** 2024 - pages moved from paveh_hold/siren, 2, 3, and slightly updated
note that the terms have been changed, 'healer' = Sehatan, 'breeder' = Peridian, etc **
Originally took place at Ablan Hold on Pern
** mention of dragon death **

As the daughter of Lady Holder Mirage and strangely telepathic dragonrider E'tan, Siren has always been pulled in several directions at once.

Her upbringing? Very private and well-educated, among the Holders at Paveh. Her father has rarely seen her, but his mental voice often touched her as a young child. However, when she grew older, his voice turned a bit odd and she knew that something was brewing with his camp. Though he is still a trusted member of the Protectorate, in fact a very close friend of Shard's, there are many others who believe that Siren's father E'tan is a danger to the world at large, or at least to certain portions of it.

What that danger is, or how it may manifest itself, is something that Siren herself wants to know. But she will not endanger herself unduly to get at any information.

Tall and pale, her skin does not burn in the sun, though it does not ever seem to tan. Her rich ebony-wood hair is usually styled simply, and her vibrant blue-violet eyes are careful and observant. Her face is a mask, rarely betraying anything but contempt for things around her, but in her heart, she has the best good for Pern in her.

At 17 turns, younger than her other, Impressed, half-siblings by more than three turns, Siren has had a rather private life with her mother, and she cherishes it.

***

. .

"Mother, do you think this color is right?" Siren asked. Mirage turned away from her embroidery and blinked at her younger daughter. The pottery she was glazing was nicely done (of course, everything her hands touched had to be nicely done!) and the colors which Siren held up in her smirched hands would look quite striking together, once burned on in a kiln.

"I think they will work," Mirage said. The full, pleasant lips of her daugher moved into a rare smile, and both went back to work. The pottery which Siren was becoming known for would be fired later in the day, at least some of the pieces. These pots would have to sit for a while, letting the glaze turn in the air and dry, before being fired. The clever way that they had to stay out in the air 'just so long' would make the glaze deep, cracking on the inner portion and still solid and smooth on the outside. An innovation which the glazers and clay-crafters of the area had complimented the young girl on.

Siren finally finished, and was careful when she wiped her brow not to get too much clay and glaze on her forehead. She was almost literally covered in clay from head to foot already, and Mirage always admired that in her last daughter. She was not afraid to get dirty, this tall healthy girl. That would come in particularly handy, if Mirage's instincts were right.

Her father was a dragonrider by choice, not by accident, after all. Mirage knew things about her daughter -- and her daughter's father -- which no one suspected. She kept them to herself, and she did not betray E'tan's knowledge. Nor did she agree with him, necessarily, but she knew what he wanted, and she agreed at least that their daughter would be important either way, in the end.

To oppose him, or to join forces with him.

Mirage sighed, as the fair-skinned girl bathed herself and squeezed the water out of her hair the way one would squeeze a wet shirt. "Don't you dare fling your hair up young lady!" Mirage said, before her daughter could do just that and possibly ruin her embroidery.

"Well, mother, working on a pristine piece of white cloth in a potters den is hardly a wise choice of venue..." Siren said, with a chuckle and a grin on her face. "I won't. But I'll drip all over you and your embroidery if you don't put it down!"

Mirage laughed and did as her child bid. It was never difficult to see what Siren wanted, at least for Mirage, but then they often shared exactly the same mask of a face, during a gather or dance, or meeting. With her precious banner now placed aside in a bag, Mirage rose and went to her wet daughter's side.

"Yes, my dearest?" Mirage said, and Siren waggled her eyebrows.

"I've made something for you. I think you will like it." She presented her mother with a fine piece of pottery, glazed deeply brown-red, which looked a little like a beetle. It was rounded on the top, and had holes into the interior, and the top came off to reveal room to put thread and needles. The six little feet on it were stable, it was a masterful work.

"All it really needs," Siren commented as her mother put it away happily, "is a metal clasp. I'm no good at putting things like that onto my work, you know. So you're going to have to find someone to do it for you."

"I think I can do that," Mirage said, and picked up her bag. "Come now, there is a runner race going to happen and I want to see it."

"You know that I would rather stay away from the smelly beasts," Siren turned up her nose, but followed Mirage anyway.

"You would think that you're Kalkin's daughter with that attitude," Mirage chuckled. "Now, stay with me here. I've placed marks on that white runner, and I want to make sure that I don't lose too much..."

***

Two sevendays later, when the glazed pots were finished and the kiln in use for other students, Siren unveiled her works for sale, at a gather. Paveh hold was busy, the season for runner races was well underway and there were many visitors from the neighboring cotholds who came to lose their hard-earned marks on those races.

Three of her bowls and five small mugs had already sold, and Siren was well into her bartering-mode. She was pleased both with her work, and her salesmanship. She was able to wheedle a good price, while not getting a reputation for being too much of a mark-lover. That, and her work was actually of a caliber that the Journeymen from the pottercraft nearby were having trouble keeping up with her, made her grin even wider.

She wasn't even an apprentice, in the craft. They knew it, she'd never been shown, she was just a natural. It made some of the students seethe with jealousy. Their Master was out at the moment, getting ready to lose more money at the races. So one of the boys who had been apprenticed for more than six turns and never had the results of this girl's natural talent, came around the back of her stall. Quietly, he slipped under the cloth backing, and looked around in the dim ante-chamber of wares. Out front, there was a thinner cloth between the table and the wares, where Siren stood and chattered with yet another high-paying customer.

With disgust, the boy took a moment to reflect. Which direction to swing? How many of those flying shards would hurt him in the process? He no longer cared. When he did start swinging, was right when the cheering of the crowd nearby grew to a huge pitch. The shattering wares, the thudding of the wooden bar into the support beams of the tent, they were hardly noticed among the cheers of the crowd.

***

"You were lucky you weren't badly hurt when the tent came down," Kalkin said, tending to his love's daughter. The elder man had put just enough numbweed on the girl's wound to keep her from wincing, when he applied the stitches to her forehead. A long but shallow gash along her hairline had been caused, when the tent collapsed. Her immediate reaction to duck was coupled with the flying pottery on the table before her, and ... Tears rolled down her face, but they were hot, angry tears.

"I can't believe their Master won't even chastise them. I KNOW who did it, and I KNOW they're going to go home gloating!" Siren grimaced, and Kalkin looked at her with a crooked eyebrow. She relaxed her face again, a very good patient. "But what can I do?" She sighed. "I don't want to have to start accusing them... They'll all stand together. I mean, if I had done something like that to someone, I'd band together and lie..."

"I know," Kalkin muttered, "believe me, I know..." He finished the stitching, and applied another thin coating of numbweed, as well as a paste for disinfection, before putting a loose bandage over her head. She'd want to put a more fashionable hat over it, probably.

To Kalkin's surprise, she did not. She looked at the older man, with serious, steady eyes. "What would you do then, if you were me?"

His raven eyebrows shot up into arcs, and he blinked. She knew very well what he might do... What he had done often enough, and what he was capable of... "My dear, you could just continue to produce better work than they, and make sure not to sell it near their booth..." He recommended, softly. But he saw the fire behind her eyes. ... Eyes so like Mirage's... And yet so filled with E'tan... He knew the blond man, her sire, well enough that he also knew that he'd be treating her wounds if she DID what he thought she might.

"You could get into more trouble than it would be worth, Siren," Kalkin said, holding his strong, long hand over her shoulder. "Let them be. They are envious -- and they have good reason, in case you had not noticed." With that said, a smile crept back over her features.

"You're right, uncle Kalkin, you're right..." She put her warm arms around him, and he so wished that she wouldn't call him that...

***

The second day of the gather was better than the first, at least for Paveh Hold. For the runners were in full swing, and the tithes they collected for the Protectorate were paid in this sevenday among all the weeks of the year. Wines from around the South came and went, jerky and smoked fish were traded from the coast and far inland, sons and daughters of Lordlings were introduced and paired off too young to know better...

And Siren sat with her mother, blandly watching a runner race. She did not quite detest the animals, but they were smelly and sweaty and messy. Not that she didn't mind getting dirty with her pottery of course, but... They were just... Icky! All that hair and spittle!

Kalkin shared her view, as well as the high seats with Siren and her mother. He tapped Siren's shoulder from around Mirage's back, and leaned his head around to nod a little, indicating something beyond the bleachers.

There walking around was a potter-boy, trying to sell his wares to the crowd. "A mark for two mugs! Fillem with cold wine! Fillem with water! Mark for two mugs!"

Kalkin blinked without much further expression on his long, lined face, and Siren's eyes narrowed into slits, with a slightly demonic smirk upon her lips.

She vanished from the booth, where the shade protected the higher ranking lords and ladies' skin from the harsh sun. Creeping around, behind the bleachers, Siren reached the area she'd seen the boy walking. She was not sure if he was the one who had ruined her stall and all her wares, but ... he was selling the same exact kinds of mugs and bowls which the rival booth had, and that was enough evidence for her.

She waited just in the shadow of the crowd. Someone nearby was arguing that a mark for two of these 'inferior' mugs was far too much, that more like five of them might make up for it... And all the man did when the mugs came crashing down onto the metal and stone bleacher stands as the boy tripped up, was laugh...

Siren snuck back around the bleachers, smiling to herself. She could contain most of her slightly uncalled-for pleasure, but not all of it.

"That was hardly necessary," said a man, "But you certainly seemed to enjoy it."

Gasping, Siren looked to see a tall rider, full in gear, standing with his arms crossed before his chest. He was a young, rather cute man, with a lock of hair dangling over one blue eye and a smirk on his face. Siren immediately sized him up and decided she liked him, just in general. He'd have to prove himself useful, to get anywhere more than that!

"Would you care to join me at the pastry and wine tent? I hear they're serving some new berry wines from Ablan, and that would surely scare away the parching in my throat..." He said, and Siren nodded. So he knew his charm... That was a bonus!

She allowed him to flirt, learning his name, K'lon, and that he rode a blue dragon. Siren smiled at him over a chilled mug of Ablan's good cherry wine, while he tried out their new berry-cherry concoction. They shared a small pie, as well, and Siren wondered absently if the people in Ablan Hold ever got tired of using cherry for darn near everything... The wood, the pies, the wine, the bread... everything had cherries in it!

"So, my dragon would like to meet you," K'lon said, abruptly. Siren nearly choked, and K'lon offered her a napkin and a small sip of wine.

"Why would that be, K'lon?" Siren choked out.

"Because I'm here on search, and I think you're going to make a great candidate for Reunjriti Weyr's fist clutch."

Siren bit her lip, and stared at the man. She blinked, and then... Her eyebrows went up slowly. "Reeeeaaaly..." She said, and took another long drink.

Moments after meeting the cheerful talkative blue Dansenth, Siren knew that he wasn't fooling. He was serious. She was Searched!

"I... shall have to go tell my mother then... That I'm off to ... Where? Reunjriti... Where IS that? I've never even heard of it..." She wandered away as K'lon chuckled with his dragon joining in.

**

Siren waited quite a while, as she was one of the first candidates on the sands at this weyr.

But at last, when the time came, she watched as a beautiful grassy-green snout poked from its egg.

I am Servoth, and you are meant for me!

With a gasp of delight, and a sweeping mental image from the dragon, Siren embraced her bond.

"I knew you'd come to me, I'll show you the world!" Siren laughed.

The sleepy, hungry dragonet looked up at Siren with whirling blue-green eyes. I see many things through your mind already. Where are we? Who is that man? And why do I want to ask you to scratch me?

Laughing still, and scrubbing with her strong fingers, Siren explained what she could, until the dragonet slept.

Though the other dragons from the clutch didn't seem to notice, and most of them were all right, it seemed apparent to Siren that something was very wrong with her bond. She was getting no bigger, and did not seem to want to mature.

It was when she stopped eating that Siren demanded to go to the dragon's infirmary - only to find that Reunjriti's grasp on its weyrhood had vanished. With trembling hands, Siren tried scratching the last itch that Servoth expressed... Her skin had long since gone stiff and dark, some of it had even blackened. Siren knew that her dragon was going to die.

But... she was a strong young woman. It had been months since their bonding, and it never quite seemed as right as she thought it should. She'd been so excited to stand, but then, this...

Her heart broke when Servoth exhaled a long, slow breath and did not take another. There were no other dragon young, and ... it was going to be a long long trek home.

(( Page siren2))

Siren came home with her eyes reddened and puffy. But she did not actually shed tears after stepping off the caravan and walking toward her mother.

Mirage was silent, but her porcelain face told Siren that she already knew. Perhaps it was their intense telepathic bond, or perhaps someone had sent a letter ahead.

"Reunjriti closed, something happened to them," Mirage said simply, but her profoundly sad tone almost brought a sob out of her daughter.

"My dragon is dead," Siren said. She began to walk toward the hold, but her mother put strong white fingers around her elbow.

"Siren, stay out here," Mirage said. "The hold is a mess - a steed got loose in the courtyard and-"

"Mother, I must rest," Siren said, flatly and with no further argument. The hold was indeed a bit musty and smelled rather bad of horse offal and grass. Half a dozen servants swept and scoured.

A couple of them raised their heads and almost greeted Siren, but then they saw the stormy look on her face, and they left her to her quick walk toward her rooms.

The room was still there, still hers as she had wanted it. But it smelled of cleaning fluids and not the way she remembered it.

Siren plunged into her pillowy bed, burying her face into the blankets, and cried silently.

Two days later, when Siren had barely come out of her room, and Mirage had to have food brought in and literally forced on her, Mirage entered her daughter's room and cleared her throat.

"Go away," Siren cried. "Everything else does."

Mirage sat gently by her daughter, running her fingers over her messy, dirty sable hair. "Siren, you have done more than most candidates could ever have. It was not your fault. Many of that weyr's dragons have suffered untimely deaths."

"Mine didn't bother to grow up at all... She just wasted away. I will too." Siren said. Her voice was muffled by the big pillows.

"You will have another chance at it," Mirage said, hardly daring to hope that Siren would accept.

"I will not have this happen to me again." Siren said.

"It won't happen again. It cannot. Twin Moon isn't an old world dragonry. It's off world. Their dragons are quite --"

"I DON'T WANT ANOTHER CHANCE! I want my dragon back!" Siren threw a smaller pillow at random, which Mirage didn't even have to duck. It impacted the wall and knocked over a vase that Siren had made several years before. It shattered into a thousand pieces, and Mirage got up off the bed.

"Then you need to get out of here. The only way you'll find a dragon now is if you go to a dragonry. Twin Moon is a perfectly good one."

After moments of stifling silence, Siren sat up. Mirage had gone, left the pillow and the crumbled vase where they lay. Siren got up, and with tears in her eyes making her progress difficult, she put the bigger pieces of the vase back into place. It could never be glued back together now. It was as shattered as she felt.

Yet... All the parts were there. The whole design was like a puzzle. Siren spent an hour with the remains of the vase before her, delicately pushing piece after piece together. It sat in ten large pieces, fragile enough that if one piece were to be moved, they would break again.

"There are other ways of finding your dragon as well," said a man's voice. E'tan. He stood leaning against the door frame. He looked weary, his blond hair was slightly longer than it ought to have been and he too had dark circles under his pale blue eyes. It wasn't because he had been crying, rather because he was in the middle of a long research project, and had learned of this little disaster.

"I don't want you here," Siren said, glancing over her shoulder. A portion of the vase crumbled again, and she sneered. "You've never been here when I needed you, why should you come now?"

"Because I can take you not only to your new dragon, but to your old one as well." E'tan didn't come in the room. He knew better than to do that. Siren was incredible. She held his prying mind at bay so strongly that he could locate her by the tremendous headache she caused him. He thought with a grin that this must be how Kalkin had to feel, when he had dragons talking to him.

"What do you mean, take me to my old one? The bones of my dragon rest on the bottom of a cavern - along with half her sisters and unhatched eggs that rot."

"Her spirit flies still." The tall man said. There was a hint of danger around him, but more of intensity. It made Siren very curious.

"Does mother know you're here?" Siren decided to ask.

"She brought me here," E'tan said. Siren couldn't tell if he was lying, or not. It hardly mattered now.

"What do you mean, still flies? The dragon is dead."

"Dragons and their riders spirits live on, in the Nexus. You're familiar with it, I believe." E'tan said.

"I am, but I think you're crazy if you --"

"I am hardly insane. The Nexus is a place filled with the minds and spirits of those lost. From many worlds, not just the last one we were on. Ask some of the riders who helped move us here to Alskyr."

Siren wasn't certain, but she thought she detected him trying to force the issue. She blocked his mind and he winced. So he had been trying. Siren sneered.

"I'd hardly go anywhere with you. You're liable to push me off and let me drift away."

"Only if I thought it would put a civil tongue in your mouth, Siren," E'tan snapped. There was fire in his eyes, now, but he wasn't angry. "You've certainly got enough fire for a dragon. Enough to spare."

Siren stood, letting the crumbs of the vase drift to the floor. She would want that left where it is, for her to fix later. For now, she was intent on fixing something far more important.

"You're serious," Siren whispered. "You want me to go to this... Twin moon, was it? Why should I go there?"

"Because the dragons there are sound, solid and quite beautiful. Quite like yourself. Now come along. Wash up and get packed."

"I've hardly unpacked from --" Siren choked again, but then raised her chin and said, "I'll pack better this time. I didn't bring enough pants last time."

(( From Aevan and Iva's Pages!! This is relevant, as Siren's portion takes place later ))

(site is long gone sorry) (though I did do that logo)

Neither dark skinned Sengihr could believe their ears when they were told the sad truth. The eggs weren't going to hatch. Iva was kind of pissed, that she'd wasted her time here. Aevan was truly disappointed, but distracted by many things otherwise.

But it was the reaction that the one young Zekiran (almost pernese?) woman was having, that really bothered both of them. Siren, the daughter of Mirage and Etan, was pretty much having herself a major nervous breakdown.

Both Iva and Aevan could sense her from half a mile away anyway - she was a Zekiran, after all, and her powers were kicking in. And she was the child of two of the most powerful mentalists there...

And she was just losing it. Outwardly, Siren did nothing more than stare and shamble around the dragonry (when they were still allowed to even wander the halls). But inside, Siren's mind was a cacophony of angry voices - all her own. Demands of why! How! met up with pitiful screaming and fearful doubts.

Iva wanted to try consoling her, but she could barely even get close enough to be in the same room, before her mind had to shut the girl out. Aevan swallowed it up, the Sengihr part of him truly taking a beating. That was his job, suddenly - because Siren began pummeling his high chest with her fists.

"It's not fair!" She yelled, half sobbing, "it's not fair! I can't take this any more! I lost my dragon before, and now there won't be another and everyone promised me! They promised me!"

"Shhhh," Aevan said, trying to hold her arms. She was a lot stronger than she looked, this girl. But eventually her angry cries gave way to a softer moaning sadness.

"Your dragon died?" Aevan said, and that provoked a big wail. "Sorry - sorry, I just... didn't realise that it would be so... Traumatic." He looked at the doorway where Iva was, with a strange expression. "Iva, are you sure that you want to do this now?"

"Are you?" She replied.

Aevan sought something deeper in Siren's mind. Back behind the anguish and anger, there was something. A brilliant spark, a memory of bonding. A sweetness, fulfilment.

"Yes," he said. "Siren, there is still hope. Wherever the Protectorate can go, we can stand. It doesn't matter any more, we'll take you with us, and all three of us can go back home together."

"Zekira is ready for more offworld dragons," Iva said, but just then Siren looked up sharply at her.

"Where?" She said. Both half-siblings grew a little stiff.

".... Zekira?" Iva said. "Where we're from?"

"I'm not from this Zekira place. I am from Pern."

"But you're Mirage's daughter." Aevan said.

"Lady Holder Mirage, yes," Siren said, backing away from the tall green skinned man. "And why are you green? It's not just the light..." She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "I thought it was always just the light..."

"No, I'm... green," Aevan muttered. "My father was blue, and my other father was dark brown, like her-" He was going to toss his head at Iva, but Siren went off on that one too.

"What - are - you - talking about?!"

She then bolted out of the room, and they had to chase her down.

In the process, however, they ran into the last person they thought likely to be sulking around the dragonry. A tall, dark furred male panther morph. Sovereign Fate - the rider of the clutch's sire.

"So she's found out, has she?" Fate asked, and the pair of Zekirans nodded. "Well, that figures. I really hoped that she would find something here... But now, it's gone..."

Even he was acting oddly. Normally somewhat flamboyant and cocky, the panther Kin type breathed a deep sigh and sullenly took the pair out to the sands. What was left there, was not pretty.

Siren was there, clutching on to soft cold eggs. She would run to another, dive upon it, but even the mother of this clutch didn't seem interested in stopping her from doing this to her own eggs.

There was no point, apparently.

The gold flame black sire gave a bit of a snort, and prevented Siren from leaving, blocking the exit with his long tail. The trio cornered her, and Aevan again tried to keep her steady.

"We'll go somewhere new, and we will see what's out there," Aevan said. "Siren, it's not the end of everything. You're quite young. And..." he gave a little smirk, "don't you want to maybe see why I've got two fathers and one of them is blue?"

That made her pause. Iva thought to herself that he was being a clever devil, good job of it. Even Fate seemed to like that line.

"He's got two fathers?" He asked Iva, who nodded, "I see."

"No, you probably don't. Want to come with us?"

"I thought I was the one to bring you where you want to go?" the ex-assassin said. His tail touched Siren's leg while it waved and she stared at it too.

"What is going on here? Where are all you weird people coming from?" Siren asked.

"We're Zekiran, and I don't know what he is." Aevan said.

"I'm Kin, but don't let anyone hear you say that. Just furry, miss. My studly companion here," he indicated Assassinezth, "will be happy to escort you away from this place. Come on. Maybe you can all take in a concert - the band that stole my name is playing again."

Since he had the keys to their proverbial car, they had to agree.

***

Follow Aevan Follow Iva

**

(( Back to Siren's pages, was siren3 ))

When last we met Siren, she had been headed to the sands at Twin Moon. Sadly, this dragonry too was falling to the illness that had pervaded many worlds - and the eggs upon the sands went cold and dead. This was not Siren's first encounter with death, for she had already impressed a lovely dragon not long before. It has been perhaps only two months for poor Siren, who lost her dragon and then lost hope yet again, when Twin Moon failed to hatch.

But she found solace and friendship in several very odd new people. People who claim that they thought she belonged on their world, Zekira. Though born in another world - Pern - Siren would eventually follow these people and their otherworldly furry companion, to new places.

Distracted sufficiently to keep her from trying to commit suicide, or remain grieving for her departed dragonet, Siren agreed to follow Sovereign Fate to another world, while Iva and Aevan headed off to their own dragonries after the Twin Moon disaster.

Siren realized with a start, that the beautiful gold and black flame-patterened dragon that Sovereign rode was the sire of that clutch. She was regaining her composure, and stroked the nose of the dragon softly. "I'm sorry your eggs didn't hatch. I'm sure they were going to be lovely, but ... there will be others. You're a very handsome dragon."

That this Pernese girl who was brought up to believe that dragons only came in five colors - and gold was not among male's colorations - could say such a thing meant more to Assassinezth's rider, than to the dragon. It meant that she was growing too, expanding her mind and emotions.

"I know where to go," he said, the black panther morph indicating that they mount up again. They'd been on a tour for a while, following the 'kin band that did indeed have Sovereign's name. Siren wasn't sure what to make of this music they created, but many people seemed to enjoy it, you could dance to it, if a bit... wildly.

"Where?" Siren asked, but Fate didn't do anything except shake his head and grin.

That he had fangs when he grinned still shook Siren a little bit...

They wound up at a place that had roots in Pern, for Siren knew the name Starburst from there. But it had long since relocated, and this starfaring dragon and rider showed off by making Siren aware that no huge dangerous Red Star circled around this planet... Two suns, certainly, but ... that wasn't much of a problem. They wouldn't be worrying on that too long.

What she would be worrying about... was that there were indeed eggs on the sands. However, that was not where Fate was walking!

Instead, tugging on Siren's shoulder and finally having to grip both of her shoulders and walk her physically deeper into the dragonry, he sent her into a lair where there were young dragons. Already hatched, some seemed close to adulthood or were at least fairly large in size for their youth.

"Wait..." Siren said, her head trying still to move her toward the hatching sands, but eventually pulling back with her eyes at this batch of colorful, if sad (or angry, or melancholy) dragons. "Wait, these... are ... dragons without bonds."

Sovereign Fate nodded, and said, "yes, they are. And you, my lady, are a girl without a dragon."

Siren's heart skipped a beat. This ... place, should not exist. But then again, from everything she'd seen in the last few months it ought not surprise her. There were dragons that looked as though they might have been Pernese, but they were in colors that were all shades beyond the normal five. Rainbow shades, colors that reminded Siren of her pottery and how the glazes danced in the sunlight.

She didn't even notice when Fate slipped out, back to his dragon and to strut about for whoever would think of watching him. They would most likely be watching his dragon, at any rate... And that dragon seemed to be watching a particular pair of greens who glowed a bit...

"Why don't we come out into the light," Siren said to the group of dragons. There was a courtyard beyond their dens, but it almost looked as though some didn't want to use it or be seen. "Come on, I would so love to see your colors! Where I'm from no dragon has skin that shade!" She waggled her fingers at the dragons, and some of them began to follow.

One in particular kept bringing Siren's eye back. A glossy green, sparkling in the sun. Even though she'd only been impressed for a few months, Siren knew how to bathe a dragon, and she immediately offered to start scrubbing down some of those who wanted interaction. The smaller ones, younger ones, seemed to really enjoy that!

But the one, the green... Though Siren was reminded of her Servoth, this dragon was nothing at all like that one. Whenever Siren went to have a moment with her, though, one or another of the more colorful rainbow-hided dragons would butt their head under her hand and insist on more scratching. She delivered, laughing.

This was more attention from dragons than she'd known in her whole life, even at the other Weyr!

I know you would like to speak with me, bespoke the green in a strangely hesitant voice. Her mind was music, but ... slightly off key, or waiting to be tuned. It could be a grand symphony of sound... but instead it was slightly broken. I too feel that we would be appropriate. I would not have you leave me. ... Look at them... they want you too.

"What?" Siren said, suddenly, dropping the sponge with water she held. Another of the rainbow hided dragons, slightly older than the green, batted at it playfully and squished the water out of it. "What do you mean?"

You do not like runners, but you are not afraid to get dirty with us, dragons are more your style are they not?

"Well ... obviously!" Siren said, tsking her tongue and putting the sponge back into the big trough for washing. The other dragons sat and watched. Though their green companion was slightly younger, she took after her mother in ways - and when she wanted to take charge, she certainly did so with style. Otherwise, with wrath, they would be chastised. They didn't feel like getting in her way.

".... I think I know your name," Siren said, "Sikishath," she breathed it like it was the first word she'd ever uttered. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but this time at least, she knew that this dragon would not be parted from her side. If they were to part it would only be perhaps to hunt or sleep... and even then. Siren suddenly understood why Fate had brought her here. And she chuckled at his name being so ironically appropriate.

"But what do you mean, these others... I have you now!" Siren said.

But they do want to go home with someone, and they can take care of themselves, ... mostly.

I heard that!

Me too! We're good at taking care!

We're careful!

Sikishath's eyes turned a bright yellow and swirled with blue, almost looking like they were rolling, a human gesture certainly. You see what I mean?

"I think they need someone to take care of them... yes...." Siren said. "But I can't bond them."

They need no bond, only friendship. That they lost, when they first attempted to leave here. The others, who won't come out, you are not right for them. They likely wait a true bond. I hope they find one.

"I do too, oh Sikishath I do too. What... what now? I mean, I hardly even know this place, let alone who to talk to. What if they don't want me to take any more but you? You are my bond, oh Sikishath, you are my bond..." Siren threw her arms around the dragon's slender neck, still crying.

Name: Sikishath
Gender: Female
Colour: Iridescent Green
Size: Green-sized
Parents: Sakishanatath and Khalbalahath (clutch 04)

"Of course you understand they will want to remain together," Starburst said, jotting down names and clutch numbers in shorthand.

"I do see that," Siren said. "They're old enough to fly, do they get out much?" She asked other questions of the sponsorlings she was going to be taking on. They were mature, or just about, slightly older than Sikishath but slightly bigger too. Sikishath didn't seem in the slightest bothered by their coloration - after all, though they were rainbow-y and bright, she was sparkling green that didn't ever sit still. Even in the dark, her hide shone like sunlight behind a leaf, and Siren would melt every time she saw that color.

They were indeed old enough to know how to fly, as well as how to teleport. They would be heading back to this new world, Zekira, where there might already be a girl named Siren - who was most certainly not a dragon rider! Or a potter, for that matter.

I will want to see these pots you make, you keep comparing those two to them. Make one like me! Sikishath bespoke and butted her head onto Siren's shoulder.

"Well as long as no one comes and breaks my work," Siren said, the wierd mixture of memory and pain, guilt, superiority and distant loss, recalling the day she was searched - which would always lead her mind to the day she impressed, but now she had three hungry dragons to take her mind off what happened next!

We will make sure that you stay protected, Bespoke Yamkath, And you make sure that we get good baths!

Yelenath gave off a draconic giggle at that, and squished her paw onto the sponge (she'd swiped it, the moment they realized it was time to leave... someone else would have to find a new one!) and squirted Siren with it.

Siren laughed, "I will have a lot of work ahead of me, then..."

Name: Yamkath (Native American: budding flower)
Gender: Female
Colour: Green-blue-purple
Size: Small
Parents: Yemth and Danonustapth (clutch 02)