BACK

She didn't have to ask anyone permission to leave, she didn't need to verify with any family, or Holder, or Master. Faralona was free to do as she would - the only things holding her back for even a moment were what to do with her beloved Backy, and how to properly get this information to Polly.

Faralona was more formally Searched when the green's rider, the woman named Desumi, pulled out a tablet (of ... real paper? paper?) and took down her information. Age, location. She did ask - and was told the situation - about the family she'd abandoned. But what she wrote on that paper Faralona didn't quite see. She knew though, that there was no chance that the green rider would bolt off to talk to her father or family, or even the Lord Holders. They weren't here to bother with such things, they were on Search.

Search for riders trumped every single family issue - Faralona had keenly listened for those ballads, and been rewarded with a number of stories about Holders, Lords, errant servants and many more. All of them successfully relinquishing their terrible situations and heading into the Weyrs where they belonged. Truth be told, Faralona knew better than to think any one of those stories were actually wholly true, but still. What she wanted out of them, and what their composers wished to convey, was the hope they carried. After last night's revelation, the note still tucked into her shirt and close to her heart, Faralona knew she needed hope more than almost anything in the world. And she wanted to send that hope to Polly as well.

She bid Emba a proper thanks and fare-well - she'd long since paid back any healing debts or cothousing dues, and promised that she'd relay as much as possible about her situation whenever she could. Then she steeled herself - she'd housed Backy with Carson for quite a while, and parting with the runner would be difficult. Of course, she assumed she'd have to - bringing a runner up to a cold place like Dragonhope? Though they weren't particularly close to that Weyr, protected as they were by the more local one, Fara had heard of the place from a variety of wanderers and traders.

"Of course she'll have a fine home here," Carson assured Fara, "I won't sell her off to anyone, and I know she'll need a good young rider to train up to riding her proper-like."

"She's really good at hunting, if Raris ever needs her, he'd be the first I'd suggest." Raris being the boar-hunter, of course, whose own runner was a little skittish, a bit weak - Backy had both the temperment and the sturdy build to hold those boar when they were slung over her back.

Faralona gave Carson a longer hug than he'd expected from her, she seemed... pretty different just in that moment. He'd find out later what went on, from Emba naturally.

It was just like that, from hardly dawn to perhaps mid-afternoon, that Fara's life changed once more. She gathered her gear, she was given leave to keep her leather hunting gear and spears, and took what few things she'd gained over the months. Blankets and clothing mostly, Nibble's little pot which was now in use as a candle holder; but also a clever little arm strap which Nibble could stand on - and which housed small scrolls for sending messages, and a little pouch of treats. She'd wanted everything in one place, and the leather-worker in Spiral Hold had been making these things for the flitter owners - he'd make a pile of Marks on them some day!

"Ready?" The green rider Desumi said. "K'lieu's brown will be taking you, since B'art's will be holding on to those supplies we've got."

Eryth did look a bit on the small side, though Faralona was sure that she would have been able to ride behind the black-haired woman, they wanted to make sure there was room for another younger hold-brat that had been Searched as well. He'd be sitting in that spot behind the rider on her green, while Fara got up with the other man.

K'lieu was... very pretty. Prettier in fact than most women Fara had met, and it looked like he knew that. He was so pale, his hair was like spun sunlight. The thing was, he looked at Faralona's hunting gear and brightened right up. "I wonder if you'll be on my wing," he said - he was that sure that she'd Impress? That he was already thinking they'd share a wing?!

"Um..."

"Oh - I ... I mean, more, that you're a hunter." They approached the Flats and his strangely long dragon. "I've been able to hunt for the Weyr myself, even though I've got more than enough education in Minecraft work. We're all from different backgrounds, you know? At Dragonhope I mean." He shook off the flitters, and Faralona noticed that a couple of them did stick around, a strangely white one and one which was almost black in its slate-blue color. They didn't look a thing like her own flitter. They were as different from Nibble, in fact, as the dragon was from his two companions.

But apparently, Faralona tucked away that information, there were plentiful crafters at Dragonhope. That would be good, though she wasn't a crafter and certainly would look forward to ... "Hunting from dragonback?" She said, "wouldn't that usually scare off the prey?"

"Sometimes," K'lieu admitted, while helping her to stow her satchel and second bag onto the dragon's harness. "But you'll see. At least Khalth here is quiet in the air. My only problem," he swiped at the still clingy flitters, "are these flits that seem to congregate... Yours is really well behaved. That's pretty unusual too."

Too?

Well, she didn't much get a reply about that, when she looked at him with a question in her eyes. He boosted her up to the harness, and rather than relegate her to tucking behind him, he asserted, "you should start learning this as soon as- oh, you've already done that, okay..."

The harness seemed so easy to understand. "Well... It's not like I don't ride for a living, just not a dragon!" She said. It was clear that the strap went that way, though his riding jacket had a loop on it and her own leather gear lacked one just yet. With this long, slender dragon, she felt they might indeed be very good hunters! And even though they were still just standing on the ground in the Hold's flats, she could see much farther than when on a runner. The dragon himself seemed coolly accepting of her as his 'rider', though obviously he'd respond to K'lieu instantly. He could feel her knees gripping, she was not used to such a large beast under her.

"So, go on," K'lieu suggested. Faralona let her instincts take over - what would she do with Backy? A well-trained runner like that, all she really needed to do was slide her hips a tiny bit and they were on the move. A dragon's back was a little different, she had to use her legs more fully. But that was all: Khalth sensed this was the right thing to do, crouched and waited a tiny bit for his rider and their passenger to get ready. Then he pushed hard into the air, with those long wings of his he easily grasped enough air to continue upwards.

Faralona's mouth opened in an eager, surprised shout - everyone down below was cheering too. She felt K'lieu's strong arm gripping her waist, and instead of turning to slap him - which was her first instinct (since she'd been accosted more than once in any given drunken tavern fight) - she relished it. He was holding on because she had the reins so to speak.

She wanted so dearly for that arm to belong to Polldyn.

***

Dragonhope was quite the place. Faralona first had to get used to the chill in the air, and the strange smells. Her nose got cold and red almost immediately, but it was to a crowd of similar faces, hardly out of place. The halls themselves though... "It's ... rather warm in here, now that we're out of the landing places?"

The locals chuckled and tossed heads - some of them seemed to blow her off but then she realized they weren't really doing that - they were indicating the odd vents that rested along the bottom of the hallways. Where there were bright lights (she'd never seen such brightness - of course, she'd never heard of electricity before either) on the ceilings, there was warm air coming through these vents. This place truly was a marvel of engineering.

But the sea hold below, that too was beautiful. She'd never seen the ocean, not even a bigger inlet than some of the lakes that other Holds were built upon. This? She got tears in her eyes just looking at it, she suddenly loved the smell and the breeze. Polly would love this too, she knew it.

Once the tour of the Weyr was given, she was put up in the collected Candidate dorm. Much used to being in cramped quarters or even her small but still private cothouse, Faralona chuckled at herself. She'd get used to this, and then she'd be off to another Weyr - Dragonhope had a lot of golds, and had had plenty of hatchings, but tended to rely on other hatchings at distant Weyrs for their own riders' dragons.

And she'd be among them now. She would be a rider, well she hoped anyway. The group of younger weyrlings in training strode by with their gangly and somewhat half-clumsy dragons, heading down to the training flat. Experienced, elegant and older riders came down from the brilliant white sky, saluting each other and greeting people as they headed down to the kitchens.

This place. This would be home and she would love it. She already did! Nibble was excited when they were shown the candidates school chambers. There were maps like she'd never seen before, Threadfall and land maps, political lines and what had to be tithing spots. Star charts, she knew those would be something to concentrate on because didn't dragons navigate that way?

They'd flown overland to reach Dragonhope, it hadn't been all that far away from Spiral Hold, along increasingly lumpy terrain. It was hard to believe that her warm Hold's location was hardly half a day's flight away from this chilly sea! But then, how far did Dragonhope's riders go to Search?

She learned a little later that sometimes they would go quite far indeed. But for the time being, she and the others were encouraged to record their thoughts in journals provided by the Weyr. Paper journals, that was not even a novelty, that was just outright bizarre! She'd seen such things, but almost never up close.

She chose to write about her prior few days, before dedicating a page to her newfound life. And on that whim too, she wrote a simple note and sent it off to Polly - with the same concentrated 'if she's not alone, don't stick around' urgency to Nibble's command. Faralona wasn't nearly as worried that time, as half a candlemark went by and finally the blue came back to her with a new note tucked into the slender canister she'd bought.

He seemed clingy and a little chilled, and she realized: it was that he probably first headed 'home' to their cothouse in Spiral. "Silly little blue, you can always come to me, remember?" He chirped, she felt his relief when she cuddled closer to him and warmed him, plus joy when he got a sweet-pea treat.

lords fighting over the lady, none worthy, all too simple for her
she waits to see her noble rider arrive

Well then, that settled it. Faralona had to Impress, there was nothing else for it.

It wasn't just for Polly, it was for the good of all. She'd be able to hunt? She'd surely enjoy that! Dragonhope's riders were not just encouraged to learn skills outside of their riding and tactics, but expected to do so if they were already part of a guild or hall. There were miners, gemcutters, leather workers, glass shapers... All along side their healers, dragon-healers, cooks, woodworkers.

Faralona did miss the Harpers though - this place, oh how there was some bad blood among the Harpers and Scribes. But she could read, and enjoyed the fact that they had an actual printed newspaper here! She could get her information from a Harper's ballad just as easily as scanning down the lists of words on the paper, but truth be told, Faralona was used to listening and paying attention.

It was a good thing, too, because that one candidate in training who almost fell asleep? He was nearly run out of the Weyr! The Weyrling master explained in some amount of detail, empassioned, that if you couldn't keep track of things right in front of you in a safe classroom, how in the world would you be able to in Thread?!

That made sense to Fara. She raised her hand and the Weyrling master, R'vfen by name, nodded to her.

"Sir, when I'm out hunting on runner-back, it's essential to know the area, and to know the sounds, as well as all the other things - the looks of burrows or pits, scrapes from tunnel snakes on the branches or rocks. Thread is... silent, isn't it? It's something you have to look for?"

"Silent, yes," the one-eyed man replied. "You can hear it, when it's almost too close; a sort of... hissing. It almost whistles in the air."

"Like a ribbon?" Asked one girl, "they sort of make sounds if you snap them through the air?"

This went on - he was sure that of the remaining students, he had a few good potential riders in the room. Good observations from a few, and wide-eyed learning from others. Faralona was pleased that she'd made a good statement, he congratulated her after class at any rate.

***

A few days later, Faralona was brought before the Weyrleaders. As disparate a pair as she'd ever seen, Kira the Weyrwoman was small, quite short particularly compared to her husband Weyrleader S'xon. Of course she'd done a bit of reading about this pair. They seemed to have been the leadership of this Weyr for... quite a while. They didn't look in their sixties. Not even a little bit.

"She's a quick one," Kira said, abruptly, and turned with a smile back to her paperwork.

"Oh so you're - well thanks." S'xon said, rolling his eyes and giving off a brilliant smile to Fara. "You'll be going to Aneris Weyr, there are a small number of others already waiting there. It's our grand-daughter's gold's clutch there, you see. So we're being... somewhat picky about who is sent."

"I cannot even imagine you're old enough to have grandchildren, sir, let alone those old enough to have a queen dragon on sands." Faralona blurted out, "but... okay..."

To that, Kira in the other corner of the room let out a delighted and barely-concealed snorting laugh.

"Well, I mean..." Faralona realized that she might have offended them. "I -"

"It's a rather unusual clutch, and given your situation," S'xon stated while examining his long, perfect nails (they had to be perfect, if he was going to look at them like that...), "you probably will be interested in the results."

"My situation, sir...?" Faralona looked away, "I... yeah, I do have a situation, don't I..." She just hoped that it wasn't going to be printed up in tomorrow's newspaper.

He gave a bit of a smile. "You do, it's not unheard of. But you do need to remember that your duties will primarily be to our Weyr, to Pern, and then to anything or any one else, after."

Faralona straightened, and saluted as she'd been shown. "Yes, sir. I don't want you to think that I'm just going to be distracted. Even if I don't Impress, I hope that I'll be able to serve the Weyr in any way I can."

"That's the attitude I want to see," S'xon asserted. "Now, pack up again, we'll be sending you to Aneris and hopefully the two of us will be on hand to see the hatching."

"No pressure at all, huh?" Kira muttered, and Faralona couldn't help but chuckle at that. She liked that woman, and her husband. Weyrleaders or no, intimidatingly tall and dangerous or not, Faralona ... felt like she belonged here. That they acknowledged and accepted her situation, that too was both impressive and reassuring. She didn't have much time to read up on Aneris, though, or this clutch that the Weyrleader's granddaughter was hosting there. That would come when she arrived.

***

It was certainly an... interesting clutch. She'd never heard of such dragons before - though her short sevenday stay at Dragonhope showed her that there were colors beyond the five they were always taught, and that... Sometimes... Those colors didn't even ring true to their genders.

The brilliant, sun-lit-yellow gold queen had been paired to a strong, burnished gold male! He was definitely not bronze, so... There was a new sensation in Faralona's much-conflicted gut now. She felt that this must be the best place, the exact right time, for her to become that rider that Polldyn needed.

Could she wait - though? She knew from the brief training with R'vfen that it would be at least a year before the dragons hatched in this clutch would be strong enough to fly anywhere, let alone go between. She hadn't asked, and could never have imagined that R'vfen and S'xon had many ways of avoiding that wait, but... she'd have to learn that in time.

It would be a year that could be a disaster for Polly. It had already been hard on her, Fara just knew. Polly would only be able to taunt and keep them at bay for so long, before her own parents would put their collective foot down and force her to decide. Deciding between the lesser awful of a group of sodden, lusty, or dangerous men...?

Faralona sent one more note, there will be shards before smooth sands, knowing that Polly would understand. They'd be together.

They would.

 

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