Me: Hello my dears :)
As you can see, I was recently encouraged into writing more of this, which due to my rebellious mind and disgust over my former work, turned into rewriting the entire thing. Well, I hope you enjoy the new work :)

Viva: Disclaimer. Now.

Me: No.

Viva: Shadow lovely, the razor your looking for is in th-

Me: Okay, okay! I don't own Dragonriders of Pern. I do however own these dear characters. There, happy now?

Shadow: Why do I put up with these lunatics again..?

The slender boy thrashed in the midst of a nightmare. Images flashing through his mind of faces and voices that he didn't recognize. Screams of terror and agony, writhing white Thread burning through flesh and bone. A Dragon Rider, anyone who'd seen what they had, would be able to say that something was wrong with the boy. A boy that had never seen Thread in his life. Let alone the devastating damage it could do to a living person. Then the door banged open, someone drawn by the soft whimpers of terror, and the sound made the boy jerk up, violet eyes snapping open, a hand already covering his mouth to muffle his scream.

Devoneth tapped his short, worn nails against his thigh. The steady sound was causing irritated eyes to flicker at him from across the room, from Xadra. But his distant, violet eyes took no notice of her growing ire. His mind too filled with the flashing images of so many restless nights. So many nightmares. Devoneth knew what it was, however much he had pretended otherwise for the first fifteen years of his existence.

Only two people knew. Xadra, who he'd told a long time ago, and his sister who'd walked in on one of his nightmares when he was seven.
The rest of his easily distracted family was convinced that it was just the nightmares of a over-active imagination, and that they'd stopped when he was eight.
If only. And of course, his dear, oblivious sister had tried to convince him to tell the Hold Harper. So sheltered, at first in her social life and now in her marriage. Hidden from the harsh world by a wall of people. She didn't know that the only person he talked to outside of his own family was Xadra. The pariah of Fort Hold.

Telling the world that he saw visions of what was likely the original colonists would just be the perfect climax to his outcast status.

"Did you hear that the clutch is ready to hatch? They say that Nirmanth did well."
Devoneth startled, looking over his shoulder at his friend. Xadra made a impressive figure. With her tangle of black curls, standing easily six feet as she lounged with that naturally arrogant posture against the wall. Her brown eyes that were just a little too red for comfort, trained on him. They'd been friends for far too long for her normal antics - or personality rather - to unnerve him.

"They'll be searching then. Was there another queen?" Devoneth inquired, more out of obligation to continue her attempt to break the awkward silence than any real interest. He was unlike any boy or girl in this Hold, in the fact that he'd never dreamed of dragons. Watched them in awe as they glided across the skies, but he'd never wanted to ride one.

"Would they say it was a good clutch if there wasn't?"

"Only within hearing range Nirmanth."
And together they shuddered at the thought of how the Queen would react to the smallest slight against her and her clutch. She didn't lack the pride and temperament that was traditional and expected of her color.

"Come on Von. Lets go take care of those beasts we have the audacity to call Runner Beasts." Devoneth grinned, and followed her as she strut past and Jierda. The undeniably ferocious Runner Beast's he and Xadra had rescued from two separate homes. The track for Charon and the cart for Jierda. Charon.. the only thing he ever let slip from his dreams to reality. A word he'd seen on an ancient looking scroll. And beneath it, the picture of a hooded man. When he's seen the black Runner Beast, injured with a broken leg and angry at everything that came near, that picture had come to mind.

And so his companion had been named. Bought cheap, because no one wanted a injured racer and the further injuries from the tumble had rendered him useless for breeding. Devoneth smiled as he remembered that day, only Xadra's heavy footsteps reminding him to keep walking. His parents had very nearly kept him from buying the Runner Beast, but flashing his own marks and using plenty of begging, had worked.
It had been a struggle to keep him alive, and Charon would never move without a limp again, but he was alive. And all the more fiery without the track to pent out that aggression.

"Oi! Devoneth! Get over here and tell your beast to get off my foot!"Speaking of which.. Devoneth walked the rest of the distance into the stables and over to the stall where Xadra had been interrupted. By Charon's hoof firmly planted on her's. And he grinned, trying to stifle his snickers behind his hand. Amazing how, as tough as Xadra was, she could be bested by something as simple as a stubborn, cantankerous Runner Beast.

As if the woman could read his mind, Xadra gave him a venomous glare. Choosing to point firmly at the stallion rather than scold him like she usually would.

"Charon, behave." Devoneth grabbed the stallion by his bride, guiding him once more into the back of his stall and off of Xadra's booted foot. Charon snorted in displeasure, baring his teeth at Xadra. Those two were made rivals. It made it clear what his type of friend was at least. He'd found two creatures of the exact same temperament and brought them into his life without a second thought.

"Thats much better thank you. Deadglow!" The second part was aimed at Charon, and Devoneth snorted in laughter as the stallion simply snapped at her, missing by a few inches only because of his hand on the bridle. And wisely, Xadra retreated to her original destination, Jierda's stall. Her steel gray draft Runner Beast. Unlike Charon, he hadn't been injured. He'd just been flat out vicious. And two inches away from being slaughtered.
They were a perfect pair. Both angry at the world. Both highly inclined to bite. Out of the four of them, he was markedly the only one without a savage nature.

Sometimes, Devoneth wondered about his sanity in befriending her. The rest of Fort Hold certainly did.
"You think they'll search Fort today?" Devoneth asked, beginning to brush out Charon's thick coat.

"Their going to be out of time soon. So probably."

"By Faranth, lets just hope Lamara doesn't manage too push any of her daughters on them.." Cynicism was written over every line in his face as he mentioned the ambitious women. Tyranny was proven to be a genetic thing with her and her spawn.

And then the beat of wings interrupted them, and Devoneth dropped the brush back in it's box, as he stepped outside to look. With Xadra barely two steps behind him

"Told you."

Devoneth glanced at her, with her hands on her hips, squinting up at the brown and blue as they circled down.
"Come on Xadra. Before Lamara comes to chase us off."
"You'd think they'd choose someone more.. mentally stable as a Head Woman." Devoneth half cringed at her statement, glancing around to see if it had been heard. Not as bad as insulting dragon riders, or the Lord Holder - and she had done both - but it was still not the smartest thing to do.

Seeing no one, Devoneth grabbed her by the wrist and half dragged her back towards the Hold living quarters. They would have to finish brushing down the Runner Beasts when they weren't spooked by dragons. He'd learned a couple years back, that however vicious and fearless Charon usually was, dragons were an exception.

Back in his room, by the window, Devoneth was tapping his nails against the table again. This time, Xadra had retreated back to wherever she went to stay out of the way and gather gossip. How she, the most antisocial person in this Hold, got more gossip than half the population, he didn't know.
Like everyone in Pern, Devoneth had heard everything about dragons. Every rumor, every fact. Gold, Bronze, Brown, Green and Blue. He'd always pictured Xadra on a dragon. She just belonged with creature as powerful and intelligent as a dragon by her side. A Queen maybe.

Though he could only imagine how she'd take a mating flight. Probably kicking, screaming and clawing someone's eye out. But then again.. if anyone ran on instincts, it was her.

Devoneth's eyes turned to the window again, Fort had a good view, despite the weather. Then he saw the blue dragon again. It banked and curved it's wing, gliding in slow circles around the hold, as if searching for a good spot to land. Away from the bustle of easily frightened Holders. Dragons could talk to who they wished.. right? That had to mean they could hear as well.

'There is a cove far too your right. It offers little for warmth in this weather, but it should hold both you and your companion.' Devoneth had closed his eyes as he tried to direct those thoughts to the dragon. And when he opened his eyes, he got to see the blue's flight path stutter, before gliding to the right.

Thank you, Dreamer.

His violet eyes widened as the voice echoed in his head. A dragon, talking to him. A social outcast with little special about him except the nightmares that woke him up screaming every night. And Dreamer.. he had been called that in so many different tones. Varying from affectionate to mocking. But never like that. Never revering.

"Von, they want everyone out here. Something about a power."

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