around to see if the other riders in the room had heard the same thing. He hoped he wasn't going crazy.

You're not going crazy mine. Silvrith's has seen Thread. I will meet you in the bowl,[/color] Seath informed his rider, who was running out of the cavern before the bronze had even finished his words. L'kas swore under his breath as he slipped between a couple of drudges. "Get pots of klah going, and bread and whatever else it is you all fix during 'Fall!" he yelled back at the two shocked women.

He raced down the corridors, skidding out into the bowl just as Seath touched down. Dawnflames! Prepare yourselves. Meet in the Bowl with the other wings. Dawnflames to me![/color] Seath bugled loudly, calling to his wing.

L'kas scrambled into his bronze's back, barely seating himself before Seath lifted into the air to take his rider back to their weyr to prepare.

As soon as Seath landed L'kas slipped to the ledge. He raced into the weyr and quickly dressed into his flight gear. Wher hide pants and jacket, helmet and goggles. He grabbed his straps and hurried back to his waiting bronze who was shifting from foot to foot. Seath knelt down to help his rider get the straps into place.

Once that was finished L'kas climbed back into place, strapping himself into place as Seath glided back to the bowl to wait for their wing.

~~~~

C'lyn had just laid down to take a quick rest when the call went out. He shivered for a moment, then shook himself as he jumped from the cot. He changed quickly and carried his helmet and goggles in his hand as he hurried to the infirmary to check on things.

He stood in the door way and smiled as he spotted Gaylen already handling things. He made his way over to the blue rider and leaned down to kiss her cheek tenderly and to hug her close for a moment. "Thank you," he said as he smiled at her.

~~~~


Myari heard the call and she and Valyiath hurried to meet with the rest of their wing, the Dawnflames in their designated spot in the bowl. She saluted L'kas and checked her straps as she waited for sacks of firestone to be brought.

~~~~~~

Kimber and Emberlyn had been gathering their laundry when the call went out. They stared at each other for a long moment, seeing the fear in each others eyes. Kimber hugged her sister hard and Emberlyn clung to her twin.

"We have to do our duty," Emberlyn said as she gently pushed her sister away from her. Kimber nodded and turned to follow her calmer twin out of the room, their laundry forgotten. They hurried to their own weyr to get ready, their dragons meeting them.

Kimber rubbed tears from her eyes and took a deep breath, struggling to keep from losing her breakfast all over the floor. Ferth crooned soothingly to his rider. I will be with you mine. We will be fine,[/color] the brown assured his rider. She nodded and sniffled as she put the straps into place. Once finished she climbed into place and strapped herself in. Ferth glided to the bowl to meet with his wing, the Winddancers.

Emberlyn had only seemed calmer to her sister. She promptly lost her breakfast once she reached the necessary in her weyr. She retched even after her stomach was long empty. She shivered and hugged her arms around herself as she stood straight. She rinsed her mouth out before going into the main chamber of her weyr. She changed shakily, braiding her hair sloppily to put up under her helmet.

Embermine! Please do not worry so! You're Emmith will protect you. Do you not trust me?[/color] he green asked as she watched her rider. Emberlyn smiled faintly "Of course I trust you Emmith," she reassured her dragon as she walked over to her green to put the straps into place.

Once finished Emberlyn shakily climbed into place and strapped herself in. Emmith crooned to her rider as she glided down to the bowl to meet with to others of the Seablades wing.

[Skye]

Skye had just shifted into a comfortable position on her bed, having returned from a very early sweep ride. She was just dozing off to sleep when Calith intruded on her rest.

Thread has been spotted! We must fly and flame mine![/color] Calith informed her rider. Skye rolled out of bed, making a face. She was more then willing to fly against Thread, but she remembered what happened last time. She shook her head and dressed hurriedly, stuffing her hair up into her helmet.

She put the straps onto her green and climbed into place, strapping herself in. Calith stood on the edge of the ledge for a moment, looking down to the bowl. She stepped from the ledge and glided to the bowl, taking her place in their wing.

Skye saluted to M'kel as she began feeding her green fire stone.

[Journye]

Journye was on her way to the Healing Cavern when Lucaith informed her of the call going on. She shuddered and turned to go back to her weyr to change. She went to her blue waiting on the ledge and put his straps into place. She climbed into place and Lucaith glided down to the bowl, settling into his place among the Stormchaser's wing.

Journye glanced around and spotted S'lem and his Blue Griflith in their place in the Seablade's Wing and she remember that he was their Rescue rider. She saw Calysta and her Green Luneth in their spot in the Dawnflames wing and H'ter and his Brown Bediverth in their spot in the Cloudbandits.

She took a deep breath and turned her attention back to her own gathering wing, feeding Lucaith firestone.

((sorry for posting all my charries like that, but I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't be repeating for all of them.))

[Kitari]

The Lower Caverns were quite peaceful this morning, Kitari noted with satisfaction. She had one hand wrapped around a mug of klah, and the other was gripping a record hide, but her attention was being diverted quite frequently to the others in the Dining Cavern. Perhaps it was simply her own change in outlook of late, but the goldrider fancied that people seemed happier now. Alana and P'neil were already showing themselves to be far more capable of leading the Weyr than Sitareh had ever been, and Kitari was mostly content to sit back and assist where needed.

The faint sound of shouting drifted into the Caverns, and Kitari glanced quickly towards the Entrance, forgetting the record hide once again. She squinted slightly, as if that would assist her hearing, and jumped, sloshing klah out of her mug as bugles erupted outside. At the same time, Lefayeth's worried voice reached out for her mind, Silvrith's has spotted Thread! It is falling in Saltsprings Hold!

The record hide was utterly forgotten this time, left in a puddle of spilled klah on the table, as Kitari dashed for the Bowl. She pounded up the steps to her weyr, reaching out to soothe her agitated gold, for Lefayeth was bugling and hissing, slashing her head from side to side. If any queen had wished for flame more, the Jr. Weyrwoman would be surprised.

Once she had Lefayeth properly harnessed, and Lefayeth had checked over Kitari's own gear (I don't think that helmet is on tight enough!), the pair descended to the Bowl to wait on the rest of the Queen's Wing. The floor of the Bowl was already awash in all the colours of the Weyr, as dragons milled to and fro, having harnesses secured and firestone fed to them with as much haste as safely possible. Only once she had gotten ahold of a flamethrower and had Lefayeth waiting patiently in position did Kitari allow herself to glance around at the other Wings. She didn't realize how tightly her jaw was clenched until it relaxed, when she'd finally caught sight of B'kay and Syth.

Will they be all right? she whispered to Lefayeth, heart thumping madly with the rush of it all. She could only imagine what it must be like, preparing to face Thread again after all they'd suffered...

We will watch over them, Lefayeth assured her. Then, she reached out to Syth gently, Be careful... And, she added, with a touch of brusqueness to cover her fear, Or mine and I will not be pleased.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

THREAD IS FALLING!

The explosion nearly sent T'ryis tumbling from bed. Sleep was gone in an instant, and the brownrider struggled to free himself from his furs, stumbling into the outer weyr where Wickhath was perched, gazing over the ledge with whirling eyes. The brownrider went to stand beside his dragon, resting a hand on the brown's shoulder for support as much as in reassurance, as he, too, took in the mad frenzy that had filled the Bowl.

"Again?" he croaked weakly, closing his eyes. Last Fall, they'd been too young to fly in the Wings, but T'ryis had been incredibly grateful for that. Seeing the injured riders hobbling, and sometimes carried, into the Healing Caverns had been too much for the usually resilient Lord Holder's son. Not to mention the cries of pain that countless dragons had voiced, their moans echoing in the Bowl. And Ravyna had come so close to being scored herself, losing that beautiful hair...

"We...we don't have to, we're..." T'ryis tried meekly, glancing up at Wickhath. The fire burning in his dragon's eyes, which flashed vibrant red and orange, quieted his feeble attempts. Even if he was afraid for Wickhath (not to mention himself), the dragon was born to destroy Thread. His instincts could not be denied, and it would be cruel to keep him grounded while that scourge was in the air.

"All right," T'ryis sighed, giving in. With trembling hands (thank Faranth no one was around to see), he harnessed up his fiery brown and adorned his own wherhide clothing. Then, mounting up, they sailed down into the Bowl, and T'ryis began to feed firestone from the waiting bags to Wickhath. He glanced around at the rest of his Wing, the Stormchasers, and his fear vanished in an instant. Ravyna and Igrainth were in his Wing. This was no time to worry about himself!

"Ravyna!" he called impulsively, raising a hand to catch her attention. Wickhath glanced over at Igrainth, sending a quick warm thought while chewing with as much concentration as he could muster.

"I um..." T'ryis continued, suddenly at a loss for words. What did one say before leaping into battle, when the chance was there that one of them might not return? "I'll see you after the Fall." It wasn't a very deep statement, but his voice wavered with conviction. He would see her again after the Fall. She would be okay.

[B'kay]

Gaylen held tight to C'lyn, tighter than normal, longer than normal ... "You had better come back to me," she whispered in his ear and returned his kiss. Watching him stride to meet Greylith for battle was the hardest thing the bluerider had done in a very long time, especially with the memory of the horrendous casualties of the last Fall.

===

B'kay, stone-faced, tough, the old Weyrlingmaster on every inch of his surface, was a mass of worried energy inside. He methodically had Syth greet and encourage each dragon of the Seablades team, passing his confidence and willed strength onto the riders.

But then the deep emotion, the touch he'd been truly searching for, reached him through his bronze. Lefayeth. Kitari. Automatically, the rider's head turned, forgetting for just a moment his wingmembers gathered around him. He sent back love, hope, and encouragement through Syth. The dragons were so deeply bonded, that B'kay knew he could always, no matter how far apart they were, touch Kitari's mind with his own.

You be careful, too, my heart. Eyes open and always moving. We'll come back ... in one piece this time. I promise.


We shall return, Syth echoed, his hope and affection spreading outward to envelope Lefayeth. After all, we shall soon have a clutch to celebrate.

At that confident admission of his dragon's virilty, B'kay couldn't resist turning to Kitari, catching her eyes, and grinning broadly. Who cared if the Seablades caught their Wingleader in a school-boy smile. It could only cheer them on.

And then he raised his arm, fist tight, waiting for the moment to echo the pumped-arm command of the Weyrleader to take to the skies, and turned to....

P'neil.

Brownrider or not, B'kay glared at the man with the utmost respect on his face, a visual demonstration to his Wing that they must all look to the Weyrleader in unison, no matter what the Weyr gossips might be muttering.

====

Ravyna's heart skipped several beats when T'ryis and Wickhath joined their Wing. Both comfort and fear raced through her as her eyes caught the gaze he turned to her. It was their first Fall, and Wickhath was so young....

Wickhath is strong and wise, he will fly well. Igrainth reprimanded her rider's worries, demonstrating the confidence all dragons must hold in order to safely fly a fall.

"You're right, Love, he is," she said aloud, and smiled softly toward T'ryis. She nodded, sending through Igrainth to Wickhath to the brownrider she held dear to her heart.... You shall see us after the Fall, my dear. You just try to avoid us!

She gave him a wink that belied her worries, and hoped that small gesture would help him tap into the instincts of his dragon.