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

[Breeze]

The corner of Kyton's mouth tilted up in a slight smile as the purple emerged in a seemingly cleaner fashion than the other two dragonets and didn't waste any time with looking around. This one seems to know exactly who she wants. The thought amused him, his focus completely shifting away from the red on the sands and the copper tang in the air. His attention was briefly drawn away from the dragonets as he noted a late arrival. He's wearing all of the traditional garb, and you couldn't give up on wearing your boots, you are in no position to make any judgements of any kind. Kyton reminded himself, eyes training back on the dragonets, mainly the purple. He was eager to see who the direct little dragonet would choose.

[falcon]

Good. Good. Stay over there.

Richet shivered behind the others, ready to send a thousand letters to the syndicate demanding a reassignment. This was insane. Baby dragons could kill someone-- they could kill her.

Dragon riding was not for everyone, and Richet was definitely one of those better suited for the holds. There wasn't even a moment of curiosity in how the dragons would sound or their names or what Impression was like-- she just wanted them to Impress so she could leave, now.

[Nicole]

Just as the Purple made its way determinedly across the Sands, the eyes of the Brown lit up. Tail flailing, he ricocheted past his sister - knocking her over into the sand, where she was quickly covered in the tiny grains. Suddenly she looked more like a strangely tinted Wood than a Purple.

She was not happy.

But still, the Brown could not be stopped; his tail flicked Richet's legs as he ran past her, past Kyton, to where the newcomer had just arrived.

Mine! I have been looking for you. No wonder I could not find you. You are late! His bloody claws dug into the Sand as he looked up at Kheveptsol, eyes swirling in beautiful rainbow colors. I am hungry!

And Ornoth beamed up at his rider.

Behind him, his sister determinedly shook off the Sand and turned back to her previous path.


Name: Ornoth
Pronunciation: ourn-outh
Color: Brown (m) (AF7817)
Size: 32 feet
Personality: Ornoth knows exactly who he is: a Brown dragon, who belongs to His, a dragon of Rainbow Mists Weyr, who will do his best for his Weyr and for his Rider. After all, what greater joy is there than taking care of those who care for him? The little things he enjoys – and he does enjoy the little things – don’t compare to waking up and stretching your wings and rubbing your head against your Rider’s palm and moving forward. Ornoth could easily become a Wingleader one day, given his relaxed and confident attitude.

[falcon]

((falk confirmed for a character))

The brown's tail actually touched her.

Richet jumped a mile and a half and let out an indignant squeak, jumping to the side and shaking hard. With her eyes wide and nostrils flared, she definitely didn't look dignified at all. Terrified, she glanced back at the purple and the jungle. "Find your shaffing riders," she hissed under her breath. "I want out."

There was a bit of egg slime on her leg, and that might remain as the worst that she'll get, but it would not stop Richet from getting more and more hysterical as the hatching wore on.

[shapeshifter]

Saphierah felt happy for the newly impressed Brown and his rather late Mine. She noticed the Purple get knocked to the ground, yet she kept her eyes and intent on the Jungle. Such a beautiful color, well she always thought so at least. So many swirls and whirls of Green in their hide, it matched her eyes! She grinned, looking at the remaining two with hope in her heart, but the slightly pain of disappointment burning in the back of her mind.

[Breeze]

Kyton jolted as the brown suddenly knocked the purple down in his race across the sands, Are they usually that careless? He frowned, although it cleared as he noticed that the brown had indeed impressed. On the late-comer. He bit the inside of his cheek, No judgement, no judgement, He chanted in his mind, You simply weren't fit. Maybe I should've worn the sandals.

He glance back towards the purple, spotting what looked like a wood instead and raising an eyebrow, if he was that little dragon he certainly wouldn't be happy with that new color of hide. Kyton turned his eyes away again, trailing to the new pair but stopping on the girl that the brown's tail had flicked. She was losing it. Irritation flared, she hadn't even been injured-the worst she had was a bit of slime on her leg. There were many things worse than slime on your leg.

You don't know her or what she's thinking. Kyton chided himself,
focusing on the newly impressed pair once more, irritation disappearing. It was a curious thing to see, and was one thing that he hadn't seen before, but hoped to see again. I wonder what it feels like...

[Shoki]

Kashpa knew that kids were very open with what they thought, so she wasn’t surprised to see a rainbow of reactions to the events that just occurred. The boys laughed as the Brown sped past his sister, while some of the girls looked sympathetic and a few looked the same as Richet when they saw what happened to her. A few of them looked almost disappointed to see the Brown impress, but Kashpa encouraged them to clap for the new rider which of course got a little out of hand when a few started to cheer. Controlled noise form them was kinda hard.

Eventually they were settled down again and Kashpa smiled. At least they were having fun. And it didn’t look like too much of a problem had occurred. So she took a look to see how the Purple and Jungle were doing. Hopefully they would impress soon, possibly not running over anyone in the process. No promises of that though. She was taking great care to not get entirely absorbed in the hatching, but she couldn’t help it at some times. It was an exciting event, for sure.

[Moo]

Cold.

Everything was cold, especially her legs. Strange, for how hot the Sands normally were.

And slow -- why did everything feel so slow?

Tired, that's all, she reasoned, stifling back a yawn. It was hard to sleep last night.

Shazza blinked and looked around, but her world was blurring and growing dim. Was this what Impression felt like? It had to be. It couldn't be anything else! Laughter bubbled up inside of her. She had Impressed at last! Her only regret was that it happened so fast…she would have liked to savor the moment. She glanced to the other Candidates on the Sands with her, to her parents, ready to see their smiling faces and nods of approval…except, they weren't smiling.

Instead they stared back, wide-eyed and silent and afraid.

She felt less assured now. Why weren't they smiling? And where was that Brown she had Impressed to? Sure, she had heard they only Impressed to males, but that was nothing to be afraid of! She would be one of few! Her parents would be proud, making history like that. She looked around for the squeaking hatchling, but saw none nearby.

Where had he gone? And why was she on the ground? When did that happen?

Shazza couldn't hold back a yawn this time and she raised a hand to her mouth. But just as she was about to yawn, she noticed something strange.

Her skin was pale, unusually pale, and covered in sticky, bright red fluid. Blood, she reasoned. Blood? She frowned hard and stared at her hand. Well that was odd, wasn't it? How did she manage to get blood on her? She had seen enough blood from herdbeasts to not be frightened by the sight of it, though here at a Hatching…that wasn't normal, was it?

As quick as she could think it all, a large shadow swooped over her and blocked out the sun. Who…? Shazza looked up and met the familiar face of the WeyrlingMaster. He had a Brown, too -- Teth, his dragon was called. He was a nice dragon. But what was the WeyrlingMaster doing? Was he going to help her and her dragon? Where was her Brown?

"Shazza, I'm going to apply tourniquets to your legs. Keep still."

It was as if he pulled strips of cloth from nowhere, he moved so fast. Strong, dark hands maneuvered the cloth under her legs, and she followed his movements with her eyes. But the sight she met was almost too much for her to comprehend. From her thighs to her calves were deep, flayed gashes.

Still, she didn't understand. Blood, the same bright color on her hand, gushed from the wounds, only to be absorbed into the ground below. It couldn't be her blood, though. Just a moment ago she was watching the eggs hatch. And now?

She tried to reach out, to touch her legs (raw and trembling and covered in sand), to understand, but the WeyrlingMaster pushed her hand aside and continued to work. The feeling was beginning to come back to her legs, hot and angry and piercing, and the pain of it all twisted her stomach.

"Keep still," he insisted.

"Wait…I d-don't…understand? Wh-who's blood is this?" Her voice came out as a stammer, not like the calm of her mind, and her heart was beating fast, as fast as if she had just run ten dragonlengths. Why?

He did not look up at her as he tightened the second strip of cloth, and the sudden, sharp bite of fabric against open wound made her gasp.

"I'm taking you to a healer," he said. "When you're strong enough again, we can consider more options for you. Until then, you've got to do as I say. Now, hold on!" Satisfied with his work, he scooped her up in his arms and held her close as he walked quickly out of the Sands.

But this was wrong! He was wrong! Shazza struggled in his grasp, and her tears ran hot down her face.

"No! Please, wait! Wait! The Brown…my hatchling…where is he? I have to take care of him! He needs me…he needs me."

The WeyrlingMaster wasn't responding, and as he hurried past the crowd and toward the exit, there wasn't much she could do, not how he was holding her and her legs. But she could look over his shoulder and see what remained of the Hatching. That's when she saw him, the boy who wasn't there from before, the one who arrived late. And there was her Brown hatchling right next to him, rainbow-eyed, as if they were the only two on the Sands.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair! He ruined everything!

And then the WeyrlingMaster rounded a corner, toward the healers, and her world went dark.

[Nicole]

They had lost one girl to dragon's claws, but they had one Impression now; that had to be good, right? Even ratio. Or something.

The things Elora told herself to keep herself calm these days didn't make sense, even to her; but that was the way of it.

And so the Purple moved back towards where it had always meant to go, and the Jungle went towards the same spot, and by the time they had both reached their chosen Candidates feet, they had realized the other person wanted the same.

The Jungle, being bigger and slightly older, should have all accounts already figured out that he had wanted Kyton; but it had taken him a while to sort through all the ruckus. The Purple had known straight away, and would have had him with her already had their oldest brother not gotten in her way.

So they stared at each other, tiny dragonet against tiny dragonet.

And then the Jungle bared its teeth, and the sand-covered Purple didn't hesitate to try to knock him out of her way.

Neither meant to really hurt the other. It was half-play, half-fight; both creatures were too kind to really want to harm something, despite wanting the same Candidate.

But then the Purple's claws caught the wrong way on the Jungle's throat, and he squeaked, and choked, and vanished between before anything could be done.

The Purple stared at where he had gone before looking up at Kyton, settling her blood-covered claws on his feet.

Do you think he will come back? It does not matter. We are together! He should not have parted us, don't you agree, Mine!? Mine, I am hungry!



Having lingering on the edges long enough, Elora turned away from the Sands and disappeared into the halls, leaving the bloody sand behind. Saphireth let out a soft keen for her lost newborn.

It seemed awfully familiar. Two dragons unharmed and one dead, over something that didn't need to happen.

Perhaps it wasn't the Azure that was cursed. Perhaps it was her.



Name: Bryath
Pronunciation: br-i-ah-th
Color: Purple (f) (800080)
Size: 29 feet
Personality: Bryath is a Purple: a true royal purple, to suit her almost queenly personality. After all, she may not be a Queen - and oh, how she knows her place among the ranks! - but she is self-assured and confident, if a little too bouncy for royalty. (Perhaps princess is a better descriptor.) With a personality full of mirth and teasing, and nearly boundless energy, Bryath could make a friend of nearly anyone - no matter how shy her Mine is.

[falcon]

Okay. Stop the presses, back this shaff up, and let Richet watch that scene again. Dragons. Can. Kill. Dragons. And these insane Weyr people not only let their children watch this massacre, but they threw up their twelve-year-olds to this lunacy? And Holders eagerly agreed to go along with this?!

Richet's starting to lose faith in every single Harper tale ever told.

Her mouth is dry when she leaves the Sands, shaking all the while. Oh. No way is she going through this again. She's not sure if she's going to survive another hatching, and the smell of blood is still strong in her nostrils.

If she doesn't lie down soon, she's going to vomit and pass out.

[Kaya]

It wasn't until a man came onto the Sands that he realized something was wrong. He clearly not a Candidate, in fact probably someone important the facial recognition niggled at the edge of Kheveptsol's brain without resolve. He had saw the red blood, but he had dismissed it as a minor injury, worse than it looked. The paling of the girl's skin, the concerned, hard look in the man's eyes, the sinking feeling in his gut as they hauled her off still dripping... Mercy on her, the thought floated to the front. It made the jumps of the others more apparent when the Brown raced through their ranks. He had done that to her, the blood was still on his claws.

Mine! I have been looking for you. No wonder I could not find you. You are late! His bloody claws dug into the Sand as he looked up at Kheveptsol, eyes swirling in beautiful rainbow colors. I am hungry!

The persistent buzz of activity around him sharpened to a single note and then faded away as the rainbow eyes filled him. Like mountain rain, slowly, little drops of consciousness flashed as they knit together. It was a strange acceleration, as they saw each other, as their minds flowed together, explored the little corners, and filled up every crevice. They were inseparable now. And in an instant Kheveptsol became a Rider, became Kh'sol. Nothing to do now but forgive and move on.

"We..." he heard his own voice aloud and ringing in his ears, as if it were both inside and outside of him. "We need to get you cleaned up." His eyes drifted over the dragonet, his still swirling eyes, his young and soft brown hide, the still red and sandy claws. The signs of birth and death mixed, as they often were.

And food! I am hungry! the voice insisted again.

"Okay," Kh'sol agreed, the echos rolling through his head like distant thunder. He had trouble taking a step. He wobbled. The Brown butted his head up against his newly selected. That earned him a pat on the head.

Scratch! That is better. Ornoth corrected. The fingers returned to lazily massage the corner of the dragonet's head. As they caught the smell of the meat, to Ornoth's delight, the young Brown picked up the pace to eat. Kh'sol was left with a wrinkled nose. He was indicated to help move a bowl (or a bucket, it was huge) to his dragonet. It smelled disagreeable in the heat, but Ornoth's mouth was watering. He could feel it. He tried to help move the heavy thing, something about doing things for his dragon, his still tingling arms dropped the edge. Without delay Ornoth had his face into the meat on the ground and ate unabashedly. Then someone gasped. Things got quieter. It was that kind of expression that made Kh'sol know something was wrong. He turned to see where the man was staring.

"What?" he asked quietly. All he saw was a boy with a Purple and the faint rainbow in the dragon's eyes.

"...We lost one," was the reply.

Kh'sol frowned.

You are sad. Today is for happiness.

I wouldn't say that to her, he thought, realizing it worked as speech for the Brown. Their eyes traced Elora's exit.

You were late but I found you. And that is good. So...we are happy?

It's- Yes. Things are good now. Did lying to mind partners work?

You still feel funny.

Apparently not.

I'll get better. You're making me hungry too.

I could share... came the generous, but still hungry, reply.

That provoked a laugh from Kh'sol. Ornoth, appeased, resumed eating, growing drowsier. It made Kh'sol's fingers tingle.

"Excuse me, sir," Kh'sol caught the attention of one of the men passing by. "Oh, you again." It was the same man. "Do you know...if that girl-?"

"The LifeWings will do what they can. Healers too. I'm not either so I couldn't tell ya. Now see to that Brown there. That's your concern for the present. So get on it." And after a pause, a more affectionate, "You should be proud. Count yourself lucky."

"Oh, I do, sir. I do."

[Breeze]

To say Kyton was confused when both of the dragonets stopped at his feet would have been more than an understatement. When he saw the Jungle bare its teeth Kyton’s entire body had locked down and prevented him from moving. Then the purple had lunged and the fight—if it could even be called that—had broken out. He needed to step in, he wasn’t worth fighting over, and the dragonets didn't realize how sharp their claws could be, but he couldn’t.

Then the purple’s claw had caught on the Jungle’s throat, and the Jungle went between.

Kyton felt like he was going to be sick. Dragon’s didn't attack other dragons, that wasn’t something that happened in these times. But wasn’t that what had caused the recent death of the dragon and his rider? Kyton was broken from his thoughts as he felt a pressure on his boots, and a voice chiming—the sound filling his mind.

Do you think he will come back? It does not matter. We are together! He should not have parted us, don’t you agree, Mine!? Mine, I am hungry!

The voice was inexplicably loud, and Kyton—No, I suppose my name is K’ton now—look down at the purple in confusion, before the hunger pains hit him, and he jerked into motion, forgetting completely about what had happened with the jungle. It seemed as if no one else mattered anymore, at least not at the current moment. He was his, and she was hers, and they were both ravenous. He tore his gaze away, glancing back at the spot the jungle had disappeared, contemplating an answer to the first part of her question even if she might no longer care. “I do not think he will come back. I believe he went to a better place.” K’ton phrased carefully, speaking softly and attempting to project the meaning of the words onto the small dragonet as he headed towards where the pails of food were.

He does not matter anymore. Bryath responded promptly, keeping alongside K’ton briefly before scrambling to pick up the pace as she viewed the brown already consuming food. Move quicker! The command pierced his mind sharply, no room for teasing her mine was available right now. He might eat all the food before we get there!

K’ton laughed, reaching for a bucket—wrinkling his nose promptly at the smell—and carefully lowering it down to where Bryath could reach it. Bryath didn’t say another word, propping her front legs on the edge of the bucket and poking her head in. “If you don’t slow down, you’ll eat all the meat in the Weyr. And then what will the rest of us eat?” He teased briefly, kneeling to brush some of the sand from her hide.

The more I eat, the less chance they have of overindulgence, Bryath quipped, although she lifted her head to meet his gaze, pausing in her eating, before resuming as he motioned towards the bucket.

K’ton relaxed slightly as the hunger pains began to fade, standing once more as the heat from the sands grew to be too much for him to kneel. “Overindulgence indeed.” He looked fondly upon his partner, rolling his eyes.