The First Test (THREADFALL)

[Zen]

Perched atop the golden Orlaith, Talaria surveyed the ranks of dragons above her, chewing her lower lip in her only sign of the anxiety she was feeling. Thread had fallen in the more tropical climates of Pern already and only a few dragons had been lost, though a number more had been injured. However, comparing Western with any other Weyr on this matter was almost pointless as the others had many more dragons. Thanks to G’brel Western hardly had any of the larger, longer lasting dragons and their numbers were worrying. She was thankful that Thread did not fall as long at the beginning or she feared they would not be able to properly see to the threat.

She shifted the flamethrower across her back to a more comfortable position, her gaze fixing on A’dion and his great Bronze Zevranth, high above. His wing flew highest, they would be the first to meet Thread today. Her gaze shifted reluctantly to G’brel where his wing flew below A’dion’s. And then there was her wing, the lowest fliers, hardly enough to really make up a true wing, but it was what it was. It would be an easy fall or so it could be surmised from comparing their current conditions to those in the records, the wind was negligible and Thread would fall in thin sheets. She couldn’t have asked for a better first Threadfall for her as yet underpopulated and untested Weyr.

She took a deep breath, her gaze moving over A’dion once more, briefly. She had kissed him and told him he had better not die and leave her with G’brel again before they had mounted their dragons and led the wings to defend Western. She had tried not to make too much of the kiss, it hadn’t been long, but for some reason it had still made her…-

It comes, Talaria.

Orlaith’s soft growl and her voice edged with… hatred? sounded in her head, interrupting her thoughts. She turned her gaze after that of her dragon’s and saw the shimmer of silver approaching, falling harmlessly into the sea below where it writhed and hissed into death and was quickly eaten by fish swarming near the surface. She checked her riding straps and readied her flamethrower, Keep in touch with Zevranth, Orlaith… I want to know what’s going on up there.

~

Thread.

M’kal blinked and followed the Black’s gaze to where a sheet of silver appeared on the horizon, inhaling deeply. He looked around, seeing others notice as well, “Thread approaches! Pay attention and keep ranks!” He looked over his riding straps and pulled the goggles atop his head down over his eyes, “Be ready!”

He glanced toward A’dion who flew some distance away. He had not missed the kiss Talaria had given him. He was loathe to admit that it made him a little jealous, but it did. Talaria had told him not to do anything stupid with the slightest of smiles on her lips, which he knew quite well was her own way of wishing him luck and letting him know she worried for his safety, but what were words compared to a kiss…?

Sabath growled, THREAD is coming and all you can think about is not receiving affection from Orlaith’s rider!? He flinched at his dragon’s reprimand, Perhaps you should heed your own words, pay attention and be ready! M’kal drew in a deep breath and reached into one firestone sack hanging near his leg, Sabath turning his head, mouth open, making quick work of the firestone his rider tossed into it. The two said nothing more to each other.

~

Nyx stood, grounded with the older weyrling group to make sure things ran smoothly and even to help out with delivering firestone up to the ranks since this class was a rather small one. She sighed, she’d much rather be up there fighting… it was their first ever Threadfall of the pass for Faranth’s sake and instead she felt like an overgrown weyrling. Oh well, nothing much to be done about it. Delivering firestone to the ranks was an important duty, even if it didn’t feel like one; that’s what she had told the weyrlings when a few of them grumbled about not being able to fight Thread like ‘real riders’. Well she was definitely a real rider and she wasn’t fighting either, they’d have their chance soon enough, Thread would be around for a long time now.

Roth growled low in his throat and she looked to him, then to where his gaze was locked on the oncoming fall. She turned back to the weyrlings, “Thread’s on its way, make sure your dragon is alert to requests from above for more firestone and make sure you take the right sacks with you, it wouldn’t do to give a Bronze a sack filled with stone for a Green!” She looked to those without dragons, weyrfolk, a few holders who had volunteered to help, and candidates as well, half there to help sort firestone and the other half equipped with flamethrowers. They were to trade off duties about halfway through the fall.

She’d had conferred with A’zael and told him that it wouldn’t due for the both of them to be grounded, the Weyr needed all the dragons it could get in the air, and so like the candidates, they would switch off duties. A’zael’s Blue did not have great endurance, only slightly more so than most Greens. It wasn’t likely he would be able to last a full Threadfall, even a shorter one as this promised to be, and so she would relieve him when he tired and A’zael would take over command on the ground.

~

A’zael and Navith flew with A’dion’s wing, both of them rather excited at the prospect of their first ever Threadfall. Don’t tire yourself out too quick, Navith.

Oh, please… you’ll tire before I do.

Small chance of that, but whatever you have to tell yourself, pal, he grinned and gave the Blue’s neck an affectionate slap before glancing down to the ground far below. Nyx’s Burgundy Roth was a small blotch of red and he could make out the colors of some of the larger weyrling dragons as well, but as to people, he could not even make out dark specks. Keep in touch with Roth.

I know, I know, you’ve only reminded three times already. My memory is not THAT bad….

He grinned again before hearing M’kal shout to be ready. He and Navith both turned to see the leading edge of Thread drawing closer. Quickly, he gave his dragon firestone, one eye on the Thread. He pulled on his goggles, “Here we go, Navith… our first test. Let’s pass with flying colors, eh?”

There was a moment of stillness among the wings, unnatural almost, as Thread fell closer and closer, and then a rainbow of colors were flashing this way and that, Threadfall upon them, dragons flaming and winking between and back again, diving and darting through the sky.

*Candidates and the older Weyrlings class are both on the ground below, along with some other non-dragonrider weyrfolk and a few holderfolk and crafters who had volunteered to help. A few metal shelters have been constructed where healers are ready to treat any wounded and extra firestone is stored to be sorted by those candidates assigned to the duty. Candidates who are not sorting firestone are equipped with flamethrowers to destroy any Thread that might get through the wings and to the ground to burrow. The older Weyrlings should be helping sort firestone and be ready to take up sacks to riders who need more if their dragon is contacted by a wingrider. The Happy Holidays clutch is too young to be of any use during Threadfall and the whole class is back at the Weyr with an Assistant Weyrlingmaster, ready to assist any dragon and rider that return to the Weyr too injured to return to the fighting. Any able adult rider should be in the wings, fighting. If anyone has questions they can feel free to ask me either through PM or in the cbox.

[Sh'mal]

Sh'mal stared off into the distance. He knew everything that the Records said about Thread, and, of course, what was in the Teaching Songs, but still he wondered. I guess everyone wonders, though. At least we have some knowledge of it...
Thread is Thread. There is nothing more to know, Ligeth commented, his voice flavored with an emotion deeper than hatred, a burning, determined anger that surprised Sh'mal with its intensity. Well, he said finally, I suppose you're right. Our job is to destroy it, no matter what. As long as we know enough to do that, nothing else matters. Ligeth grunted assent.
Just then, Sh'mal's eyes caught a glint of silver in the distance. Thread! Ligeth screamed into his mind. The bluerider felt his insides tighten up in a mixture of excitement and dread. We exist for this purpose, he reminded himself and put on a determined face. He glanced up at the strong figure of the Weyrleader and felt his anticipation grow as he awaited the signal to fight.

[kickflare]

Nix had strapped up Metholith ready for the thread fall as soon as she was told what time it would hit. Metholith rumbled, her necked arching upward towards the sky looking fo rthe silver menace. Rolling her shoulders, she cast a glance at the other riders before the mental shout of thread sounded from Metholith. Nix's head snapped upward so sharpyl it was a wonder she didn't end up with whiplash. Glancing over, she waited for the signal to mount up and take flight. It took moments before Nix heeded the signal and swung up onto thick neck ridges that lined Metholith's neck.

"Move on Bronze Zevranth command, Metholith."[/color] Nix uttered softly, the wind toying gently with loose strands of hair that fallen free of her tightly knotted bun that was now secured under her riding helmet. Tightening the straps on her riding jacket, she saw the signal andfelt the muscles in Metholith's back tighten. Moving her hand tot he riding straps, Metholith leapt upwards, her great wings spreading instantly and with a one great downward sweep sent them both soaring into the sky after the rest of the wing. Metholith bellowed her challenge to thread before she was given firestone by Nix and the two flew forward, with Nix pulling her goggles over her eyes, the fire of determination to destroy that threat that lurked over them took over her green optics.

with a audible pop, Metholith winked between and reappeared, her jaws wide as she belched forth a great tongue of flame, reducing a chunk of thread to ash before she turned sharply to catch another.

"MORE!" Metholith roared into Nix's mind. Nix respoinded instantly her hand digginto the bag at Metholith's necka nd tossing forward some firestone to Metholith's awaiting maw.

~~~~~

S'ren waited at the weyr with blue Golth, who was complaining bitterly at not being able to join the fight. Sighing heavily, Sren let his hand rest on Golth's shoulder.

"We'll join the fight soon enough Golth. It'll be here for a long time. WE'll get our turn to destroy them."[/color] S'ren uttered softly, before heading inside to check on the numbweed pots. He had been told they were need to check on them occassionally as it would probably be needed.

~~~
R'zaen checked his seating on Brown Tanith's neck before the flight against the ancient menace began. Swallowing thickly, R'zaen lowered himself against Tanith's neck as they flew forth. Tanith's head only moving to flame and collect more firestone before he turned sharply, diving down to follow another chunk of thread. With tanaith twisitng, swerving and rising and falling in the sky, R'zaen felt much better about the thread fall. His thoughts had wandered with him. Panic striking at his heart about the conditions they would fly in, event hough the coniditions were flavourable he still worried for those who fly in the highest wing. From memory the first flight of threadfall in a pass always yielded a high injury and morality rate.

[A'dion]

Zevranth treaded air, powerful wings beating the air and keeping him aloft. He mentally ordered his wing to be on alert as the silvery spores made themselves known above them. They fell gracefully, deceitfully beautiful. A'dion too stared at them, remembering his Talaria. His Talaria. That sounded good. The kiss they had shared ... he would share another with her when this thread was over.

"You had better not die, and leave me with G'brel again."

Oh he wouldn't. Not with her to come back to.

Her later, us now. We're both too pretty to get threadscored today.

A'dion looked up to the silvery spores again ... and his eyes became steely,

"IT STARTS!" A chunk of firestone flew from A'dion's hand into Zevranth's waiting maw. The Bronze's eyes whirled red as he chewed, and his flame was the first of many as it seared the first clump of thread.

Dragons! Watch your wings and your riders! Let nothing get through! The Queen's Wing is a small wing, so lets do our best not to let any Thread meet her, yes?

A'dion rolled his eyes at his Dragon's desire to give everyone a pep talk.

[Alyx]

The youngest Weyrlings could only watch from a distance. Nerves got the best of a few - each was dealing with it in their own way. Cleise sat on the ground with her back set firmly against Angeth's smooth green side. Her arms pulled tight, the little greenrider held the Topaz gemtail against her like a life line. Kumbaker didn't seem to mind though, his little eyes half closed as he hung in the girl's grip. If the Gemtail felt anything related to the falling Thread, he didn't show it.

L'den and Myrth were with Cleise, the blue's slightly larger form resting off to the side of Angeth's brighter, pale green. The former harper was toying with his lute, strumming the strings and tuning the instrument in a effort to calm his growing nervousness. The normally hyper and chatty icy Blue was uncharacteristically silent, his body curled a little around the boy next to him. Torc, L'den's Bronze flit, laid draped over L'den's neck, sleeping deeply.

V'ktor couldn't sit still like his two friends though. The Brownrider weyrling paced back and forth like a caged feline; Shamath lay coiled near him, eyes tracking his rider's steps without blinking. 'You should rest.' The voice came... V'ktor barely batted a eyelash or cast a glance at the dragon. The black 'spot' between the Brown's headknobs moved as the Shamath dropped his head back to rest on his folded forlimbs. Crawling a little farther forward on the Brown's head, the spot became more noticably alive. Moxxen chattered softly, the Night Glider seeming more agitated then normal - if that was possible.

******

Wind whipped past the pair as they broke formation for a moment, spinning in a slow circle before returning to the position off to the left of the black form of Sabath. Rachel could feel the ache in her dragon, concern growing. 'You sure you will be good for this?' Aslith rumbled slightly, the vibration rolling up her feet and legs as she shifted her position on the Blue's back. 'I will manage. The muscles are simply sore; I can handle this.'

Rachel doubted it. The Blue had only been cleared a few days, and the Healers had only given in to Rachel's insistence because of the upcoming Fall. 'Thread in the Sky, Dragonriders Fly'. Aslith would not have remained on the ground, Rachel getting the Healer to clear him to fly was simply a formality - the Blue would have insisted on joining his Wing in the sky no matter if the Healer had allowed them or not.

'Just... let me know if it gets too much.' She could see A’zael and Navith off to her right side, A'dion and the Bronze shape of Zevranth out in front. Sabath's blackened form was above and head of them, with R'zaen on Brown Tanith and Green Metholith bearing Nix a little below and behind them on the left. More then enough Dragons in the skies - Rachel doubted any expected the Blue's wing to be strong enough to carry him threw the full Fall. Shards, they had seemed surprised enough when the Blue had rose with the Wing to face of the start as it was.

'I will manage.' Aslith's voice was stubborn, making Rachel's teeth snap against each other. Reaching forward, she slapped the side of the Blue's neck. Hard. 'I will NOT loose you to your damnable Pride, is that CLEAR, Old man?!' Aslith turned his head, fixing a eye on the woman seated on his shoulders. 'I will not push it too far, Mine. For you, I will be careful.'

She didn't reply, seeing A'zael moving his Blue up to Sabath's side. Reaching up, Rachel pulled the goggles down in one motion and dropped them over her eyes. Her heavy cloak was gone this run, in favor of more basic rider's gear. She hook a finger in one of the bags, yanking it open. Aslith's head snaked back as she tossed a few stones to him - priming the fires for the fight to come.

The call went out. Aslith surged forward with the others, roaring his challenge at the Threads. Rachel braced, trying to not dropping into the Blue's emotions as he winced in and out of Between; flames flared around them. She felt him turn, drop - then level out as he opened his jaws and belched a bloom of flames. The Thread clump shriveled and turned to gray ash that dropped harmlessly on the dragon and rider below them that hadn't realized how close the Thread had been above them.

'Warning with the dives next time.' 'My apologies, Lovely Mine - I was not thinking of you at that moment.' The Blue was happier in the air now then he had been in the past couple months. Rachel smiled as he turned his head, jaws gaping for more Stone. 'Well, try not to forget I'm up here, okay?' 'I would never do such a thing.' The humor was there as she tossed the rocks to the dragon, then leaned forward over his neck as he rose back to battle.

(sorry, a little long.)

[Sh'mal]

Ligeth craned his neck to turn a clump of Thread to char before it fell over his rider. The blue's leg had almost completely healed by this time, and the other injured dragons seemed to be recovered as well, from the looks of their movements. Sh'mal was glad; this was Western's first Threadfall and a crucial one. The results of this Fall would affect the spirit of the Weyr throughout the Pass.
Take caution, Mine, that you do not let your mind slip from the task at hand, Ligeth warned, catching another silver strand in a glorious burst of heat. Sh'mal leaned to the right as a second Thread passed dangerously close to his leg. Another dragon below caught it before it fell much farther. The bluerider relayed a brief thanks, then turned back to the Fall.



Ginta sat crosslegged at one of the lesser-used balconies staring at the sky. From this distance, he couldn't see dragons or Thread, but just knowing it was out there gave him chills. A warm tongue licked his chin. Ginta looked down briefly to see his loyal canine Toro sitting next to him. A small smile crossed the boy's face; only the canine ever saw him smile, nowadays. His eyes quickly returned to the sky. Some small part of him had to wonder: what would it have been like if G'ter had been fighting in this Fall too? He quickly suppressed the thought; it was still too painful to think of his father. So he kept his vigil, watching the sky for wounded dragons and riders.

[tealah]

The strain of tension was at the same time far greater, and far easier to cope with, than the hatching.

This was first Threadfall - there would be injuries, and most likely deaths. It was a surety. Therefore there was no uncertainty to cloud things, to make her apprehensive. Instead her whole being calmed and narrowed to a single focus that kept her slim body taut with readiness, her eyes trained on the sky over the Weyr as she waited for the first casualties to come in from the Fall.

Oh, you are so optimistic, Mya, I don't know how you can stand it, Stellath said mockingly from her position nearby.

Mya ignored the caustic tone fairly well, knowing that the gold's irritation came in part from a dragon's instinctive hatred of Thread and mostly from not being the center of attention. She'd spent enough time now with the dragon's mind and emotions so attached to her own that she was mostly used to her.

It was by virtue of her past training and a gold's natural ability to subdue other dragons that they were to be in the thick of things. All the young weyrling class was here to assist where needed, but it was a waste of resources to have a Journeyman healer fetching bandages and numbweed. No doubt she'd be getting her hands very dirty today.

You are doing it aga - Stellath threw her head up and froze mid-word. A deep rumble issued from her chest. They meet the Thread now.

Mya needed no warning to prepare herself, but she heard a young man near her make a somewhat strangled noise as his own brown presumably relayed the same thing. It took her a moment to place him, but the freckles on the little brown's face finally triggered recognition. Without his usually bouncing and cheer, the now-solemn Dradeth was almost unrecognizable. The Healer-dragonrider met his rider's bright blue eyes and forced what seemed like a reassuring smile, though Stellath commented acidly that the boy probably thought she was going to bite him. Mya mentally snorted at her in return. Ah, what did it matter if he froze at the sight of some blood? He was only a bandage-carrier anyway, someone else could just as easily take his place if he couldn't handle it. She turned her attention back to the skies instead.

*****

One of the few large bodies in the wings and stark black in a flight of glittering colors, Rayth stood out. Just the way he - and mostly D'ak - liked it. But today there would be no (or at least little) ambition, no jockeying for attention. D'ak's attention was like everyone else's focused on the horizon where Thread was due to appear any moment.

Rayth, on the other hand, was fidgeting anxiously. Although he managed to keep his place hovering in the wing, he kept turning his head to glance anxiously at the Queen's wing. Is Iroth going to be flying today? he asked for what had to be the fifth time since they'd gone aloft. I don't think it would be a good idea for her to fly today, do you? She could come to harm, and she is carrying our eggs. Is she flying today? Either his memory was worsened by anxiety, or he really wasn't aware he'd been asking the question. Either way, D'ak had to bite down sharply on his impatience.

Rayth, he answered in his mind, knowing that there was no point in wasting breath on words that couldn't be heard as they flew, PAY ATTENTION. They're counting on us to flame Thread, and Iroth would not thank you for worrying about her when you should be worrying about staying alive.

Sorry, the black answered with uncommon meekness, forcing his gaze back to the horizon just as a gray smudge appeared, quickly moving closer. Thread! he cried out in unison with several of the other dragons and riders. He turned his head automatically to receive the firestone D'ak was passing to him.

This is it, old man. D'ak's hands tightened imperceptively on the safety straps. What we've been training your whole life for. Are you ready?

As always Rayth retorted. Then all banter was gone in the dance of flaming and skipping between.