18A/N: My first venture into Pern! So be critical, but gentle :). Set in the 10th pass, but without the discovery of AIVAS, technological advances etc. If you find any problems don't hesitate to contact me…!
Disclaimer: Anne McCaffrey owns Pern and all canon characters. I own the OCs and the plot :)
Kallia, or 'Kally' as she was commonly called, cut the tubers deftly, though absent-mindedly, as she listened to the bubbly voices of children. During the past few minutes, the Weyrbrats had filed in and gathered in little clusters on the stony floor. Most of the Weyrbrats who lived at Ista were much younger than she was, and had more of a chance of Impressing. She was the daughter of a brownrider and a greenrider, neither of which had time for her, because of the simple fact they were dragonriders. The 10th Pass was only less than a Turn away, and Kally knew that if she hardly saw her parents now, when the Pass finally came she'd see even less of them. But, hardly seeing them wasn't a loss, as she actually scarcely knew them.
So, being a Weyrbrat, Kally had been destined to live out her life at the Weyr until she Impressed. The fact is, she never did. She was 25 Turns old and had attended at least one Hatching every year since she was fourteen. She then went to most Hatchings, but they were out of obligation, and she never got her hopes up of becoming a rider – she just didn't have the leadership and intuitive material that made a good dragonrider, simple as that. As a result, Kally spent her days at the Weyr helping out with petty chores and helping with the new candidates. Marriage was out of the question - she hadn't any great skills or beauty to make her someone important's wife, and she didn't want to live out her days as the wife of a burden-beast herder in the middle of nowhere when she could just stay here!
Kally wiped her hands on her clothes (which, she noted, needed a wash soon) and sat on a stray chair at the back of the room, facing the same way the other children were facing. Unlike them, she waited quietly. It was a rare time when the kitchens were unoccupied – it was mid-morning – when the drudges had cleaned up after breakfast but hadn't begun making lunch yet. There were a few servants around adhering to meal requests from hungry dragonriders, but besides that the kitchen was unusually quiet.
Kally turned her head when the small group of children began to cheer. "Story-man!" they cried with delight, and caused the drudges and Kally to clamp their hands over their ears to avoid permanent damage. But the old man who had entered was half-deaf, and he didn't mind the screaming at all. One of the children ran off and quickly returned with a chair for the old man. He sat down in front of them and folded his arms, a huge grin on his face.
Every sevenday, on a day he would advise, Hargal (or 'Story-man' as the children called him) would carry his weary bones down to the kitchens and tell the little Weyrbrats a tale from long ago – or sometimes, just the other day, as last week proved. Kally, with no peers to talk to and really nothing else to do, liked to join the children and listen to the old man's stories. Kally wondered how he could ever be cheerful again after the loss of his dragon 30 Turns ago. By the looks everyone gave him, she presumed they were wondering that too.
"What would you like to hear today?" Hargal asked the children, slightly leaning down so he could see them better. A few children shouted out suggestions but most of them shrugged. Hargal managed to spot Kally at the back of the room.
"Kallia, is that you all the way back there? Come closer so I can see you! That's better." He sighed. "Well, if none of you young people want to decide upon a tale today, I'll ask Kallia. Kallia, what would you like to hear?"
Kally smiled and looked at the children's expectant expressions. She bit her lip. "Moreta's Ride?" she asked. She laughed as half the children groaned.
"We've heard that one heaps of times!" one of them complained.
Kally put her head in her hand and rested her elbow on her shoulder in a thinking pose. "Well then…how about the tale of Lessa of Pern?"
"Yes!" said Hargal. "The tale of Lessa and how she brought - "
The children started mumbling again. Hargal looked at Kally with a 'help me' look but she shrugged her shoulders. Every other tale she could think of he'd already told them numerous times. The children were restless today and needed a new story.
Hargal suddenly snapped his fingers, and everyone turned to him. "I have a story to tell you."
Danorith, I'm so sorry.
It's…not…your fault.
It is, and I think…and he lost his words. It was either because of his rasping, sand-coated throat or foggy, tired mind or the blinding sandstorm. But the cause didn't matter. It was the result that –
He was suddenly fully alert as he began to drop. Danorith, pull up!
I…can't…
"Danorith!" he rasped out loud. If only we were anywhere, anytime but now!
And the pair crashed into the hot sands.
The children leaned forward in their seats. A new story! Even Kally was excited.
"And this one had been told through my family for generations! It is set in the Sixth Pass – and no, Renel, it was before Moreta's Ride. It is about a quite average dragonrider named M'nel and his bronze dragon. They resided at Ista Weyr, and fought Thread - "
The children exchanged glances. No-one in the room had ever seen Thread, and thought it incredible that in times past, people had seen it all the time.
" – one day when this story begins. Now, M'nel is said to have seen a small fleet of boats that we know as being transferred to the border that is shared by Igen's Thread-fighting area and Benden's. He was not injured, nor as tired as he usually was, so his Wingleader allowed him to stay while the west of the wing went between to the Weyr. The fleet was seven boats strong, and the men in the boats enjoyed watching the dragon fly over the boats and feel the sea spray. It was such a pleasant day that what happened was not expected at all. A huge storm came just after M'nel left for the Weyr. At first, the men were not worried. It was nothing they'd never done before.
"But then it started to get worse, more than they could handle. M'nel, now safely back at Ista, heard from his friend (a sweep rider, mind you) that near where the boats were on the border of Ista's ground, a gigantic storm had sprung up. He remarked how lucky it was that they weren't there, and that's when M'nel realised the boats would be in peril. He went out, first going between to where he'd first seen the boats, then following the fastest course along the coast to the boats' supposed destinations.
"After flying in the driving rain for what seemed like forever, he stumbled upon the fleet – now missing two boats. They were apart, and even as he got close one boat was smashed against the rocks and disintegrated. M'nel and his dragon managed to save a few of the drowning men, but most died under the crashing waves.
"M'nel stayed near the boats as they went on, rescuing drowning men from the sinking boats, constantly bespeaking others to let them know where he was. But, as we know, there is a lot of coastline, and it wasn't so distinguishable through the heavy storm. A few dragonriders popped up around the place, but in vain, as they couldn't see far and couldn't figure out where exactly their friend was.
"As more boats were ruined as the storm continued, there were but two boats left of the fleet, one of which contained the leader of the fleet, a man, who had foolishly allowed his pregnant wife to accompany him on what was thought to be a pleasant journey.
"As if by dumb luck, a dragonrider found M'nel, and popped up merely a few dragonlengths away. The rest of the men, by this time, had decided that the profit from the boats was not worth all this, and M'nel helped them onto the other dragonrider's dragon, and they blinked between to the Weyr for treatment.
"The only two who would not go was the man and his wife – the man intent on bringing at least one boat into port (without which, he would not gain enough money to support his Hold) and the woman, who did not want to fly on a dragon and could not go between when she was so heavily pregnant.
"So M'nel stayed with them, not wanting any harm to befall either the man or his wife. His dragon even picked the man up when he was unfortunate enough to fall beneath the waves! M'nel must've thanked Faranth for all she's worth when the storm simply…blew out. They made it to Asander Sea Hold almost dead, but they made it. The man and the woman thanked M'nel for staying with them, and the Hold offered him a place to stay for a while.
"Fearing reprimand from his Wingleader - " and at this Hargal changed his voice " – 'You're much better to everyone fighting Thread than being dead, M'nel' – he decided against staying at the Hold and began to fly home. Ready to wink between, M'nel found it took a while for his foggy mind to picture Ista.
"He had been flying for hours, trying to convince himself he could do it, when he realised then he couldn't. His dragon couldn't, either. They bespoke others, like they had done before, but the look of all sand dunes are the same to a confused man. In the Keroon desert, man and dragon simply disappeared."
He felt awful.
No. He felt worse than awful. He felt…his mind couldn't register other words.
He reached out to his dragon. Danorith…he managed.
Here, I'm right here. His dragon replied in soothing tones.
He had forgotten where he was, but the sand he was lying on was warm and soothed his aches. He had memories of being cold…then being too warm…but they were both okay, rested. Hungry and thirsty, but rested. His mind was becoming clearer, and everything hurt more. Dozens of thoughts circled in his brain, but one stood out above the rest.
We're…alive.
"He couldn't have just…disappeared!" an older boy complained. "There would have been dragonriders searching the area for him, and even if he hadn't survived, they would've found his rotting body, at least!"
A few of the younger ones cringed at the mental image of a decaying corpse in the sand. Hargal gave the boy a glance. "Well, if you'd let me finish…they never actually found him. He found them.
"Many a sevenday since everyone assumed M'nel had died, and even more since he'd first disappeared, he came back. He strolled into Ista, not a grain of sand on him. M'nel and his dragon looked fresh and healthy…the rest of Ista couldn't believe that he was alive."
"So?" asked the same impatient boy. "Where was he all that time?"
"That's the interesting part. Nobody ever found out. When he was questioned about it, he'd draw a blank look and say he didn't know. He said the first thing he remembered after he'd crashed onto the sands was waking up in a cave and then he…flew back.
Hargal shrugged. "Of course, with him going so long without food or water there was no way he could have survived in the baking desert for that long, let alone have not a speck of sand on him, and looking fully refreshed."
"What do you think happened?" asked Kally, intrigued.
The old man looked up at her and smiled in the most curious way – a way that made Kally question how much Hargal actually knew.
"Nobody knows for sure," he said to her with that same grin.
Kally barely noticed when the children began their chatter again (mostly about the story) as they moved on to whatever else they had planned for the day. She knew Hargal had looked at her again, but soon left when the drudges started entering to make lunch for the Weyrfolk.
That night, Kally dreamed of a daring bronzerider braving a fierce storm, intertwined with Hargal's words – Nobody knows for sure.
If you've read this far, Thank-you, and please tell me what you think as I'd love to get some feedback!