Legendary - Archith's Flight [E]

[summerrain]

He hadn't realized that the Queen would Rise so soon after his arival. The thought pleased him, and a rumble resounded through his chest. His had been away, familiarizing himself with the Weyr. Quickly, Aldith found the mind he was seeking.

S'ricoMine, Archith, the Queen, Rises.

That was all he needed to say. S'rico had been, somehow, near the Weyrwoman's Weyr after having gotten himself lost amidst the seemingly never-ending hallways within the Weyr. And Snowstorm wasn't with him at the moment, so he didn't have her to help him. However, he followed one of the other Riders into the room, eyes blazing with the feelings flooding over to him from Aldith.

Aldith had been sunning himself in what was left of the day's light and woke to the Queen spiralling down from far above. He stood and flared his wings, the bright colors shimmering in the sunset. He roared as loud as he could, announcing his acceptance of her challange, then launched himself into the sky. He made sure to give her plenty of room to maneuver as she wanted, flicking his Crimson-tipped tail back and forth. All 38 feet of Bronze-Crimson brilliance shone in the sunset, and his eyes swirled with the heat of the Flight. He watched Archith with interest. The Queen. How would she react to his coloring? How would she react to his late arival on the scene? He knew that getting noticed is how the Kings won the Queens, and he was much noticed already.

[Kaya]

Archith kept glancing forward, to stream the air and plan her path away, and back, to admire and evade the suitors behind her. The embellishments Ancalanath added to her own routine started to impress her, but then a thought that she might be outperformed put a hot snort of air through her nostrils. She sped away and ahead, but still looked back, admiring. She didn't seem able to make one course of her future, but rather very many possibilities.

The deep thrum from the Bronze-Black above caught her attention and she strove to see his dark form clearly in the low light. It was enough to avoid him, the strangest one following her. Still all the suitors were alluring, and he was dark and deep and unknown, and she wasn't sure if she liked that. Still she was conflicted.

Now sure she was away from those two she found Mosiliath again, and he did no loops and sang no song and called no pleading attention to himself. He would then be stable, not try to outdo her, but it was he who had arrived mid-Hatching, but he had swallowed his showy entrance and taken a quiet seat, and even apologized later. He was a reasonable dragon, knew himself and his place and was a good male most days...but did she like that?

She even acknowledged her forth suitor, smaller but agile and healthy all the same. He was not as grandiose, but she knew him and he was fun and a good and loyal dragon. Perhaps in another sky he flew with the heart of a King.

She looked away from them all. She knew Quiorith was above her now, if not some of the others, and that was unacceptable. She, having considered them all, knew now that for her glory she could not escape the sky. It was their home, and she didn't want to leave it behind.

She was starting to retrace her thoughts for each of the four as she made her way up, though slower than before. Then she saw something in the corner of her eye. A flick of red. Kronikoth? She turned her head, and a scowl came across her face. Another strange King in her sky, who had the audacity to show up late. She growled menacingly at him, making it clear he should keep his distance. She was displeased with both the Crimson and this new intruder. She let the anger find her muscles and give them a new burst of strength. She shot up into the air and rose above the males again. They were done wooing her. She was Archith-Rilora, the Gold sun of the night sky, and she would not be brought down by one of those insulate Kings. A new roar struck the air with energy enough to light its path ablaze and the grumbling, displeased thunder followed it. What had she been considering, leaving her destiny to rise higher and higher still until there was no direction but down?!

So she climbed still, wings beating down the air onto the heads of the Kings below. She wished it would strike them and leave these tail chasers tumbling towards the ground she would never see again.

[summerrain]

Aldith made no more noise. He was used to getting his way with show, but perhaps that didn't work with this Queen. Each Queen, even Queens of the same color, had different tastes in what attracted them. Perhaps it was because they had yet to meet in person. Their riders had met previously, but the two dragons had yet to be aquainted. He saw her watching him, and managed to lower his head in silent apology before she spiralled upward. He followed her, his flame-scarred tail going unnoticed now. He was young, agile, and could at least keep up with her.

Maybe getting noticed was not what would win the heart of this Gold. He had Chased some Queens that had liked knowing that they would not be outperformed. He changed his aproach, falling back behind her just so. He had no flame to show, but his hide was the closest thing to fire that a dragon could get. Well, any besides a Flame dragon, anyway. He was a strategist, and even in Flight that instinct came forth. Still he kept his distance from her. Angering a Queen in Flight was never a good idea, worse than angering a Queen on a normal day.

He would have to think more if he wanted to win the Gold's heart.

[Moo]

It was a fantastic evening to fly, and despite the throbbing pain in his wing, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. When he noticed Archith was watching him, Mosiliath turned his head and stared right back, eyes spinning with humility as he followed her further up into the sky. He knew she was considering his qualities, and for that he almost wished he were as spontaneous as Ancalanath or Sith. Even Quiorith.

Mosiliath glanced over to his friends, the Cloud and the Flame, but only for a moment. He was not a terribly interesting or smart dragon, like they were – but he knew who he was through experience, with the scars to prove it, and at the very least gave himself some hope that the Queen understood that.

The unfamiliar roar from behind them nearly made him halt his own Chase, but Mosiliath kept himself from looking when Archith growled. So they had a latecomer! But who else could it be? Kronikoth? Why had he not shown up before?

All of a sudden, Archith shot ahead of all of them, her intense, thundering roar cracking the skies. The wind howled in her wake as she ascended, fueled by passion and anger and ravenous for height. This was it! The final Chase was on!

With a deep, throaty purr, Mosiliath quivered with excitement and flew higher, faster, heart pounding as he knew it was only a matter of time before she chose the victor. He longed to roar back, to echo her enthusiasm, knowing it would only use more energy – and that he couldn’t afford anymore. Stretching his large wings to their fullest, ignoring the burning in his scar tissue, Mosiliath raked at the skies in pursuit of the molten Queen.

The pain he would gladly embrace. It was now or never.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Ancalanath’s hide quivered when Archith’s eye paused on him, the very tip of his tail flicking a couple times to each side in the moment before she moved on, looking at each of the contestants in turn. Each time she looked, each time moved on. Ancalanath felt a brief stab of disappointment, the night was young, the air cool and comfortable for flight, the ground still warm enough for thermals to reach them, even as high as they were — Not that thermals represented much in a Flight, only a column of warmer air through which one passed. Any who locked their wings out so as to ride a thermal skyward lost all hope of winning — he was enjoying the Flight, had no desire for it to end as of yet.

Ancalanath lost his focus for a brief moment when an new voice roared out behind them. A new contender, another King in this chase. That was puzzling, why had not he joined the pursuit earlier, with the rest of them? With a near silent growl, Ancalanath pushed the matter aside, to be thought about later.

He made that decision not a moment too soon. Archith, Golden, guiding sun, shot up and away. Her roar shattered the sky with its thunder, as her wings sent back gusts of wind, fueling the power of her ascent. This was it then, the final test.

With a roar, Ancalanath brought his wings down, striving for height in pursuit of the Queen. No call for attention, that roar, rather it was a declaration of intent, intent to pursue until the end of the sky and even beyond, if that were the Queen’s desire. Maybe it would have been wiser to contain that roar, to save that energy, but why should only the future be thought of, with no thought to the present. Besides, he was young and strong yet, and the sky had been his playground since he was a mere weyrling, he had energy to spare yet, even at the beginning of the final stretch.

[Shoki]

Archith sped away from the pursing males, Quiorith watching. Well it would hardly be like the Gold to let them off easily. However, her discerning eye went back to the males, exciting Quiorith. He could not see her thoughts, but he hadn't been dismissed as irrelevant. He clung to that. They were all still in this game, and that gave him some extra fire to use. Hopefully it would be enough. She started to rise again, when another roar broke through the air. The Cloud turned his head to see who was late, completely baffled as to why this new dragon was coming in late. Quiorith didn't recognize the King, but his presence irked him.

R'le was distantly aware that someone else was heading into the room, but the rider didn't move. He merely watched, understanding the displeasuring coming across the bond between him and Quiorith. Racing dragon that was all about the chase. So he would be annoyed with lateness, out of principle. R'le turned his attention back to the opposite wall, and the flight. He would find out about the tall rider later.

Quiorith hardly had time to pay attention to the tardy dragon, he had to follow as the Gold roared and started into the sky. He heard a much softer noise, and it looked like the feline was ready to pounce now. A roar from Ancalanath meant he couldn't dawdle. Gathering the fire from the competition and the annoyance at the late dragon he pushed his wings down, shooting up in a dash after the Queen. He couldn't back out now, he had to push forward. Each wingbeat was pain, though he had energy from his feelings to push him forward.

Uncertainty attacked the Cloud, like a physical blow. What if he wasn't good enough? Too small, not strong enough, too single minded on flying to be chosen. The thoughts were not Quiorith's but they attacked him all the same. He lost his focus for a moment, but then recovered and made an even greater effort.

So what? So what if he was not good enough? That wasn't hard with Archith, since she was such a glorious dragoness. He would admit he was not as wonderful as her. He had to try! She all but demanded them to give their everything for her. So he had too. A quiet support was felt, and Quiorith took it and channeled it into a graceful corkscrew upward. He could do it now, because for the first time he had someone rooting for him. The dragon was still silent as he maneuvered, and his wings still hurt, but he felt like he could fly forever now. She just had to lead the way.

[Terayne]

Night and darkness were not his allies right now, but Sith didn't concern himself with that, only with following the glorious beauty that was Archith, the Queen of Pern! Her eye fell on him, and he managed-barely-to contain the shiver of excitement that slid over him, almost as if she had physically touched him. Fire burned in his veins, his wings beating powerfully, thundering through the night as he pursued the object of his desire. He could feel strength coming from a second source, recognized it for his annoyed but supportive Bonded and threw it into his movements, shifting so he was slightly off to the side of the Queen, though he made a concerted effort to not be above her. That was never a good idea when a Queen was in Flight. High and fast, the best Flights, made for even better clutches, and those, as much as the Queen-

Stop. Now. Just fly, you silly beast.

The words reminded him he was thinking too much, and he growled in annoyance at himself. He made the sound seem as if he was displeased with the oddity that joined them in the sky though, late. One could not be late to a Flight. There was no way to be chosen if that happened! It was an INSULT. Growling more fully now, he then shook his head a single time and turned whirling eyes back to the molten sun as she sped upwards, angling himself to follow her. Again, that soft bass rumble came from deep in his chest, carrying the promise of strength to back her's, a will she could lean on IF she needed it. He didn't think she would, but one never could know.

It started to shift, to slide just a touch higher, staying in that bass range, but actually carrying now, a true song, warbling and soft, admiration for her beauty, her agility and fire, sliding through the voice that gave it. The thunder of his wings added a beat to it, giving it a pulsing life, and he continued to let it flow, knowing it MIGHT be wasted strength, but wanting her to know how he felt all the same. She was beauty personified, no other creature, not even the pale thing that tried to light the sky during the day, could match her. She was grace, she was glory. She outshone all others and made even other Queens look weak and pale!

[Kaya]

She was searching for something. She flew higher, for perhaps what drove her was above. She could name so many of the things she now desired, but one last, important thing, remained elusive. She could not put words or feelings to it, just that she searched for it. Higher still.

She saw Quiorith’s corkscrew up, Ancalanath’s powerful wing strokes, Mosiliath’s sturdy attentiveness, and that dark King’s ingenuity to be noticed even in the low light. She refused to acknowledge again the late one in the back. She thought over them each again, laughter alight in her eyes as she skimmed over their hides. They had presented themselves well, but she gained still more pleasure in watching them admire and not have. Their longing drove her own, but depriving them of what they most wanted, there was a sort of maniacal enjoyment she derived from it. She let the feeling roll over her skin as she flew on, imagining what they must be thinking. Loud, hearts pounding, chests swelling, throats roaring, she did taunt them so. She flicked her tail in their faces.

Yes, the songs, roars and throaty sounds from the suitors behind her were enticing, buts he would go higher yet. Still, she would turn and glance at them, her excitement at being watched mirroring that of the males behind her. A match, she would have one, but first...higher. Her wings were starting to blaze in the painful sort of way, and the darker males behind her were the smoke to her igniting fire. Still, she couldn't stop, turn around and accept one of them. Not yet. No, not yet. The sun would reach its zenith, and then turn.

Mixed. Restless and longing to stop, to rest; on fire, molten and gleaming hide in the faintest light of dusk, on fire as her muscles burned and cried for stop; filled with heat and energy, ready to select a male, and cold, sly and coy, refusing to claim that which was already hers; she had to choose, yet couldn't chose to choose. She still rose, the last few desperate feet. She would find what she sought; the future.

The first star of the evening she saw ahead, and it called to her and she followed it. Her tired mind painted in a plethora of other stars, shapes and things she didn't know how to describe. A lovely sort of daydream meshed with raw, undirected imagination. She sought reassurance, and it was not to be found. The future was as uncertain as ever, unless, that one little flickering star, which remained while the rest of her imagined sky vanished-- that one, small...hope? Was there ever a Flight so full of mixed thought?

She was thrust back into the moment by a great pain in her wing. It refused to go further. She had seen it, she had risen to the highest height, and now she was fated to fall back to the world she had so passionately tried to escape. She would become no star dragon that day.

Her burning, frozen wing refused to flex again. She was done. She locked it open. She would not fall; she would not fall alone.

The Flight had been wordless and it took a great effort to speak. She had to admit a need, and it was difficult as it was humbling. Archith-Rilora, the two minds pulling at each other, the one groundside approved. She was more powerful for it.

Ancalanath!

[Terayne]

As the Queen rose ever higher, Sith continued his song, but also stayed carefully below the lovely lady of his heart. He did not wish to outshine her, did not wish to make it seem as if he was trying to be her better, when all he wanted was to impress her with his strength and cunning in finding a way to be seen even in this night-placed Flight. As she stilled though, and her wing locked, the King crooned softly, his tone concerned for her, and soared a little higher, not wishing her to fall and at a loss as to what to do.

To interfere was to risk her wrath, and yet he did not wish to see that unparalleled beauty marred by an ugly fall! However, even he heard her call, and it was not him she named, which caused him to soar away from her and out of the younger King's way. The Flame would outshine her, he felt, which was her own mistake to have made. However, he did not know him well enough to know anything beyond that, and maybe he was missing some vital information. Either way, he had not been chosen, and therefore was to leave.

Rumbling a congratulations and a wish for their happiness, he turned and slid away into the night, heading back towards the Weyr, and only now acknowledging the screaming heat burning in his muscles. He wanted relief after this, but knew he was doomed to failure in that regard, at least for now. Sighing in his draconic way, he shifted slightly, angling his body to try and reduce the heat, the drag and pain.

In Rilora's Weyr, Q'rin came to himself with a start, although he could still feel Sith's lingering passionate heat in his blood, and, growling at the dragon and himself for not seeing this coming, the blonde left the weyr silently, heading for the Lower Caverns. Perhaps he could get some drudge to aid him?

[summerrain]

He flared his wings, slowing him. He hadn't expected to win this Flight. He had only been here for a month, if that long. If anything, this was good research for getting to know the Gold's tastes better. He silently glided away on an updraft, landing on the very same ledge he'd been napping on. The evening stars were beginning to show themselves, so he made his way from the ledge to the nest prepared for him in S'rico's Weyr. He yawned, surprisingly being in a good degree of control. He hadn't been truly affected by the Flightlust, having woke only just before the Gold chose a suitor.

The Flame would outshine the Gold. That was one thing that Aldith not risk doing. He reached S'rico's mind easily, the young man also being in some control of his own actions.

S'rico felt the end of the Flight before he felt the touch of the dragon's mind. He had already slinked out of the Weyrwoman's Weyr, and had headed down the hall to the Rider's Weyrs. A little pop sounded at his shoulder, and a white creature materialized from between to settle there. It was his White flit. She sent him the images he needed, the Flight having momentarily tampered with his ability to remember the location of his own Weyr. Of course, this was not Ista. He had been meaning to talk to the Weyrwoman in more detail about that, but that was the only thought on the matter that crossed his mind.

He scratched the White flit's eye ridge with his little finger, the tiny creature draping her tail around his neck. He decided to take some time to himself in his Weyr, then he would see what the WingLeaders needed done. After what he'd heard about the incident with the Headwoman, he knew help could be used all around the Weyr.

At the moment, though, all those thoughts were at the back of his mind. For now, he would take a candlemark or two for himself. Well, himself and Aldith, but it wasn't too different.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Ancalanath flew on, ever higher, the wind of his flight slipping along his body. He would continue to fly, to continue to soar, all goals absent except that of impressing the guiding star, she who would guide them to the stars themselves. In one part of his mind, he was aware of tiredness, of an exhaustion of flesh and erosion of will, and there he began to hope that soon the flight would be over. The rest of his mind, caught in the joy of flight, the glory of the pursuit, the connection between ability and desire, desire pushing ever on, to higher triumphs and harder tasks.

Archith slowed then, her wings extending. She seemed to hover there, unmoving, a moment of perfect stillness, perfect silence. Something was wrong; one of her wings was locked and un-flexing. Ancalanath edged closer, not wanting to see her fall, and then her voice, sounding in speech after so long in silence, called one word, a name, his name.

Ancalanath surged forward. Given permission, he would not hold back. I am here. He was flying to catch, catch, not merely chase anymore, the Golden sun that was Archith, to add himself as a halo of flames to her golden star. After all, even if they were to be a shooting star together, they would fall to ground in style.

———
There was, in T’kar’s experience, a small part of the mind remained aware of the surroundings of the human partner’s, that was to say, his, body for most of the flight. He was aware, for instance, that Bel was under the bed. He was aware of the other Kingriders in the room. D’gan, S’rico, a stranger. It wasn’t the right tally, Ancalanath was aware of more competition, an additional dragon for which there appeared to be no rider. At least, he had no awareness of another competitor’s presence within the room. He wouldn’t remember much of these moments the next day, but in each moment it was crystal clear, like the things perceived as one falls into sleep but is aware that sleep must not happen yet. Of course, he could never sleep, not now, anticipation served as stimulant enough, building and building, increasing until under any ordinary circumstances it would have been unbearable. Finally, release.

“Rilora…” T’kar started, but his ability to speak was somewhat lacking, probably because his mind was still mostly stuck within that of Ancalanath. Words finally formed, the last ditch efforts of T’kar’s purely human mind. “I love you.”

[Shoki]

The moment had come. Despair or exultation would come for all. As Archith climbed higher and higher, she slowed, gravity catching up with her and then just at the moment that she would fall, she called out for one to catch her. It was not Quiorith. A sort of uneven feeling cam across to him, disappointment and pride all mingled together. Odd, he thought he would be much more disappointed. Still, there was some matter of satisfaction he got, even if he wasn't pleased to have lost. He changed his destination, away to where he belonged. He was so very tired. However, he got a little bit of pride from being able to keep going, to the end. He'd lost but he hadn't given up. That was the best sort of race for him. And yet again he went against some very good competition. Still, these were unpredictable things. Never knew what could happen next time around.

R'e was still unhinging himself from Quiorith's mind as some of the riders filed out. Finally, he could get away. A vague smile rested on his face. Well, he was actually happy with how it had gone. R'le was never a big believer in backpedaling but he was very pleased with how things had gone. Quiorith hadn't won but he played by the standards he held in high regard and hadn't come out looking the fool. The rider stood up properly and started heading out, only briefly glancing in the room he hadn't entered. An amused look spread across his face. Where would it all go from here he wondered. The thought was only with him for a moment as he took his leave, other thoughts closing in on his mind.