Deadly Skies (THREADFALL. ATTN: All!)

Br'son adjusted his seat, feeling the creak of the leather fighting straps as he settled into place atop Yllaveth's neck.  He'd already checked and rechecked his flamethrower, and knew that it was ready to go.  It had been awhile, but he thought that he was as ready as he could be.  

It will be good to fly against Thread again today, Yllaveth said into his mind.  Her mind-tone held a note of savage excitement, and the red of Thread-rage had already begun to swirl in her faceted eyes.  It has been a long time.

So it has, Br'son said as he fiddled with the loose end of his strap, trying to tuck it away so that it wouldn't slap against Yllaveth's hide in the wind of flight.  We did have rather more pressing concerns to deal with for a while.  A large part of him wished that he could stay back, keep the wings back again today and let the grubs deal with whatever damage was done.  But Thread would fall today over Tarza Hold, and so the Weyr would rise to hold its end of the bargain they'd made.  

At least they'd practiced.  He and Aliseth and Eniseth had flown patterns consistently for months, sometimes using actual flame against colored ropes.  Flying in a Queens' Wing was tricky, given the unpredictable winds down low, and the irregular presentation of Thread that got through the upper wings.  They'd have a pair of quartzes to guard their backs today, but that was it.  Every other flaming dragon was required above.  Only the youngest weyrlings and the injured remained at home for this flight.  Even the older class had been pressed into service ferrying firestone.

Not for the first time, Br'son let his eyes slide to Sidran, where she sat atop Gaveth's neck and oversaw the last of the preparations.  "Yllaveth..." he said out loud.  

Keep yourself and your rider safe, please, Yllaveth said to Gaveth. He would grieve if anything were to happen to either of you.

There will be no need for grief, Gaveth replied, the intense focus of him pre-Fall evident in his tone. You be safe as well. This does not work, without you. There was no hint of flirtation or compliment in his tone - to Gaveth, this was pure truth.

Sidran kept her hand where neckridge met back, feeling her cobalt's warmth as the rock-solid reassurance of the rightness of what they were about to do. She looked over the assembling wings, her gaze pausing over the three queens, and let herself take just a moment to wish they had twice as money. Soon, if the shadows had anything to do with it (her thoughts skipped away from the idea of Yllaveth rising; a terrible idea to give Gaveth any cause for distraction just now). A few moments, for her few Wingleaders to get in place, and she would give the signal for launch, Gaveth giving each wingleader's dragon their coordinates to come out over Tarza.

A few moments, and they would fly Fall again.

***
Aliseth held still only by E'zen's supreme effort. The shadow felt the energy around them, the tension and readiness, and wanted to pace, to snarl, to stalk. But they held in their position, ready to take flight, and E'zen had no chance to be nervous, not in the midst of the roil of Aliseth's flooding ferocity.

Her only disappointment, truth be told, was that Thread didn't bleed when killed.

***
Nimath's tail lashed, and the touch of her mind in his was pure eagerness. H'den restrained a wild grin, leaned forward to stroke his scarlet's warmly red hide. They liked having the queens back with them again; a slice of normality, a heightening of tension, a steady anchor all at once.

I am ready. The brawny brown spoke to his rider as Sh'lor checked his harness one more time. It was not unlike him to double or even triple check his things before heading out to fight Thread. After meeting the Holders at the Hatching, he thought it was a good idea to have a reciprocal relationship with them. Tithes would be needed especially if the Queens continued to throw clutches with so many larger dragons.

It did feel good to be back up in the skies. This was what he was meant to do, it was what he always knew he would be doing. Imioth managed to get into formation without issue. This was different from their wing at Eastern it would take some getting used to. Especially given that there were going to be some riders who would rather see him burn than help him.


Kyabree paced, adrenaline rising as she thought about Threadfall. It didn't take her long to have Nwynth strapped properly. Before long the scarlet and her rider were aloft and with their Wing.

The scarlet reached out to Vorganth and Anarath, Kyabree wishes to tell your riders that she loves them and that she will see them when this is over. Good luck.


((adding more people later))

Casriel cut and imposing figure on her Cobalt's neck, Maraxith dark against the sky and his eyes whirled a maelstrom of red and orange. As hard as she looked, face stony in a frown of concentration, she caressed the neck of her great, dark beast. Maraxith rumbled and parted his jaws to show his teeth as he gazed skyward.

Keep sharp watch and protect each other. Protect Pern! Maraxith told his Wing and Casriel looked at her assembled Wingriders in turn to meet their eyes. She would slap them on the back and drink with them once the day's work was done and would hope that they all made it back.

E'ret met his Wingleader's fair eyes with his own gray ones and Itzelbith rumbled a wordless response to Maraxith. The Quartzrider was ready, his legs shaking only the smallest bit. Not from fear though that was always a near thing in the back of a Dragonrider's mind but rather the tension that came dancing nervously before a battle.

I am with you. You are with me. Together we will ride the wind, protecting Weyr and Hold. Worry not, we are together. Itzelbith's voice was like cool, fresh water over his fiery nerves. E'ret breathed slowly, calming his heart.  

---------------------
Ashrah looked at her assembled Bright Hope class, her eyes going to their fastenings as she prepared them for firestone ferrying. They all stood with Br'son, making up the bulk of the Queen's Wing. Ashrah knew Brielody would be there soon.

It was earlier than she liked. In fact, she did not like it. The Weyrling Master had at a lost for the space of a moment after being told her elder Weyrlings would have to bring firestone to the fighting adult dragons.

'They have had good training. They are all on target. They have to learn someday and need calls them today.'

"Bright Hope! Your duty today will be to bring Firestone to fighting dragons. This is not a drill. Adult dragons will have live fire and this is real Thread. Keep your visualizations clear while going Between and Faranth watch over you. Get in, make the drop and get out. Hesriath and I will be with you." the Weyrling Master's voice was calm and strong as she address the older Weyrling.

We will be the wings that brings the fuel. We will be the ones that bring the fire. Give them fuel, give them fire, give them that which they desire. Hesriath rumbled. Then, to the bronze dragon Manticath, the scarlet added.

Keep safe both you and your rider. Hesriath breathed softly. Ashrah's green eyes went from her Weyrlings toward were Z'ash and Manticath would be, with Weyrleader Sidran's wing. She bit the inside her cheek but said nothing. Her son would do well on high altitude. He was the best parts of her and his father.

Emanoth turned his head back to Asteriel and she stroked his muzzled, marveling at how large he had gotten in such a short amount of time.

Here we go, love. You and me against the Enemy. Asteriel said and she tried to smile bravely. Emanoth rumbled deep in his smoke glazed throat.

You are scared but don't be. We will laugh defiance in the Enemy's face and we will burn it to harmless ash. Besides, we are on the Queen's Wing. We are no were near where the actual action will be happening. and Emanoth's eyes twinkled with laughter.

I am ready. Finnedath said as M'drist settled himself deep into his brown's saddle. M'drist noted the steady and solid way the brown had breathed those three words and felt the strength of them in his mind. Yes, they were ready.

"Be careful out there, M'dian." M'drist told his brother and nodded. Finnedath turned his head to reach out and bump M'drists quartz dragon with his nose, rumbling softly his encouragement.

"Don't do anything stupid." he added.
---------------------------------

Manticath craned his neck back to look in Hesriath's direction and rumbled back at the Scarlet dragon.

This is hardly our first flight! I am not intimidated by Thread and neither is Z'ash. You concern is appreciated Hesriath but worry more for your weyrlings.

Z'ash sighed and rubbed his temples. Well, rubbed at what he could reach under his helmet.

You shouldn't be so flip with Hesriath, Manticath. She only worries because Ashrah worries. Z'ash told his bronze dragon. Manticath snorted and turning his head back, tossed it loftily.

Hesriath's rider might have clutched you but Hesriath did not clutch me. I'll take my safeguard advice from Gaveth because I have to and Yllaveth because she is senior queen. I will bend to the will of Eniseth and even Aliseth, if she requires it of me. Klaroth, Ohanith and Zillath are newly hatched but I would give Klaroth some mind if she required it. She is a Titanium, after all. In essence, a scarlet is brown and not a dragon I take my orders from. the bronze's arrogant tone grew a little tight. Z'ash patted his dragon's neck but his answer was firm.

You'll answer to a brown dragon if Imioth or Treyath catch Yllaveth. You'll answer and you'll answer with respect. There are a proper way to do things and you can't just pick and choose at tradition when it doesn't suit you. the young bronze rider replied.

Manticath sobered a little before responding.

Imioth and Treyath are fine browns. I have no quarrel with them. I don't think a brown could catch Yllaveth, no matter his size. Especially not with a sky full of cobalts and bronzes. As for the Citrine and the Tungsten...well that remains to be seen.

So it does but first, Thread. Z'ash said looking up at the boiling sky.

Anarath heard Nwynth and responded with a soft voice. I will tell my rider. Fly swift and sure, Nwynth. Vorganth, destroy the enemy and return to your scarlets.

V'tayn looked at his dragon. "What is said?" Anarath rumbled and shifted under her rider's weight.

Nwynth says her rider wishes us good luck and says we will see each other when Fall is over. I told Vorganth to come home to Nwynth and I. You love their riders very much. We will be very careful, my love.

"Yes." he said, answering all those statements in one word.

Weyrsinger T'kal sat astride his blue dragon Thortoth and breathed in the firestone and dragon musk rich air. Despite the ribbon of fear that was trying to worm it's way through his mind, his heart was aflame with the bright fire of battle joy. Thortoth was no different and the blue seemed to dance in place, eager to be skybound and flaming.

Remember to pace yourself. You're big but let the browns and cobalts go the longer distances. T'kal cautioned the excited blue dragon. Thortoth shook his head.

I know, T'kal. I will not over strain myself today. I cannot have you beside yourself and unable to play tonight, when the tired and weary will need your words and music to balm their spirits.

"So noted." T'kal replied.

The last of the wings settled in, and Sidran took a deep, cleansing breath. It wasn't their first Fall from the canyon, nor over Tarza, but it was the first with the queens, and with their weyrlings.

Gaveth shifted, once, and she held up her hand. A moment, two, she dropped it, and the wings rose.

Time for them to get arranged, and then Gaveth sent the coordinates, and the count.

And then they were all gone, to reappear over their one dedicated Hold. It was time.


***
Aliseth followed, as much as she ever did. For once her energy and push were focused somewhere...somewhere she could actually unleash it. Despite what should be tension, it was actually a bit of a reassurance to E'zen.

Yllaveth had passed on the coordinates to her wing, then had followed her mate between.  

When they emerged into the thick, warm humidity over the proper location, the Titanium queen sent a message to her wing.  Wide spread for this first pass.  Let the wings take their places.  Learn the ground references, and let us test the air currents.  Remember, winds change drastically and without warning down low.  Trust your riders.  Trust me.  It is nearly time to flame.  

Br'son checked and re-checked his flamethrower tank.  Ready to go.  As Yllaveth's wings beat out a strong, sure rhythm, he glanced overhead to see the higher-level wings dispersing according to Sidran's plans.  On the horizon, an ominous grey cloud threatened.  As he watched, it got closer and closer.  

Thread was upon them.  Time to flame indeed.

Jah'vi didn't have to turn to know his wing had held position perfectly between, one of the perks of being fastidious to a fault. He could almost feel the beats of the wings behind him.

Nolinth turned, maw open for firestone. Using his left hand to mechanically toss the bronze the stone, Jah'vi kept his eyes on the growing gray cloud moving to them.

Finished for now, Nolinth returned his gaze to the front, a deep rumbling rising from his chest in response to the threat coming their way. He practically thrummed with excitement, ready to attack. The attitude was infectious, and Jah'vi found himself leaning forward.

* * *

Teagan resettled her flamethrower, trying to find the sweet spot where it wasn't too heavy against her shoulder. There, she thought, focusing on double checking the tanks and trying not to stare at the coming grayness.

You are not afraid, Ensieth said firmly, causing her eyes to snap up. We will destroy it.

That fierceness that she shared with her sister came through, and Teagan felt the adrenaline rush through her body. Too young, for now, for many things. But she would prove today that she could destroy Thread as throughly as the next dragon rider.

Filioth flamed, and Cosenne laughed out loud, feeling the wind of flight rip the sound from her lips before she could even hear it. Her cobalt's deep satisfaction at the violence of burning Thread from the sky reverberated through her, leaving a deep, almost sensual satisfaction in its wake. She glanced over her shoulder, checking their position in the wings. Ahead, more deadly silver rain began to unravel and fall in tangled ribbons. Fillioth stroked his wings against the sky and they surged after it, reveling in the art of violence.

***

Lolath flamed, and Siona gripped her straps a bit tighter as the lithe quartz executed a wingtip turn mid-firestorm. This little trick managed to clear two clumps at once, which was good, because they'd been threatening the unprotected flank of the cobalt dragon just below them. Lolath beat her wings for just a second, and then skipped between back to her position in their wing. So far, so good.

***

M'dian gripped the edge of his firestone sack, ready to toss it to the first dragon he saw who signalled a need for more. Gideath danced on the air below him, M'dian's excitement tangling with his own in a rhythm that was neverending.

Teagan kept her eyes trained upwards, her heart pounding in her chest. As the lowest of the wings, the Queens were the last group for missed Thread to reach.

They she saw it, the tangle of silver that had been missed. She could tell this was her catch, centered almost directly in her zone, and she readied her flamethrower.

Hold on, Ensieth warned her before banking right, turning just in time for Teagan to let the flame luck from the end of the long tube. The silver clumplated immediately turned black and charred, and she felt her heart swoop even as the wind blew some of the black char into her face.

She waved reassuringly at Br'son and E'zen, a huge grin in her face. Ensieth rumbled underneath her, just as excited and proud of her tiny rider.

* * *

Jah'vi whipped at his goggles with a dirty glove, barely making any dent in the mess. He'd gotten a face full of ash early on, not having ducked fast enough. Luckily Nolinth had skipped between quickly, soothing the slight burning.

Ash was better than Thread, he thought wryly. Feeling the power between his legs as Nolinth erupted into another blast of flame. He reached into his firestone bag, tossing the rock to Nolinth who snapped it out of the air and made quick work of it.

And then they were flaming again, and Jah'vi refocused on making sure his wing was still in formation.

Gaveth signaled for more stone. Halfway through now, they'd be past Tarza's territory before too long. The winds twisted, but it was steady enough.

Continue to fly well, and all would be well.

The best a Weyrleader could hope for was an uneventful Fall. Sidran didn't let herself think that thought, being just superstitious enough to know better, buuuuut...


***
Tsaveth turned, dove a bit and just caught a clump before it would have dropped into the queen's wing's airspace. His savage satisfaction as he moved back into formation made N'set grin - or snarl? - under his mask.

Fillioth turned his head back to his rider, demanding more 'stone. Cosenne was only too happy to comply, and she hurled the last chunk into the cobalt's maw with force born of combat adrenaline. Fillioth snapped his jaws shut and turned back to the front, just in time for their wing to perform a cross-over maneuver with Maraxith's wing.

Cosenne was about to have Fillioth call for more 'stone when a scream pierced even the roaring of their flight wind. Cosenne looked wildly around, and finally saw a scarlet dragon, falling with one wing shredded.

I have her, Fillioth said, folding his wings and arrowing to try and catch the wounded pair.

We're covering Fillioth. We're closest, a voice responded. Cosenne didn't recognize it immediately, which meant that it was probably someone in Casriel's wing. Impressive, but she couldn't help but wonder how the Wingleader would feel about one of her dragons leaving the formation for such a reason.

Fillioth ended up having to flame his way down to the scarlet. Cosenne was frankly surprised that the poor dragon was still alive. Tough girl, she was, and her rider, too. As their impromptu wingman provided covering flame, they angled up under the falling scarlet to perform the catch on the back half of Fillioth's long, lean frame.

We will accompany you back, to make sure you make it, brown Basilath told Fillioth, just as Cosenne recognized the tone. She pumped her fist in acknowledgement and thanks, and settled the coordinates in her mind.

Together, the three of them jumped between to safety. In the cold darkness, Cosenne promised herself that she would buy D'caen a drink. She owed him, after this. Thread had been so thick, she and Fillioth would not have made it to the injured scarlet without their help.

Sidran cursed to herself, but Gaveth noted they'd made it back safely.

Superstitious, indeed. She bit down on her lip, refocused herself and her cobalt (he needed no refocusing, but all the same), and reordered the wing to make up for Fillioth's loss. They were short enough to begin with that a cobalt out necessitated an entire new formation.

***
Aliseth stiffened underneath him, and E'zen looked around, but it took a moment to make sense of anything.

A cobalt and a brown, working together, a scarlet caught (Aliseth, after a moment, supplied the names), and clearly Aliseth took the wounding of any of her dragons - and they were all, suddenly, hers - personally.

Somehow the shadow's mind darkened, and the rage against Thread became, irrevocably, personal. A war, and her rider had best focus entirely to handle it.

Basilath and D'caen stayed aloft, watching to be sure that Fillioth had no trouble setting down with his burden. Then they winked between back to the fight...

And Flame! Pain blossomed over their left side. Basilath immediately ducked back into the blessed nothingness of between and then out again. D'caen tried to force his thoughts to focus. Which of them was hurt?

When they emerged into clear air, the pain was gone, replaced by a steady burn that hurt, but could be handled. Thin lines of superficial scoring traced down the side of Basilath's neck and over the calf of D'caen's right leg. It stung, but not badly enough to leave the fight. Especially not now.

Maraxith, Basilath reported as he stroked his wings to return to his spot in the formation. Basilath returns, blooded but unbowed.

R'fariel had checked Vorganth's straps three times and joined his wing before many of his fellows were ready.  It was his normal ritual for Threadfall-- unlike practices, 'Falls weren't anything to mess around with.  If nothing else, his wingleader should have at least been aware that he took them seriously, even if he allowed his immaturity to show at other times.

Vorganth, for his part, was focused, ready, waiting for firestone and the chance to smite Thread.  This was one of the things he did best, and he was ready to prove it once again.

Mine agrees-- when this is over, we will celebrate, the cobalt replied to Nwynth and Anarath.  And your riders know how he feels.  Of his own affections, Vorganth sent a wordless flood of confidence/ possessive agreement-- he would, indeed, return to both of his scarlets.  There was no question of that.

------------

Though far more feral on the ground, Vorganth was all sharp, intense focus as he went through the motions of firestone-chew-flame-ash.  His gaze missed nothing, his turns and jumps between precise and controlled.

A well-matched pair, he and R'fariel worked together as if they'd never done anything else.  And if Raf let out a whoop of satisfaction at a job well done when clumps of Thread fell to their skill, well, could anyone blame him?

>>>>>>>>>>

Alannah checked Fiammath's straps-- what she could reach of them while mounted on her scarlet's neck, anyway-- again as they waited for the Weyrleader's signal.  It wouldn't hurt, at any rate, and it gave her something to do besides worry.  At least for a moment.

Fiammath shifted slightly beneath her rider's ministrations, impatient.  Fighting Thread was her job, and she knew she did it well.  And no matter Allie's reservations, she wouldn't let anything happen to her rider-- this wasn't their first time flying 'Fall, and it wouldn't be the last.  They would be fine.

------------

Too close! Allie cried as they skittered between to avoid a tangle someone else had missed.

It was easily avoided.  More stone, less worrying, Fiammath ordered.

Yes, yes...

>>>>>>>>>>

Treyath's impulsiveness might have cost them in the past, but J'ril was forcefully tamping down on his brown's will.  He knew Threadfall wasn't the place to allow his dragon's competitive nature to show, and prove they were better than the mutants-- at least for today.

Some other time, maybe.

But not today.

------------

Then again, flaming Thread was one of the best places to let his anger and resentment have free reign.  Especially when J'ril caught sight of N'set.  A bit of 'friendly' competition wouldn't hurt… would it?

>>>>>>>>>>

Revel stroked Sanovith's neck as they waited for further instructions from Hesriath.  Firestone ferrying was one of the most dangerous jobs to do during Threadfall-- the only saving grace was that the weyrlings were meant to get in there quickly, and get right back out.  Visualization was key, so they didn't come in on top of a flaming dragonpair, or strand of  Thread.

But the smokerider knew things didn't always go the way they planned.  And she and Sanovith would have to be extra vigilant to make sure they, and their classmates, remained safe.

------------

Waiting for their turn to join the fray, Sanovith quietly observed the wings from their far-off vantage point.  It was one thing to practice, to pretend, but it was another to watch the real thing, and real wings in action.  The smoke was good at watching, at filing away the information for later.  And it would be put to good use when the time came.

>>>>>>>>>>

Jemma didn't have anywhere near Revel's level of confidence.  Oh, she knew she could visualize well enough-- that part had been fairly easy, given her eye for minor details.  But thinking about jumping into Threadfall, in the middle of the active wings, made her nervous.  Things could go so horribly wrong, and she didn't want anyone to get hurt.

My rider asks each of you to be extra careful.  Stay safe and keep your eyes open! Azareth relayed to each of their classmates, infusing the request with all the warmth she and Jemma felt for their friends.

------------

Jemma was glad she wasn't in line to run firestone in first, though she watched everything with wide eyes.  It was a lot to take in-- Thread, the dance of the wings as they followed it, the cries of dragons as they flamed or were scored.  It was almost too much.

Azareth crooned reassurance-- this was what they had trained for, wasn't it?  They could do it.  They would be fine.

L'thyr saw Alannah dip Between and urged Osgilath forward to sear the menace from the sky. There were flying so fast, surely they could reach before it fell out of their altitude. Osgilath charged, flaming. He caught half of the tangle of thread but a sudden updraft of wind rolled out of his blast range and threw the young cobalt off his angle. The ragged half tangle of Thread draped itself in slow motion, to L'thyrs horror, across Osgilath's right, lower wing membrane and across his rider's right leg.

Osgilath's shriek and L'thyrs scream were one.

Nolinth! the cobalt cried as he fell. Thread ate wing membrane in frightening speed, melting away the delicate blue-black tissue. The wing pressed L'thyr to the back of his dragon, white eyed with the pain and aware that his leg was pouring blood.

The courtyard near the weyrling barracks. See it, Osgilath. Jump! L'thyr commanded and his lip spit at his bit it, frantic to make the image clear. Osgilath jumped Between.

To Nothing.
***************

Maraxith's battle cry broke off abruptly to a bone chilling keen and Casriel blinked his surprise, turning half in her saddle to check her Wing. Everyone was still in position. A wave of deep sadness washed over her and her heart sank.

Osgilath and his rider are gone. Maraxith groaned. Casriel knew Osgilath and L'thyr, they were of Parazath's and Maraxith's last clutch.

'Oh no.' Casriel sighed. Yet, Threadfall had no time for tears. Sorrow would have to come later.

The scream of cobalt and rider went straight down Jah'vis' spine, as Nolinth whipped around just in time to see the pair falling.

Treyath, Tsaveth! the bronze shouted commands to the two larger dragons, already angling himself to 'catch' the falling pair. We have you Osigilath! Nolinth said frantically, and Jah'vi felt his chest clutch painfully at the sudden blast of coldness as the pair went *between*.

Nolinth.... he began, right as the bronze let out a mourning keen. He closed his eyes for a moment and cursed loudly, the sound muffled by his jacket and the wind. Not L'thyr... so much promise and possibility, snuffed out in a moment.

Readjust to pattern three, he told Nolinth, the pair hopping *between* back to their position. Nolinth roared and flamed a patch of Thread as he passed through command on to the rest of the wings, eyes whirling a furious red.

Mourn afterwarda, he told himself, reminding himself of his father's oft spoken words. He could still feel dampness behind his goggles as the rest of the wing adjusted behind him, though.

Hesriath! Account Bright Hope! Ashrah commanded as the dragon keen split the ash ridden air. The scarlet reached out  to her rider quickly, eyes whirling the hot yellow of anxiety.

All Bright Hope accounted for. It was Osgilath and his rider.

Hesriath's own keen overtook her then and Ashrah dropped her head. So young, L'thyr and his cobalt. Of the same clutch as Z'ash and his bronze Manticath. L'thyr had been barely Z'ashs senior.

'Damnation, shells and shards.' she thought, dashing tears form her eyes.

Keep with one another. No risks. Stay focused. Hesriath told the entire Bright Hope weyrlings. Indeed, her broadcast was so strong and heartfelt it might have gone out to the entire Queen's Wing.
---------------------

T'kal swallowed hard as Thoroth cried out, his keen shrill in the churning air and blasting heat. It could hardly be expected to have no deaths with so few dragonriders present but for it to be a dragonpair so young. It cut at the heart. The Weyrsinger felt his heart grow heavy in his chest and his blue dragon sighed deeply in response.

Head up, Thortoth. There is still much Fall to fight. T'kal said gently.

The blue straightened and angling for a small clump of Thread, opened his jaws wide. Flame erupted red and amber orange, blasting the clump apart and fire ate up the dangerous strands. He might be a blue dragon but Thortoth roared with all the ferocity of his larger brothers, his eyes whirling scarlet and crimson. He twisted quickly and caught another series of strands, the Threads withering at the touch of his fire. T'kal leaned forward on his blue's neck, his love outpouring for the way the dragon fought through his sadness with such passion. They had always been so well matched.

You may cut down one of us but fifty will rise up to defend Pern. Quartz, Green, Blue, Brown, Scarlet, Smoke, Cobalt, Bronze, Citrine, Tungsten, Shadow and Titanium! We all fly against you and we will wipe you from our skies Thortoth bellowed, broadcasting as far as he could and flaming all the while.

This fall as different for them. Brielody had always been part of a regular fighting wing until now. As Candidatemaster she was placed under Br’son in the Queen’s Wing as it were. So they flew lower and went after those threads that others missed. While the queenriders had to use flamethrowers, Aurayath was perfectly capable of flaming.

Aurayath was glad to help wherever they were but it took a few minutes for them to really find their stride here in this wing. Once they had, Aurayath was using her skills to move through the air as only greens did. Her agility was not to be underestimated. No matter how close they seemed to be to getting scored the green always managed to maneuver herself quickly out of the way.

They were being kept busy which seemed rather unfortunate. More dragons would make the Queen’s Wing less so and also less likely to be injured or worse.


As Nwynth keened the loss of her fallen clutchmate, Kyabree was distracted by her own emotions, Tears falling freely from her eyes she took a moment to re-focus and in that moment, bad things happened. Nwynth backwinged suddenly, avoiding a large clump of Thread., causing her rider to lose balance before regaining it again. Kyabree found herself suddenly shrieking in pain, Nwynth. Between back to formation… She steadied her mind, her thigh burned even as they left Between but the clump of Thread was dead and they were alive.

Her attention was refocused. Nwynth was seething. Thread would die. All of it.

Sh’lor didn’t know the young cobalt rider who was lost well but it was always a sad day to lose a dragon. Especially one so young. Even if he wasn’t fond of cobalts or their riders (honestly the riders were often worse) he did not wish them dead. Imioth’s powerful wings thrust them forward flaming a clump of thread in the process. There were no fancy antics coming from them. They were here to do their job and it would be done with patience, focus and fortitude. Sh’lor had been injured in Fall before. He wasn’t about to allow that to happen again. Nothing would sway his determination to sear as many Threads as possible from the sky.

N'set's fierce intensity darkened, with that echoing loss. Another cobalt, a wingmate. Bloody shards and spored between. Tsaveth steadied, back in formation.

And fall continued.

***
Loss never sat lightly, but it carried a different weight for Sidran now. Not just as Weyrleader (but yes, very much as that) where responsibility for all wings, all dragons lived, ultimately, with her. But when their numbers were already less than a hundred, any loss felt doubled. More than.

She put it in a box in the back of her head - for later, not now, never now with Thread still ahead - and managed not to wince at Thortoth's rallying cry.

Yes, the massed wings would fight, but they could afford none to fall.

The end of this Fall was near, the trailing edge visible now, a less sinister brightness through the shining webs of deadly Thread. But there were Falls and Falls after this. A handful of Turns in the Pass...and more than handfuls of Falls ahead.

No. Later. She'd think about it once they were all safely home.

Osgilath! Yllaveth cried into Br'son's mind, even as she let loose with the horrific keen of sorrow that all dragonriders knew... and dreaded. Br'son felt a catch in his breath. Osgilath, L'thyr. So young, so full of fire and promise...

And then another clump flashed in front of them, and Br'son hit the button on his flamethrower as Yllaveth banked them into position to burn it. Burn it to ash.

L'thyr

***

Lolath's wings ached. Her mind ached from the fatigue of Fall, and the sorrow of Osgilath's loss. She opened her mouth to flame a swath through a thick curtain of Thread, and then skipped between to emerge on the other side. They'd come in halfway through the Fall, and Siona and Lolath both felt that the end couldn't be far away. The quartz whipped her head back to her rider in a mute appeal for more 'stone. Siona complied, slinging several large rocks into her dragon's mouth before Lolath turned back to the front, grinding the rock down with her teeth, preparing to flame and flame again.

Until it was gone.

Because that was what dragons did.

Teagan swallowed hard past a lump in her throat, knowing what that noise meant. Her eyes drifted further upwards, wondering morbidly if she would see where the lost dragon had disappeared from. But the upper wings looked the same, though with a lot more flame and darting.

TEAGAN! a sharp voice rang in her head, so loud her ears rang, and her attention was suddenly on the clump of Thread coming directly down at her.

She barely thought the command, it was second nature now; Ensieth hopped *between*, emerging down and behind from where they'd been. Immediately her flamethrower activated, and the flame engulfed the patch that had threatened them moments before.

From the way Ensieth growled, she had a feeling that should have scared her. But there wasn't space in her head for that. Br'son had warned them that they'd be vulnerable, with so few fighting dragons above them, and while they had to keep their hides intact it was still their duty to make sure no Thread got to the ground below them.

As if on cue, another clump came through, and Ensieth banked sharply left to give Teagan a clean shot at it. All thoughts of death, danger, and injury were replaced with Br'son and Ashrah and their words, their training.

... And like that, it was over.  

Br'son looked down and realized that the terrain flowing beneath them had changed from the rugged jungle foothills of Tarza Hold territory to the sparse, barren cliffsides of the Southern Barrier Range.  He twisted in his straps to look behind them and saw nothing but clear skies.  The deadly rain ahead couldn't hurt anyone, and would die out after having fallen on rocks and ice.  If, by chance, any of the Threads did make it to the lush jungle floor, they'd quickly be consumed by the voracious grubs that inhabited this continent.  

So.  Fall was over.  They were safe.  For now.  

Exhaustion hit Br'son like a brick, and he blinked and scrubbed his sleeve over his misted up goggles.  

Let's head down to Tarza, he said to Yllaveth.  I should have a word with Gavana, for politeness sake if nothing else...

No.

Br'son blinked again.  

What?

No, my beloved.  I cannot.  Eniseth and Aliseth may go.  I must return home, and you with me.

Br'son felt the blood drain from his face.  

Bloody Shells, now, sweet girl?

I have waited as long as I can.  The Weyr needs this.  Now is the best time.  But we must go NOW.

Left with little option, Br'son began to laugh. He shook his head and fixed the coordinates of their canyon home in his mind's eye.  What else could he do?  

So be it, my only love, he said.  But first, pass my instructions on...

Aliseth, you and Eniseth land at Tarza and be sure they have whatever help they need.  Take Bright Hope with you, and Hesriath if she wants.  Gaveth.  Get the males back to the Weyr immediately.  I will not answer for my frame of mind when we arrive there.  Any who are injured are instructed to stay far from the feeding grounds for now.  I regret the necessity, but it is imperative.  I have held off as long as I can.  This is happening now.


And on that note, Queen Yllaveth of White Lightning Weyr blinked between, back to her home and the blood-filled prey that awaited her there.

Aliseth considered - not the order, but the odd shift and bend of the senior's mind. Amused, she agreed, but even her wings paused (ever so slightly) at the earth-shattering roar of Gaveth.

Gaveth, who had just rather flawlessly flown and led Fall. Underwinged, minimal casualities.

Gaveth, who knew himself as the most dominant cobalt.

Gaveth, who had utter, unshakable faith in the superiority of his rider.

Gaveth, who had just been betrayed by the same rider.

He sent the male dragons home, and made clear what business was ahead, but the white heat of his rage bled through, a near-tangible thing.

He, it seemed, would not be following.

Sidran, resolute, wished Br'son a safe flight, pushed thoughts of the night they'd spent together after the feast out of her head, and signaled for the quartzes, greens, and scarlets to follow her for sweeps.

She'd get them, at least, back before the end of the flight, though she knew she and Gaveth would stay out quite a bit longer.

Until it was safe.

We are to land at Tarza, and handle after Fall with Aliseth, Ensieth told her, just as the young queenrider had realized that the Fall was over.

Does Br'son need us? she asked, confused. It was the Weyrseniors duty to converse with the Hold leaders, and she didn't think the juniors were needed. Had they done something wrong?

No, Ensieth said, succinctly, as Teagan looked at her Wingleader and caught her breath. Yvalleth was practically shimmering, and the roars from the male dragons made it quite clear what was happening.

She pictured the court yard of Tarza, a blush rising in her cheeks. The cold of *between* had her thinking less of what would soon be happening at the Weyr, and she fought to think of other things as she slid off Ensieths neck fluidly.

Removing the flamethrower actually made her groan; she hadn't realized how badly it was digging into her side until now. She'd have bruises later, for certain. She pulled off her helmet and goggles, unfastened the top of her jacket so she could roll the collar down and finally get a good breathe of air.

Then she was very, very dizzy. She stood still for a moment, her mouth watering in warning, and then she made a desperate lurch for Ensieth, hoping to make it to the other side of her dragon before...

And then she was vomiting violently, clutching the shadow dragon to remain on her feet. She had eaten lightly, but her stomach didn't seem to care and kept heaving dryly.

Oh Faranths, someone had DIED. Another wave of nausea hit her and she was on her knees, eyes prickling with tears as her stomach tried to force it's way out of her mouth.

Ensieth was deeply troubled now, crooning frantically and curling her neck to encircle her rider protectively. Aliseth, Hesriath, the shadow called out pitifully. Mine is sick and hurt, please help!

Teagan wished she could wave the shadow off, but she honestly had no idea what was causing such a violent reaction, and she was a little scared. Her entire body was trembling and she felt very, very weak. And the blasted dry heaving just would not stop. Instead she closed her eyes and hoped E'zen was nearby.