[E] Light (Archith's Flight)

[Kaya]

| 76.13.15 | The Heights, the Fields, the Skies | As sunset approaches, late in the day |

That morning it had rained softly, a fair day for the first few sevendays of the southern summer. The Gold had slept through the warm droplets, and the lambent sunbeams that peaked through the clouds in the late morning had made her into quite the spectacle. Several of those up and about the Weyr that morning remarked on her brilliant hide. The Weyr had been expecting her to take Flight for some time now. An excited strain of gossip worked its way through the kitchens, speculating about the impressive feast and dragonets to come.

Rilora had made it through the day by leaving sleeping Golds lie. She drank her klah, arranged her office to be secure, tidied her living space, ate a small lunch and gave a few opinions on foods she'd like to see the kitchen staff secure if possible. She had a template letter that she had copied several times and sent out to the Lords and Ladies about the upcoming Hatching and thus the increased frequency of Searches in their territories. All in all it was a very business day.

But sunset was almost upon them, and it would be the Gold dragon on the Heights that herded the sun to rest.

A Weyr settling down at the end of a long, bright summer day was roused by a snap of unfurling wings and a bone shaking roar, melodious as it was dissonant. Heads turned to watch the Gold pick herself up from the warm rocks and shake the late afternoon raindrops to the sky. They caught the light as one, golden shimmer. Archith looked out at her valley, her lands, and saw the patches made hazy with light rain, and those clear and filled only with the day's ending light. With a great and slow effort, she rose into the sky and made her way to the fields.

She floated to the ground, in a delicate sort of trance, eerily calm around frightened beasts. Rilora's mind hovered behind hers, but she defied its concern by doing nothing. She stood there in the field and watched the herdbeasts scatter. She would be the victorious greater half, more than half!, by giving the Rider mind attached to her nothing to fret over. No will to exert. She picked up a bovine that passed too close and bit into its neck. She waited there for suitors to arrive, blood dripping down the sides of her face. But she did not eat. She willed it so, and not the mind that waited quietly behind hers. She would consume all thoughts, all existence, and chase the sun out of the sky. And the ones trailing behind her would call their lesser lights and fill the darkness with stars.

[Shoki]

The entire Weyr knew that Archith was about to fly. Some folks prepared, others not so much. Of course some riders didn’t prepare so much as waited. There were always riders hoping to be Weyrleader, of course. Still, many more didn’t concern themselves so much. After all, not every dragon chased such a glorious Queen. A few Grays lamented their lot while watching. Of course, one never could tell.

This was especially true for those who thought they knew it all.

So, in a quiet corner of the weyr, a rider pair lurked, content to enjoy the dwindling day in peace. They had no more than passing interest in the Queen flying. It wasn’t something they had to worry about, right? Surely not. Technically speaking his dragon was old enough, but that didn’t mean he had to fly. Logically the younger age should deter him in the face of larger, older kings that were bound to chase. After all, in more than a few cases even non Tigers found themselves in a position that deterred them. A combination of outside circumstances and rider’s feelings could do that. Of course Hailreth would remain on the ground with him, studying. B’ow was convinced of this.

What he neglected was to take into account the fact that, though he behaved studious, Hailreth was a dragon that did not entirely believe certain limits applied to him. So when he heard the call of challenge the Purple looked up and found his eyes whirling into bright colors almost immediately. He stepped back and stretched his wings out, ignoring the words from B’ow. The fact that he was ‘being completely illogical’ bounced off him, as did the idea to ‘be reasonable’. As he started to take off one single piece of the conversation got in.

“Just think about this!”

Think? The neon Purple tilted his head. He was smaller than a King, as well as extraordinarily young. Having a plan of attack was an excellent idea. He should ration his energy. When was the last time he slept again? Hmm. Perhaps for the next flight he should rely on conserving energy beforehand to increase chances.

What a great idea! You always have the best ideas. Hailreth took off, heading toward the fields of herdbeasts. B’ow watched him go, mouth open, and staring at where his dragon had been.

“Could you have missed the point any harder?” He pushed off the closeness of Hailreth’s feelings by, for the moment, enjoying the thought of Hailreth being so very smart and so spectacularly dumb at the same time. At least in his eyes.

Hailreth arrived to watch the shining Queen feast. He landed briefly and let himself be dazzled by her. Archith was of course lovely. The great Gold Queen was graceful in her meal, the image of dignity. A croon started low in his throat, remaining mostly heard only by himself. He would have to be most clever for her. Optimism flooded him. He could do it. He would show her how clever he could be.

[Moo]

Few things could rouse him once he drifted off, but the strange roar startled him awake in an instant.

Tail swishing behind him, Mosiliath cracked one eye open and snorted loudly through his nose. He had thought to get mad at whoever had woken him up -- probably some weyrlings playing rough, he grumbled -- but something, some thought in the back of his mind, made him hesitate. The roar echoed from the Heights, after all.

Curious, he pulled himself up from the entrance to his weyr and looked up in time to see Archith shake off beads of sunlight from her hide. It was an entrancing display to wake up to, golden light scattering in different directions. From her place on the Heights, he could think of her as no less than Rukbat itself, come down from the skies to rest atop the Heights.

In the silence that followed Archith's display, his eyes spun a dark blue as he watched her float down towards the herdbeasts. The air was strangely empty of noise from anyone, which only lended more attention to the Queen's path to the pens.

Rukbat, it seemed, was hungry.

Mosiliath rumbled a note of amusement at the comparison, though it was hardly fair to the real Rukbat. It was an unlit candle compared to the flesh and blood that flew down from the Heights. Daylight was fading, but that only seemed to enhance the shimmering, molten color of her hide. He was enthralled, and quite content to sit back and watch what unfolded below.

It was only when Archith began to blood the creature, and not eat it, did his confusion break the spell. Chase? Was this...no. Was this a Flight? Had it really been so long since the last one? He stared objectively at Archith now. She was always a sight to behold, but today...yes, he had to admit, she was particularly radiant, even with her face covered in blood. Especially because her face was covered in blood.

A hunger of a different sort began to race though him. Rising at last to his feet, his mind made up, Mosiliath fled the confines of his weyr and flew down to the edge of the Bowl. He called softly to her as he backwinged and landed a respectful distance away, minding the small Purple dragon near his feet. He had rested well from his travels, and his wing was not bothering him yet. It was the perfect time.

He would Chase, as he always had, and always would.

D'gan, busy in the lower caverns, picked up on the change in his dragon. What's this, now?

Mosiliath snorted inwardly. [smear:ff7f24]You...you [/smear:ff7f24][smear:ff6600]should get to [/smear:292421]the Weyrwoman's quarters.

In a moment, I'm reading this --
[smear:ff7f24]No, you[/smear:ff7f24][smear:ff6600] don't [/smear:292421]quite understand.
Hmm?
[smear:ff7f24]You have [/smear:ff7f24][smear:ff6600]to [/smear:292421]get there NOW.

The older Rider hesitated, standing as still as a statue. Is what I think is happening...happening?

[smear:ff6600]Like [/smear:ff6600][smear:292421]I said,[/smear:000000] he replied, a trickle of amusement in his voice. [smear:ff7f24]I don't want [/smear:ff7f24][smear:ff6600]you embarrassing me[/smear:292421] on the ground!
As if I would ever!

Setting the papers he had been leafing through on the desk, D'gan shook his head and began to walk double-time toward Rilora's quarters. He was going willingly because he knew he could not hesitate - it was a Flight, after all. The Rider always complies. But that old adage didn't stop him from feeling any less nervous about his lack of choice. Rilora was a dear friend, but if Mosiliath Chased and won...what would become of their friendship then?

[Kaya]

Archith watched as the suitors arrived. A Purple, in his lesser radiance, the Tiger, his ready and admiring expression, and a grey muzzled Brown and his respectful interest. She was pleased to see them gathering. It should be a small group, only the elite and utterly foolish would try for her, and she believed her Weyr contained mostly the former. She set the still and stiffening herdbeast daintily on the ground below her and spent a moment licking her muzzle and claws. One would suit her, she was strong and would not be unnecessarily weighed down. This short wait was to be polite, to give the suitors the faintest of a fighting chance, given her great speed and endurance, not to mention her numerous other skills. But the wait was now over and latecomers wouldn't be among the elite. It was time to go, to take the sky from the sun.

With a throaty and powerful roar she announced her exit. Muscles bunched, readying. The tension released with a shiver as the golden Archith took to the sky. Her wings unfurled and swept down, lifting her into the air with style. Takeoff successful, she increased her speed, both away and up. Let them chase her. It was the way of things, as Rukbat raced across the sky and dragons chased after it. She felt a drop of still remaining blood bead up and slide off her face. She hummed to herself, tingly sensation and anticipatory both. She could only see the pleasures of the future; her mating Flight, her children, her reign supreme. The world's cares were left in the dust of the ground further and further below. Queen Archith Flew.

Rilora felt so small in her Gold's grand ego. A little voice in a cavernous chamber, the faintest echo. She could hardly see the room around her for the brilliant beginnings of a sunset beaming into Archith's vision. But she saw the room, saw the Riders' arrivals. She felt Archith's boldness, her own timidness, saw their faces reflect their dragons. Things got so personal the last two times. She grabbed onto Archith's confidence and felt secure there. It would be different this time. Her Gold was so sparsely attached to things, (besides her title and power; Rilora felt an indignant snort at that thought, the air rushed through her own nose in unison), she could find that way too. This would be an exhibition of themselves (Archith mostly), and that was that. Simple and neat. Rilora let herself fall back and enfolded by the rushing winds gusting past their wings. They would fly far.

[Shoki]

Hailreth watched as others arrived, and he considered them. Tiger and Brown were both different from him and each other. Well, he didn’t know who to consider the most trouble. He was likely the smallest. However, he also guessed that he would have the most raw energy. Hard to say though. He hadn’t slept in a while. Still, he didn’t feel tired. He was itching to fly, to chase. The indication was clear, in his little motor-like croon that he was trying to keep to himself for the time being. Still, he watched.

Soon enough Archith announced to the world her intentions and took off. Hailreth zipped into the sky after her, remember a bit too late he was supposed to be rationing his energy. Kay, okay, he cooled it a little. How could he deny his enthusiasm though? A lovely Queen she was, and she demanded a little spring in his step. Still, he would remember to keep himself at a respectful distance. True, he could use the space to fully enjoy her glorious visage. He paid little attention to the bit of him that was sneaking about.

B’ow willed his short little legs to keep a good pace, but kept silent and out of the way. True, there were not many a Neon Purple at the Weyr, but he could at least not be so conspicuous on his way there. As much as he wished it was otherwise, Hailreth was flying. So, he went to where he was supposed to be. He had lived in a Weyr long enough, he knew the score. He would find himself a neat little corner, and when Hailreth failed, he could sneak out and hide in his room. Easily done. At least easily said. He found himself more and more overwhelmed by Hailreth’s shining optimism. Forget the Neon’s color, it was his outlook that was hard to look at. B’ow found his spot and remained a little bit of pessimism, but was never the less folded up into the Purple’s bright outlook.

[Moo]

Mosiliath's eyes spun bright as Archith, at last, roared and ascended into the sky. He had not minded waiting on her, and would have waited an eternity at her command, but the thrill of the chase was beyond compare. Excitement ran hot in his veins. It was time at last. With his own roar of delight, he crouched and leapt into the air after his Queen.

The air was warm and supportive beneath his wings, though he found himself purposefully avoiding the thermals. It would have been an easier means to rise in altitude, but Mosiliath considered such things cheating. He would give his all, as Archith deserved and demanded. And so he followed her, further up and further in, great wings shaping the air to his desire.

Briefly, he wondered what sort of test she would ask of her suitors this time. Cleverness seemed to be what she had favored in previous Flights. He could sustain himself well on long flights, and his will was just as great as hers. But he could think of nothing more than following her great, golden form to the ends of the skies. He hoped for a long Flight. No matter what she chose, or what tests she decided to throw at them, he would not give her a reason for disappointment.

#

As per usual during a Flight, D'gan had selected a spot off to the side, reasoning that it was far better than standing before Rilora and making them both feel awkward. Not that he ever considered his relationship with her awkward, but mating flights sometimes brought out the best (and worst) in people. He did not want to make any sort of blunder this early because of flightlust.

But things would sort themselves out, as they always had. He already knew once thing for certain: that he and Mosiliath would always be there as support, no matter what. So why worry about what might happen? With that thought, D'gan gave himself over to the visions in his head. Amidst the surging feelings of love and adoration from his dragon, he could hear the wind whistling in his ears, the sounds of thundering wings, the soft hum emanating from Archith. Through Mosiliath's eyes, the brilliant colors from the skies and the dragons were beyond compare. He would have even wished himself up in the air, flying with Mosiliath, but the thoughts of being squished by large, jostling dragons was not appealing in the slightest.

He afforded himself a small smile at the absurd idea, and surprised himself with the realization that he was eagerly awaiting what might happen next. He could not say exactly why, but this Flight felt good. It was nice to be home among friends and, for the briefest moment, be able to forget about fires and fighting and Weyr-wide conflicts. Nothing messy to deal with, just something simple and pure and enjoyable. He wished Mosiliath all the stamina in the world.

[Kaya]

The suitors would have until the sun set and the first star of the night shone to prove themselves, and then she would choose. She held her wings out in a speedy glide, holding her altitude even. Three fine dragons behind her, and she had yet to decide upon one as her mate. They all seemed to keep a respectable distance, which was fine for this moment. Nearer the end they would all come closer, until at last one was declared the victor. The familiarity of a Flight. Archith snorted. She had had enough with ordinary familiar. She began to beat her wings, searching her mind for the fantastic and unusual. She picked up speed and then angled herself straight up, wings tucked in. She let her speed alone carry her upward and expected the suitors to do likewise, broadcasting her intent as an impression and a feeling rather than words. There were many days for words, but she did not wish to permit them a voice. She reached the end of where her speed would take her and began to slow and fall back towards the ground now quite far below.

Glancing just slightly over her shoulder to look at the tiny features of the landscape Archith felt the regular urge to open up her wings. But she denied it. She kept her wings held tight against her body. She felt herself being pulled into a fall. And she let it happen. With her nose pointed skyward she dropped through the sky, past the dragons that were chasing her. She looked intently to try and see their reactions, though they passed by so fast it was difficult to tell. She shifted her wings to spin her nose groundward and then in a wide arc pulled out of her dive, keeping her speed and shooting away from the suitors.

Refocusing her gaze on the horizon as she once again rose far above it, she scanned the skies and saw a faint flicker that might belong to a star. The sunlight was not yet gone, but her dive had lowered her along with the sun. Once, the top of the yellow globe reappeared between the distant hills, but then it was gone. The sky changed colors more rapidly, switching between brilliant hues that reminded Archith of her Weyr and its dragons, those she presided over and protected.

Knowing the light was fading and would be gone soon enough, Archith selected a few choice words as she and the others sped swiftly over the lands below. Show me why you are worth being chosen. She issued the order to the dragons behind her.

---

The Brown dragon exhaled deeply and then moved into Archith's field of view. He moved to let her see the strength still in his wings, the energy he could afford to spend making it more difficult to fly and yet still keeping up. He was a sturdy choice and a follower, only a show off at request, and even then he was reluctant to steal attention from the golden Queen. She would choose as she would, it was the way of Queens.

---

Rilora felt Archith slowing down. She felt the energy left in the Gold and knew she could go on further still, but had waited to see what the following dragons would do. She felt the familiar Flight sensation to go further away, farther up, but conflicted with it she felt Archith's impatience, restrained with a ladylike mask. She didn't want to wait any longer, but she had set the last of the light and the stars as her deciding time. It frustrated them both so, but in Archith's fickleness and uncertain choice, Rilora was relieved the Gold had allowed the dragons one last show of their prowess.

[Shoki]

The Gold rose, then let her speed to the work. Hailreth thought that was a lovely idea. He let himself go forward with just airspeed, but the Queen was already moving on to part to. Falling straight through the suitors towards the ground. The confidence in what she was doing was stunning. It distracted him for a moment. He started to fall. Hailreth looked down, considering the ground. He was speeding up as he fell, of course. Stalling had that effect. So he thought it best if he took advantage of the speed.

As he fell he observed his speed, trying to time the correct moment. Soon. He started to open his wings, but not so that he was slowed overmuch. Keep going. He tilted them slightly, to change his direction. He was still speeding for the earth, only slightly to the side. He had to tilt more. Soon enough he found himself swooping toward the rest of them, though it took some time. He considered his performance. Too much time thinking, and he hadn’t really considered the tradeoff between time to do it perfectly and time that he could be spending chasing the Queen. He would note the information for later. So as to do better next time.

But she called to them all, to do show their best. Hailreth didn’t know about that, but knew he had to get back in pace. Go, go, go! He bolted after them all, perhaps a little too energetically. He couldn’t see himself, but he was like a little puppy. Soon he caught up with the rest, but he had less time to do something. So he had to ‘show he was worthy’. So he thought. He should have thought before. It would have been more efficient. He thought about that and considered the wind before him, the dragons around him and adjusted his path. Behind the Queen, and to the side. He could probably fly forever like this. The wind was easy, he had lots of energy, yes, he could fly for a long time like this. Wasn’t that interesting? The properties of such things could be easily seen in others, in fact there was a really interesting case where-

B’ow leaned on the little corner he had found, listening to Hailreth’s thought process on optimal flight patterns. Talking about Avians, about Lifewings, about the history of dragon fighting wings. All of it. It didn’t bother him any. He lived with it. The Neon Purple didn’t say any of it. Just preformed the theory. B’ow was somewhat soothed by the excited, but orderly thoughts. Hailreth was still Hailreth, no matter what happened.

[Moo]

Mosiliath followed the radiant, southern Sun as she banked and dove and soared across the evening sky. His own flightpath was not as grandiose or quick, and he made certain to check himself often. The skies beckoned him to climb higher, fly faster, but he longed for something much greater than that. His eyes whirled various hues of purple and blue as he watched Archith from below. How her wings delicately carved the air around them, how her golden hide shimmered like water, how her expression lightened as she left her troubles on the ground.

There was no other word for her but beautiful, and he felt nothing else towards her save humility, and a fierce sort of protectiveness, at being allowed in the same skies as she.

Mosiliath knew would not do to appeal to his own vanity and race around the skies, nor would it be appropriate to embarrass his fellows flying beside him. He might have had different standards as a King color, but rudeness was not a kingly quality. As such, he thought it best to follow her course and not outrun her. His large wings offered everything but agility, and one wrong move could cost him everything.

But it was now or never, and a choice had to be made.

So he made it a big one.

With a great downstroke of his wings, Mosiliath left his position behind Archith and boldly flew beside her. He felt his wingtips brush against her own as he flew in tandem on her left. He rumbled a soft, low note in greeting, and then, mind-to-mind, he began to speak.

Archith, my dear friend, I do not know how to prove to you what you already know. You have always had my loyalty and admiration, as well as that of my Rider's, from the very beginning. I would like nothing more than to stand at your side and see you through these dark times. To see peace return to you once more.

I have nothing else to offer you but the strength of my wings, as my heart has always been yours. You have been carrying the weight of the Weyr on your own for far too long, dear one.

Allow me to help you with it.

[Kaya]

Brown and purple and orange. A fading sky, nearing darkness. It was time to chose. Archith regarded the Brown's strength in adversity, but it was his own obstacles that held him back. He had only that to work with, yes, and she acknowledged his efforts but found them unsuited for her. She flew on, waiting to see what the others would do.

She admired the Purple's energy. It came forth with a burst and shot the suitor into her point of view. She admired his wings and how with his enormous energy it seemed so effortless. She believed he could spend it recklessly and still have more than enough. An intriguing and worthy quality in a mate. She leaned her head to show interest and tilted back to see him take up a space behind her, drafting off the wind from her winds. Smart too. She felt a satisfied sensation from observing him, Hailreth yes?

Then the Tiger next to her spoke and took her attention, the glimmer of Rilora's consciousness dragging her to look at the dragon. That human spark held her gaze there. His promises of support made her heart swell, the offer of a future on the other side of trouble. He promised to carry them there, no, no better. He promised to travel there with them. Archith grunted at the subtly. She threw back her head, as if to buck off an unwelcome someone that had settled there. Rilora felt her head spin. Archith grumbled, she had asked to be shown, not told. Shown. Shown. Rilora! the Gold protested. The human lips smiled. Archith had won the beginning, but she had control here. Two minds in as much competition as the suitors, but Rilora wouldn't have her other half, her Archith, be any other way. It was fitting for them.

Archith saw the weyr bleed into her vision. Saw the perspective looking out at the room change as the eyes arose from the protective nest of sheets. Rilora walked across the room and leaned into D'gan. She flooded the Gold's mind, washing out her typical quips at Tigers. She ran her lips down his check. She respun the memories to be endearing. She kissed the side of his lips. She pushed her will up against the terrifying presence that was Archith. She put a hand on his chest.

The Gold glided on, watching. She felt her raw Flight feelings pushing up against her Rider, and washing back. Until the two mixed and settled on an answer. She had asked to be shown with actions, but these words spoke loudest to Rilora-Archith, and so Archith-Rilora accepted that. Mosiliath would be a good mate for her children. She knew that, but had chose to ignore it. Rilora knew it, but chose to remember it. So they both remembered. The others had flown well. There was no disgrace in sending the sun to rest with the great, Gold Queen.

Mosiliath, make good your promises. Take the weight from my wings. Carry the Weyr. Be with me as the darkness of night settles. She floated there, frozen in space. Without the detail of the ground, lost in the settling darkness, she could have been said to hang there without moving. She leaned and brushed her wing against his. Tomorrow we will carry it together.

[Shoki]

The little midnight haired rider saw before his bright counterpart. Just in a corner, unnoticed. His gaze flickered, blended between sky and room, but he saw. Together they were a creature of observation, so it was easily done. The Weyrwoman walked up to another rider, one that automatically corresponded to orange and black in their mind, and the implications were impressively clear. However, Hailreth did not slow, it was not set. But when the words came, it was no surprise.

B’ow breathed in, somehow getting more in sync with Hailreth for a moment. The Neon Purple floated in the air for a moment, appearing still in his flight. There was disappointment, a sense of loss. However, rapidly overtaking it was a feeling that it was time to be scarce. B’ow snuck away, into the night, his element to be sure. Hailreth might have been more conspicuous, but silently speedy was almost as good. Into the night they went, to other things, plans and books.

A failure for them, perhaps. However, they learned quickly, and rarely made the same mistake twice. Next time? Things could be very different. For now, Hailreth had to suffer through the ‘I told you so’s and the disappointment. Hardly something that would keep him down for long.

[Moo]

Mosiliath, make good your promises. Take the weight from my wings. Carry the Weyr. Be with me as the darkness of night settles. Tomorrow we will carry it together.

Admiration, and something shy of love, colored the Tiger's eyes and manifested in his chest as a loud, appreciative purr. Yes. Yes. He had been chosen. Archith and Rilora had measured him and his Rider and had not found them wanting. It felt...it felt good. Felt right, even. It was as it should be.

D'gan had been so lost in Mosiliath's vision, he hadn't even noticed Rilora approaching until she touched him. The unexpected warmth of her against him was surprising, but it made him smile. His own vision returned to him, and he left the skies to the dragons. His pulse rising, he coaxed her closer with gentle hands. Was this truly a yes, then? He pressed inquisitive lips to her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, and felt a shiver snake through him as her hands wandered across his chest.

"This night is yours, Rilora," whispered D'gan, pulling back from a kiss to press his forehead to hers. "I will not do anything you do not want to do...just...just let me know, okay?"

When Archith's message flooded through Mosiliath to him, D'gan smiled to himself and resumed giving Rilora the attention she deserved. Heat pooled low in his stomach and settled near the base of his spine as he held her against him, flightlust and passion and something shy of love all mixing together into one. So this was what it was to be. Rilora had made her choice...and she had chosen him. He would not worry tonight about what was to become of their friendship.

Morning was a long way off, and they had all night to express their feelings to each other.

Mosiliath, held aloft in the same warm current of air as his dear Queen, stretched his wings and turned his head to look fully at Archith. [smear:ff7f24]My dear friend, I would like nothing better[/smear:ff7f24][smear:ff6600] than to be at your side. We shall carry the Weyr tomorrow, this I promise you. [/smear:292421]But first, let me carry you down. Fall, Archith...all you have to do is fall. I will catch you, always.