Molten [Flight]

[Kaya]

| 78.10.22 | Rainbow Mists Weyr | Afternoon |

A roar shook her awake. Rilora’s chin jerked up and she startled, attracting pairs of eyes from some sitting around the meeting table. One stifled a chuckle at her dosing. The presenter drew his lips into a tight frown. The still dazed weyrwoman was trying to push some papers together, standing as she did so, only to send a pair fluttering to the ground. She reached after one, but its escape was successful.

“I- I have to go,” she excused herself. The stares were mixed – those whose dragons had alerted to what was happening, and those not affected. Rilora left, left side bumping into the doorway on her way out. The muddled vision of outside was bleeding through. Just like the hot blood she felt pouring down her throat, the dying herdbeast in her mouth. The need to steal its energy for herself.

On the grounds the great Golden dragon sat up on her legs, herdbeast clutched tight between foreclaws. Her hide was covered in little red dots, hardly visible at a distance, unnervingly obvious up close. She shook out her wings, stretching them to their full length, letting the light breeze hold her to her full height. She drew in a breath, steadied herself - Rilora’s doing – before crashing down to the ground, the bovine crashing into the nearest tree with a sharp crack. She pounced on a second, pinning it to the grass. Then frustrated with the angle, scooped it up as well.

Rilora shuttered but kept moving. It really had to be in the middle of a meeting? She wanted to blame her Gold for the poor night’s sleep before and the groggy afternoon, but it was as useless as blaming herself. Nothing to be done now. Only this present moment to attend to now. A Gold calling to her Weyr. A Flight to begin. A Hatching to follow. It was so utterly normal, in a world of battles and politics that were anything but. This minute it was only will and the call of the sky.

[Shoki]

Doramath had been sunning himself this afternoon. It was a great day for it, and his rider had work. It mattered little; he would be content without conversation. In the lazy daytime it was relaxing indeed.

But a roar changed all that.

The Bronze rose, feeling his pulse quicken. Fire began to burn, and Doramath savored the feeling for a moment before taking off and letting out a bugle. Queen called, and he would never refuse a Queen’s call.

V’lan felt Doramath’s wingbeats and he centered himself for a moment, pushing away from the desk in his quarters. He accepted the feeling of pending flightlust, a pang of annoyance disappearing after a moment. Though humans would much rather keep up with work or to their own schedules, dragons were as they were. Doramath would chase because he must, simple as that. V’lan would deal with that as he always did. He really didn’t have time to think about what that might mean this time around.

Doramath reached the Queen’s hunting grounds and waited. Archith’s hide shone, quite enticing indeed. The Bronze waited, waiting for her to begin the flight. She was Queen here, and worth chasing. He would follow her rules here, and prove himself best suited. After all, his standards for himself were no doubt as high as those she would set for him. He was sure of it.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Rilora kept dropping off. Of course, it wasn't like T'kar was in a position to help with that, or even a position to comment on it -- his own eyes were trying to close as well. Afternoon was a bad time for meetings, at least when his kids had kept him up all night the night before. He could operate excellently in the early morning following reduced sleep, but continuing that high-function into the afternoon was a different story altogether.

Then, it suddenly wasn't an issue at all. The moment the roar sounded, he knew. How not, when he couldn't have said for sure whether he'd heard that call through his ears or those of Ancalanath?

Stooping to retrieve the paper that had dropped, he excused himself as well, though to go where was something of an open question. Women... why did they have to be so complicated?

Ancalanath, of course, simply echoed Archith's roar with a bugle of his own. Now, once again, was the time to Chase, to compete for the attention of this Weyr's glorious sun.

[Kaya]

A Bronze, the intermediary. A Flame, an old flame. One of her Crimsons, intensely loyal. A smattering of smaller dragons who would follow onto to fall away. She looked up to see a wink of Rainbow disappearing. She screamed after it. She would not share her sky - as that disappearing one must already know. She crumpled up the herdbeast she was finished with and dropped it by the other, dissatisfied. She felt the one strong pull from the back of her mind - no, more like behind her thoughts, floating just behind her head where she couldn't reach it - saying no, saying to leave the weighty red meat lying on the ground. She grabbed a third in frustration and drained it, faster than the others. She would leave soon. Irritated by the influencing power on her choices, the Gold ripped the very dead, limp bovine to shreds. Claws red, maw stained, hide bespeckled with blood, she summoned up a roar of announcement. In the next moment she was already beating her wings furiously into the sky.

Up and up and up. It was dizzying to the woman left on the ground. She slid along the wall, her vision eclipsed by the rushing sky. She felt a touch on her elbow, then a woman's voice, guiding her the short, remaining way to her weyr. Once in a familiar place the assistant promptly left, only to be replaced by a gaggle of suitors. She stood in the center office and eyed them warily. She frowned. None of them ought to have shown up. Unworthy lot and ungrateful masses. There was a small voice buried under the Queen's defiance, one ready and willing to shake off her long span of isolation and play that risky game again. But Archith wasn't ready to hear it. They still had so far to go, all the air to breathe in and move. To change the world by displacing its contents by whatever margin they could manage. Her arms - wings - both, ached. The effort to climb burned, the hungry need for more air made its demands to her lungs, the goal to outdistance all others. She would escape the dogged pursuit of her life below, shatter the top of the sky, and erupt into the sun.

[Shoki]

The Bronze’s gaze flickered as other dragons appeared, but it could not stray long from the Gold Queen. They would not be the same familiar faces he competed with in turns gone by, but he would be an unknown quantity to them as well. How novel. No time to think of such things, the Queen chased others away from her stage. Doramath waited.

Finally, a roar, and she was away. Doramath bugled again, and was off after her. Straight up, climbing the sky. No slow ascent, this start was meant to immediately test the mettle of the suitors. The Bronze was delighted to be challenged, and kept a rhythm of wingbeats to keep after Archith.

The Bronze’s other half had taken a little longer to appear. Physical things could not be ignored, and once he arrived he leaned more noticeably off his left leg. His head was mostly in the sky though. A myriad of colors made this a bright flight, which was certainly different. Well, for a moment, it was all same once they stared at the golden queen. V’lan’s breath was even, and deep, paired to the wings that Doramath kept pushing to gain sky.

They would keep up with the Queen. They were confident in their abilities even still.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Ancalanath hated waiting. Just on principle, he hated waiting. Now though, with every moment timeless... he'd missed his last chance to show, to prove, that he was still wholly Archith's to command, through no fault of his own, for he'd not intended in the slightest to be away from the Weyr for her Flight, and would have persuaded his rider to wait their other tasks if he'd realized it would be that day, that hour.

None of that was important now. The only importance now was the Flight, the Chase, the dance of competition against the sky. Ancalanath's second bugle was of two-fold purpose. An announcement, a pledge, to his shining golden second sun, and a challenge to his fellows. They must all honor the Queen, and fly to their very best, all the way to the ends of the sky itself and beyond.

He would not drop back, would not drop out. Confidence or arrogance, the difference was non-existant, for both could be used as a bolster at need.

[Kaya]

Up and up and up.

Golden Archith, the Bronze, the Crimson, the Flame, a pair of Browns, a Purple, an Iron, a smaller Bronze with a splash of black across his face, a dozen trailing Blacks and Blues and Midnights and Sunlances and a Grey. The entire spectrum of southern colors filling the sky. The hundreds of eyes lifted up from the ground as dragons and Riders and Weyrfolk watched the Flight of dragons soar into the sky.

The Queen burned. Excitement and energy, passion and mischief, tension and an ache in her stomach. The sky was clear and open and endless, her goal only to fly higher and without limit. She allowed herself a small twist in the air to admire the suitors behind her. What lovely fellows, the dragons of her Weyr. None of them as grand as her, of course, but hers was a greatness beyond achievement. Not earned but essential.

The ache in her wing forced the climb to slow, and then level. The blur of dragons had quickly escaped sight of those back at the Weyr, except for those whose eyes were blurred between Weyr wall and whipping wind. Archith did not slow, she flew on. She would entertain skill or word or effort, but requested none, jealous of her own thoughts and energy.

Rilora-Archith watched the Riders arrive. She stood still some distance off, those few feet in the room, translated to many dragonlengths in the air. Slowly that gap would close, and she would torment those souls here to woo her, remind them of her power. A gnawing worry persisted over T'kar. She did not want him there. At the moment it was an acceptable audience, with a respectable distance. The only certain thing was that it would change, just as the blue of the sky cut away the stone walls of the weyr.

[Kitty]

It was a fine day indeed in the Weyr. Coming into the afternoon time, T’ler was out enjoying the day with his young blue. But one year out of Weyrling training, this pair found themselves in fine form. Razutoth was tiny in stature, even compared to those of his hue. But a more hard working and dragon-pleasing dragon you never will find. He longed to be held in high regard to his peers, yet no more than to his queens, and beloved bonded of course. T’ler was his best friend after all. Well the two found themselves in the Weyrbowl just soaking in the noon-day sun. Sure it was warm, but it felt good on their skin and hide. Mine… Isn’t the sun just glorious today? Maybe we should take a trip to the coast today… Spend some time in the water.” T’ler was just about to agree when a roar tore through the air. Razutoth stood straight and tall, flaring his wings. Mine! Archith flies… I must give chase! I will catch her! The young rider couldn’t help but admire his lifemate’s pluck, but as his attempt to deter his dragon was ready to be loosed, it died on his tongue when the tiny blue spread his wings as wide as they would go and bugled his own challenge to both the Queen and the other males of the Weyr.

It was done. The young and vibrant blue took off from the ground with just a couple downbeats of his wings. He had quite a bit of distance to make up but he would make it up and fly for the Queen as if his life depended upon it. Now many might question the abilities and stamina of the small blue, but no one could question his heart. His bugle rose loud and strong with those other dragons, even the mightier of the Bronzes. But win or lose, Razutoth would be flying his heart out today for the lovely gold Queen.

Knowing he could not compete with the Bronzes with stamina and strength, he would battle with speed and personality. So giving yet another bugle to let the Queen know he was giving chase, he would pursue. Drawing his wings in and showing expert control over his own body, he performed some tight aerial turns and spins to show off his agility as well as a bit of his enthusiasm and joy at being allowed to join her chase. He would fly after the pack as they took off after the Queen, focusing intently on keeping up but not draining himself in the first leg. Pace yourself Raz… I know Mine I know! He would win this beauty if he could, he just knew it. Today was his day!

[Shoki]

The initial rush was starting to wear off as they climbed even higher. Doramath was not tired yet, though he could feel the strain. He followed the Queen, and eventually she smoothed into a level flight pattern. She kept the tempo up even now. Doramath rumbled, pleased. She was indeed a Queen worth fighting for. This sky was hers for a reason. He kept forward, doing his utmost to keep every wingbeat well placed. Best foot forward, as always. For her, he would fly himself ragged, but for now he was all perfect form.

V’lan gave just a hint of a smile. Doramath wasn’t much for words. Dormath-V’lan was only for words when they were perfect. For now, the dragon was letting his wings do the talking. His gaze flickered to the ground- clouds. It was a good flight thus far, though his mind kept pulling back here for some reason. He pushed his mind back into the rushing wind and bits of cloud. Human affairs could wait.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Ever on, ever up. Ancalanath's wings, built for speed and maneuverability, tapering so that he had to work harder to climb, burned where they connected to his shoulders. No thermal was sufficient to this climbing pace, and Ancalanath drove on until finally, finally they smoothed into level flight. That was much better, for all that the pace continued. The burn was a familiar one, from a lifetime of stunts flown with his rider.

Arching his neck, then tossing it from sheer exuberance and joy, the glory of youth in its strength, strength offered as homage to the queen in whose form all true glory resided.

[Kaya]

As the ache in her muscles grew, so did the appeal of the suitors following her. The whole of them were so well representative of her Weyr - well, except for that Bronze one. He was interesting in his unique position of stationed but not one of hers. She would still escape further. Archith pulled into a climb again, wings screaming for the level flight she abandoned. It slowed her pace. The pack tightened.

She caught a better look at the little Blue, still in the back, not giving up quite yet. Commendable. She let out a little croon in his direction - he ought to know she noticed.

Closer still were the Flame and Bronze and Crimson. She swooped nearer the brilliant red dragon and nudged him, only to dart away again. She neared the Flame, she rumbled, but then swiped at him through the air. Archith gave her wings a great downbeat and rose, seeing the Bronze below. He was a handsome one. She let her voice ring, a great golden sound. The was the last climb. At its peak she would have no more energy. She would chose, and scorn the pull of the ground.

[Kitty]

The breakneck pace began to wear on the spunky little blue, and yet still he pushed himself on. He was flying for his Queen… Never did he ever know of a Blue finishing this flight the victor, and yet surely there was a chance for there to be a first time for even this wasn’t there? And if there was even the remotest chance, he was to be the one to take it. And even with all his desire and eagerness, the young Blue felt the strain pulling at his wingjoints as they screamed for reprieve. But no! He would not give in. He would fly to the ends of Pern for her if the Golden beauty asked for it! He would catch her if he could manage it. Sure the bigger dragons… The kings of the Weyr… They had more strength, more stamina… But if he could just keep going, was it possible that his speed and maneuverability could win out? He was small, but he was fairly strong for his color… Surely he had a chance…

Razutoth felt himself growing more and more rapidly weary, but he refused to let the pull of the ground do him in. His gaze met that of the golden Queen and her croon shot his confidence and eagerness sky high. He gave his best bugle for her even as she turned into a steep climb again. He wasn’t certain he could do this, but he flared out his wings and flapped for all he was worth trying his best to keep up, but one had to admit, he was falling toward the back of the pack… But at least he was still with the pack! The young blue had eyes only for the Queen, he didn’t pay any mind to the dragons flying about her, it was all about her and only about her. A Flight could only be ended when the mate was chosen. Raz was all through with the fancy flying at this point, he focused intently on staying in the Flight as long as he possibly could, perhaps through to the end.

T'ler was slightly surprised that his blue was still in this… How could he be? Then again he never was one to throw himself into anything without thought, and never one to give up the fight until he could not fight any longer. T’ler remained among the other suitors that vied for position and flew with their dragons as they engaged in that breakneck aerial dance that would decide the next clutch, and the next piece of the Weyr’s future.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Ancalanath hadn't thought he was crowding, surely he was no closer than any of the others. He swerved away though, dodging the swipe and falling back a little. He echoed Archith's call with a bugle of his own, a return statement as it were, a pledge to fly until she stopped, as requested, as seen.

Driving his wings down, he twisted, spiralling slightly in his ascent. One should show the absolute best of one's abilities, after all, for how else could a choice be made properly.

[Shoki]

The dragons pressed on, and the Golden Queen showed herself to be to recognize the efforts of her pursuers. It was admirable, and it was a sign that perhaps she had been watching a little closer than her lofty actions had implied. Or perhaps now she was more enticed by the competitors? That in itself was all the encouragement the Bronze required. Doramath did not need the more personal touch. However, when Archith called to them all, he responded. His call was a delighted response, and as full as he could make it after climbing thus far.

They climbed again and he pushed to make every wing beat count. His eyes were locked on the Queen, the kings around him, the competition matter less and less in the thin air.

[Kaya]

Archith set her wings to carry her on and looked back at the dragons behind her. She considered them, and rumbled to herself reflecting on the state of her Weyr: strong, dedicated, impressive. She turned to view the sweeping world in front of her. The wind rushing by. The light playing off clouds and trees and over mountain tops. She risked a twirl, dropping several feet. Beautiful. She slipped through the sky so high above. The tingling in her wings pulled gently at her attention. She crooned with happiness, taking the mix of exhaustion and growing contentedness in stride.

Doramath, fly with me.