Death Brings Three | Saphireth's Hatching (RMW / 13.15)

[Nicole]

Hatching Sands at sunset, pink and orange striped with smokestacks.
Candidates, check in on this thread first.

They had lost themselves in their grief, at first; but then Saphireth laid her eggs on the Hatching Sands, three glistening and pristine beauties, and rider and dragon both threw themselves into caring for them. Saphireth hovered over them anxiously, as if what had befallen her dearest friend would befall her children; nobody came near them except for Elora, who – with the help of her precious DarkBlue – guarded them night and day.

They didn’t talk much to anybody, because what could they possibly say? No, much better to keep to themselves – away from D’ziel and the memories, away from people who might bring it up – and to focus on the future of the three before them. Saphireth would only leave to hunt and stretch her wings. Elora only left to sneak food from the kitchens.

They both slept on the Sands – Elora curled up on Saphireth’s back like a giant bed, and Saphireth with her nose directly against the largest of the three eggs.

So when the first Egg began to rock, they were both there, ready and waiting. Elora pulled a mask over her face, refused to let anybody see her worries, and smiled as Saphireth threw back her head and trumpeted, inviting the Candidates.

It was time to see what loss had bought them.

[Shoki]

“Kashpa! You said you’d take us!” Two excited boys tugged at her dress, and a small crowd was forming. A mischievous grin broke over her face and she leaned down with a smooth motion.

“Well now, are we all gonna listen to your gracious harper friend and be nice and respectful?”

“Yes!” The chorus resounded. The harper grinned all the wider and flourished drastically.

“Then follow me!” She paused to look at the mothers, who were nodding appreciatively. A time away from their children would be good, since everything was so busy and things still hurt. All the children she were taking to the hatching were refugees, and Kashpa had been trying for a while now to do what she could to help. Often baby-sitting, or lightening the mood. She’d arranged to perform at the hatching feast, but everything was on a smaller scale now. Still, everything would be exciting and fun, she would see to it.

They soon filed in to the hatching, Kashpa careful to keep the group respectful as they filed into the stands. The excitement, even in tragedy was good. A healing experience.

[Moo]

Mosiliath was the first dragon to arrive -- or rather, had already been prowling near and around the Sands when the first summons was trumpeted. He had been lying in wait near the outskirts of the Sands, and had been watching the eggs, the DarkBlue female and her Rider, off and on for the past sevenday. He knew better than to approach them (or any clutching female; that was just asking for trouble), but still he couldn't keep away. His unusual fixation had not gone unnoticed by the other dragons and Riders of the Weyr - D'gan in particular - but he ignored them all. They didn't know any better. And how unusual was it, really?

After all, it wasn't every day that he would witness the hatching of his own hatchling's clutch!

Once the call to muster had been sounded, Mosiliath's eyes turned blue with pleasure. The time had arrived! He thrummed his characteristic, deep hum in his throat and began to settle down and arrange his large bulk in a choice spot next to the Sands. He wouldn't settle for any seat less than the best.

Curling his tail around his feet, Mosiliath waited for the arrival of the Candidates, the Weyrling Master, and D'gan. Especially D'gan. He wanted him here to witness this hatching in particular. And while he bided his time, the large Tiger reached his mind out to his own hatchling. Had it really been so long since she herself had hatched? It felt like only yesterday since he and Ayleneth had them!

You laid your eggs well, Saphireth. I wish you and your hatchlings well today!

[Breeze]

To say that Kyton was nervous would be an understatement. A severe understatement. He stood in front of a mirror ruffling his hair only to flatten it again as he decided that he didn’t like the look. He didn’t want to be late to the hatching, there would certainly be more candidates than eggs and if he got there early he would probably get a better spot, however his hair would simply not do anything he wished it to do. By the egg, if a dragonet only wants me for my hair I might as well return to Cliffside. He gave up on flattening it, quickly restyling it in the manner he usually had it styled, And as for the people watching on, well, they’ll be looking at the other Candidates. He donned the white robes, tugging on a pair of boots as he made his way to the sands.

You probably won’t impress, the small voice in the back of his mind spoke up, and he frowned, shutting down the thoughts. He couldn’t focus on any of that, if he started thinking like that he wouldn’t be able to put on the show of courage that was generally expected of the Candidates. He hoped at least this hatching would brighten the mood of the Weyr, he hadn’t known those that had died, but he recognized the somber tone that appeared at certain times and it bothered him that he had no way to fix it. He straightened to his full height, tugging his clothes wrinkle free before striding onto the sands, giving a slight bow to Saphireth. He wasn’t sure if it was something that the dragon would require, but these were her eggs after all and respect should be shown. Then he turned and took a place where he would have a good view, eyes fixed on the eggs.

[Shoki]

Pounce sat on her master’s chest. Like always she was getting a scratch under her chin as he stared at the ceiling. D’ziel was drowning in his thoughts again. The feline poked her nose up when a call came up, and kneaded her master’s chest. D’ziel’s eyes flicked but his expression didn’t deviate from his blank gaze. However a voice came to him and he twitched, his face contorting into a frown.

We must go.

No. The Moonlight flinched. Things were still incredibly tense between them, since D’ziel hadn’t been interesting in talking to anyone, much less Hocteth. Their minds were part of each other, but more like a distant skyline rather than standing in it, observing it as the landscape. Wing practice was almost mechanical in its conversation, so anything more emotional than that hat them both on edge.

It’s only-

Don’t you dare say proper. Just don’t.

I’m going without you then. The moonlight, started to open his wings when he heard a hiss and a bang as D’ziel hit the floor.

No, don’t do that, stay away from that hatching! D’ziel was suddenly panicked, and the Moonlight paused.

I have to see them hatch. Regardless of anything else, he had sired these eggs, and they should come to be fine dragonets. He had to be there now, at least for this moment. But D’ziel was dead set against it, he could feel it.

You’ll end up hurting people with your presence. You can’t do that.

But-

No.

You go then! Send to me images of that hatchlings.

A stab of fresh pain went through D’ziel and he looked down, distressed. He couldn’t do that, could he? He didn’t want everyone looking at me, accusing him. But they wouldn’t be, they would be looking at the eggs. That is, as long as he didn’t advertise his presence. And he wanted… To at least see if Elora looked okay. He didn’t really want her to see him though, since he was pretty sure she hated him. He grabbed a hat, changed into clothes that had no knots and were well covering him up and he headed there, keeping his eyes down and his hat down low to keep things easy. Hocteth rested hoping that D’ziel wouldn’t forget about him. Things were still touchy, he didn’t know if anything but time would make it okay.

[Kaya]

His lungs burned. His shifts for the fight had become more intense, especially as the flames burned and threatened crops in the northern stretch of Golden Flight's territory. But Holt had a brave face on all of it and was going to the Hatching with Mau. They'd both seen better days, frequented the Aerie more often than they liked. Holt wanted to help, not so much be helped, but as it was it couldn't be, well, helped.

On their way in he spotted D'ziel. Holt had noticed something off about the man, but with the fires and all the time spent in the infirmary clinic he hadn't had the strength to go ask.

"D'ziel," he called, a vague rasp in his voice. It hurt. "Haven't seen you in a while. ...I believe I heard these eggs are also Hocteth's?" His eyes gave congratulations but he withheld the word, in case he had heard wrong. The darkness creeping in under his eyes didn't support his outward insistence that he was rested and fine. Before He'd barely finished his question strong coughs shook him. This was what some of the miners in real bad shape had looked like on the bad days. In a few moments he was able to stop coughing. He smiled anyway, trying to go on believing he was fine. The work wasn't done yet. He had to be strong enough to go help.

[Shoki]

Mau wondered if they looked like death warmed over. They both sounded like it. She herself had her throat feeling like an angry dragon, quite frankly. Her chest hurt from the amount of coughing she had been doing in the past days, which was probably worse. Not that she mentioned it, but she was pretty sure she was getting sick on top of this. She certainly felt tired beyond the normal weariness all the hard work caused. And she had a headache today. Just grand. Still, she was going to the hatching with Holt and that was enough to give her a smile. Sick or no, she was going to have fun.

When Holt caught sight of D’ziel and spoke to him, he jumped a little. Mau tilted her head a bit but keps a smile up. He looked kinda skittish today. The other rider didn’t respond before Holt was wracked with coughing and Mau took his hand and squeezed it. They were both on and off like that, but there wasn’t much to do about it. D’ziel looked up at Holt, and Mau noticed that though he looked concerned, there was a sort of flatness to his expression, it was hard to pin down.

“Are you okay?” There it was again, flat words, like a flower pressed flat and dried. “And yeah, Hocteth’s.” D’ziel looked up as Mau started coughing this time, though she tried really hard to not grimace. It hurt to cough. But there was nothing to do about that.

“Tell him congrats for me.” Mau’s voice resembled Holt’s in the raspy quality it had at the moment, but she tried to keep upbeat.

“Sure.” It’s what he said, but he didn’t sound like he was sure.

[Nicole]

Mosiliath's words fluttered through Saphireth's brain; fuzzy, still, with her Rider's grief, and her own anger. Dragons did not live in the past and present like other beings - they lived purely in the moment - so her grief for Metanath the Black had passed, the anger that arose when she looked for him and he was not there did not. She forgot, sometimes, when Elora was sleeping, or when she was occupied. She always knew otherwise. Elora's grief let her know.

But today was not a day for grief, and the excitement of the Weyr was even perking up her otherwise downtrodden Rider. So she brushed Mosiliath's mind affectionately. Thank you.

Elora tugged on a strand of her hair, tucking it neatly behind her ear. Her clothes were flawless - habits died hard, and habits were all she had nowadaways - so even though her wrists looked a bit too skinny, and the circles under her eyes were a bit too dark, she looked... okay, almost. And with the smile on her face, ready to face today. Ready to see her dragon's dragons.

The biggest one - the one that Saphireth rested her nose against the most - rocked vehemently from side to side as the Candidates began to file onto the Sands. And then it fell and hit its side with a large thump.

A crack appeared.

[summerrain]

Ayleneth again found herself at a Hatching for Rainbow Mists. But of course she would never /between/ when Hers was still expecting. The child was going to come soon, Yuki kept insisting that much. The woman was stuck in the infirmary, so Ayleneth showed up alone.

{My little one, you have grown so beautiful,} she told Saphireth. {I am certain that your Hatchlings will be just as lovely as you are.}
_______

The rest watched silently. Tera still felt a burning anger toward Elora and Saphireth, but she had finally begun to venture out of her weyr. She was a changed girl, though. Her eyes, previously bright and cheerful, were now dark. She was forced to face reality, and it didn't completely agree with her. But they were obligated to see who the newest batch of Weyrlings would be. And that White, the one across the Sands on another ledge, was bound to Clutch soon, if at all. Whites did Clutch, right? There was record of one White Clutching an Azure somewhere... She was certain she'd read it.
____

Wynah was only here because of Alzdith. The Sunlace was determined to begin their teaching careers as early as possible, even though thy couldn't technically even fly with the other Wingriders yet. But Hatchings were always exciting. Wynah found herself looking forward to it.
_____

Kokoro kept her place on Angeth's back. Three eggs, this Hatching would not take long. Kokoro had many other things on her mind. Had she even attended a Hatching since Angeth's? She sighed quietly as the humming started up. Only time would tell what the next days would bring...

[Moo]

L'ras and Teth arrived amid the throng of spectators; the only difference being that they, instead of attending in the stands with the rest of them, took up their customary positions on the Sands. The Brown dragon walked gingerly behind the Candidate -- one so far, one of a possible three -- and over the hot sand, and sat down near his Rider, who was at present fixed on the cracking egg.

Teth adjusted his wings and looked out at the DarkBlue female. It is a shame what happened after her Flight, but three eggs…three is good. He added his hum to the rest of the melody. That means three more Weyrlings. It is an exciting day. I can hardly wait to see what colors will hatch.

A minute smile curved L'ras' lips. It never gets old, I agree. But Teth…We should also consider what this smoke would do to the lungs of the hatchlings. What do you think of the first idea?

As long as they can manage with it on, and they get used to it early on, I see no reason why the idea would be a bad one. Do you think we should provide enough for the rest of the bunch?

The Weyrling Master glanced over to one of their group in attendance -- Wynah and Alzdith. His smile faded slightly. Only if they seem to need it. The larger dragons have been having difficulty as well, so…we'll take care of the smaller ones first, especially the new hatchlings. Then we'll work our way up.

Teth nodded to himself, a decidedly human reaction. His eyes flickered green-blue. That sounds like a good plan to me. Shall I inform them that we may require additional leather?

Not yet. But soon.

#

Swallowing down her heart -- which had leapt up into her throat since the moment she stepped on the Sands, since she approached the large DarkBlue and her eggs and bowed her respects -- Shazza smoothed down her dark, wild, flyaway hair and too-large Candidate's robes and tried to relax. It was no big deal, really! She had watched Hatchings before…and it all seemed so easy then. The Candidates had no problem Impressing a hatchling, or so it seemed.

But that was watching, being a spectator, her nerves reminded her, hissed in her ear. Today is far more than sitting and watching. Today…today, I could be the one Impressing a dragon.

The thought lifted her spirits, if only briefly. It would be a dream come true if it happened. And with three eggs…there were three chances. But if she didn't Impress, if the unthinkable happened, then…then it was back to Stormy Plains, back to being a drover, back to that awkward, uncomfortable courtship with Marek. He was her friend, not marriage material! It didn't matter that his family owned one of the larger shares of herdbeasts in the Western fold.

Shazza risked a glance to the stands; she could see her parents off to the side. But unlike the other Riders, they weren't smiling or talking or waving. They were biding their time, waiting to take her back home. They had never understood her desire to stand at a Hatching, to bond to something larger and more intelligent than a cow. A dragon! And one up close, not far away like G'rend and Sumith usually were. How could anyone not get excited about that?!

But she was getting ahead of herself. The eggs, while rocking, had not broken open yet. Nothing had happened yet…yet, she was certain that everything was about to. Her life was about to change. And with that idea in mind, Shazza steeled her nerves, put on a brave smile, and turned her attention back to the clutch in front of her.

#

Calmly, quietly, another woman flowed through the crowd and into the stands. Her long, curling hair, now with more grey hair than last turn, had been pulled up and away from her neck. She carried a bulging, leather purse in her hands, and her clothing consisted of simple, spun cloth. All together, anyone watching her would see someone rather plain, weathered, and of no consequence, which was just fine with her. She had been walking for quite some time, and was looking forward to sitting down and observing the events to come. She knew what would happen; she had seen it happen before, once.

True, she had been hoping to see other Hatchings down the line, but now…now she knew it would be her last.

Selecting an unobtrusive seat to the left -- it would assure her the latest time to leave the Sands, which worked in her favor with what she had been instructed to do -- the woman sat down and placed her hands and the purse in her lap. She stared down at the Sands from her vantage point, and her hard, blue eyes focused not on the eggs, or even the broodmother, but the young Rider at her side.

Elora…Her name is Elora.

Her chin trembled with the sudden surge of emotions, and her eyes stung with fresh tears, but she would not look away and she would not let her tears fall. To do so would be a disservice, and she would not blacken the day of others with her mood. She just had to wait until the Hatching had finished, the spectators had exited the Sands, and then she would be able to do what needed to be done.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

If she had the strength to do it at all.

[falcon]

Dead.

That's the word that's been floating around the Weyr, whispering in everyone's ear. Dead. Dead dragon, dead rider. Dragon met dragon years ago and it will never to stop-- a cycle of death until all the dragonmen are nothing but savages.

Richet floated above this, disconnected by a lifetime of being raised in the Hold, where death was a thing that happens but not to anything Richet wants to lose. A bird here, a bird there, but nothing more and nothing less. People that Richet loved don't die.

Richet moved as if she's above it all, head high even as she entered the Sands. Dragons were also a thing that happen, but not to her. The many other riders spoke of mauling like it's a persistent danger, but Richet's arrogance was her armor. She stood in her thin white robe as if she were twenty feet tall instead of five.

Nothing will touch her. She decided this at the start.

She bowed slowly, then took her place with the others, head high and smile firmly in place.

Above it.

Unbreakable.

[Breeze]

Kyton hadn’t even thought of looking up in the stands until he noticed the girl next to him-Shazza he thought her name was-glance up. He knew that he shouldn’t expect any of his family to come, but maybe just maybe, they might have come. Maybe at least his mother found a way to come with his younger sister. He tore his gaze away from the cracked egg that was now on its side, quickly chancing a look through the stands. No one, as he first thought.

He widened his stance slightly to allow for more balance without much effort, clasping his hands behind his back as he fixed his eyes back on the eggs. This is what he had to focus on. At least his standings to impress today looked reasonable-three candidates so far, three eggs. But what if you are not what they are looking for? What if instead of choosing you they- He cut the thought off, frowning, it would do no good to think what might happen if one of the dragonets didn’t find the person they were looking for. That was the last thing the Weyr needed.

He wiped the frown from his face, exhaling slowly to calm himself. The hatching will go well, everything will be fine, and there will be no more death. He reassured himself, relaxing his posture and forcing himself to believe the sentence. He shifted his weight to rest on his right leg, eyes focusing in on the egg on its side, waiting for something to happen.

[shapeshifter]

Saphierah just found herself staring blankly at the eggs. She was waiting for a crack to be heard, for a movement to be made. All the while she was hoping that she didn't become disappointed by failure to Impress. She had already failed once, should she fail again?

She stood there in the sweltering heat coming from the Sands, ignoring the pain that was radiating through her body from her burning feet. The sandals provided for them only did so much good.

She had a peaceful look in her Green eyes, wishing for maybe a beautiful little Black dragonet, maybe a Midnight...or even a Brown! Something with an array of shades and intelligence. She had a peaceful nature about her, a grace and intelligence that was sought after in Wingseconds.

[Nicole]

Elora didn't notice the mysterious woman in the Sands, or D'ziel working his way through the crowd. She was too busy watching the Candidates stream onto the field - Shazza, whose attention was half on the eggs and half on the crowds; Richet, with her chin held up too high; Kyton, with a worried frown; Saphierah, standing almost too close to the eggs.

Who would bring home one of the dragonets?

Saphireth's jaw dropped into a small draconian grin as the other two eggs began to rock, Ayleneth's words floating through her mind at the same time. Thank you. She would take every good wish she could, on this day. Her children deserved that.

And then the biggest egg exploded - and out from the wreckage stumbled a small Brown, eyes whirling fervently, wet wings flapping behind him.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

There was a rumor going around that T’kar was trying to kill himself. Fortunately, it was never mentioned in his hearing, but that didn’t make it any less virulent. Nor did it make the concerns associated with it any less valid. Like all the fighting wings, T’kar had divided his into three sections (alpha, beta, and gamma). However, while he remained adamant about sending any of his wingmen back if their breathing got too bad, he was spending only the minimum amount of time at the Aerie himself. He insisted that other riders needed more of the LifeWings’ attention than he did, especially considering the fact that the LifeWings and their riders were so overburdened that they had long since stopped providing any but the most basic relief of symptoms, symptoms that in the riders frequently returned the very next day, leading to an even greater strain on both groups.

T’kar knew he was being foolish. He knew that he had no greater immunity to symptoms worsening than did anyone else, knew that he was no more invincible than any other rider. There were just two problems with the knowledge: 1. the job of scouting the fire and fighting it as best as possible had to be done or even more people would suffer or die, 2. he had enough problems going on that he had to stay away from the Weyr for as long as possible.

T’kar came around a corner to find himself right near three of the younger riders: Blue Korith’s H’rarn — Holt, D’ziel of Moonlight Hocteth, the clutchfather, and Mau, Green Quimyenth’s rider. On his beta section, due to go out the next morning, and coughing badly.

Should do it yourself first.

I’m leading beta tomorrow, G’vor can’t.

Because you…

Enough!

“Pass on my congratulations as well,” T’kar said, forcing himself to speak in a slightly higher pitch to reduce the heavy rasp in his voice. Turning to Mau, he continued: “…and Mau, you should report to the Aerie after the Hatching. That cough has no business in the air tomorrow.” Fortunately for his hypocritical words, he didn’t have a cough attack.