As you'll notice, I find it easier to start each chapter after either a teensy time-skip or a change of location/character. For instance, Chapter two is roughly five days after Chapter one. Chapter three is a little less than an hour after Chapter two and is above an undefined stretch of land in Southern (since I'm not very familiar with Southern's landscape). That means I can hint at tedious conversations without writing them, and just get straight to the results of said conversations. It makes for a more dramatic story, and I, personally, enjoy writing it more. I hope you enjoy reading it.
Disclaimer: Same as Chapter one.
Chapter 3: Desperation
The air rushing past Tyreena's face was a welcome relief from the uncomfortably hot Southern air. It was one of the perks of being a dragonrider in Monaco Weyr for Tyreena to simply up and fly away with her dragon. She wished that was what she was doing now; a leisurely trip to her parents' hold would have been far more palatable than being one of hundreds of blue and greenriders just waiting for Thread to reach them. It would have been a bit better if they were all from the same Weyr, but there simply wouldn't be enough riders and dragons. They had been forced to call in reinforcements from Southern, Ista, and Igen Weyrs, and Tyreena wasn't completely sure they could work together. Their dragons were naturally competetive and unused to working without the leadership of a brown or bronze; could they really make this work? She gripped the extended wand of her flamethrower tightly, praying that the contraption worked as it should. When the queen dragons of Pern had sent out the order for every blue and green rider to search his Weyr or weyrhold for a flamethrower, Tyreena had obeyed without question, barely pausing to see if it had all the necessary parts. After all, with the firestone mines dormant, there was no better way to fight Thread.
I should be flaming, Purith told her rider peevishly. We should all be flaming. Dragons are better than flamethrowers.
That may be, but you have no firestone to flame with, Tyreena replied smoothly.
There is firestone in the storerooms in the northern Weyrs.
Tyreena didn't bother reminding her that the firestone still in the storerooms, in addition to dating from the last Pass, wouldn't total enough to keep three bronzes flaming through a full Fall.
The flamethrowers work well enough, she answered instead. Besides-
The full-throated roars of nearly three hundred dragons drowned out the rest of her thought. She felt Purith draw in a deep breath in preparation to add her own voice to the din, and as Tyreena lifted her flamethrower up, she caught sight of what had triggered the dragons' challenge: Thread, an endless stream of silver strands, falling out of a clear, blue sky. They looked so harmless, as harmless as the threads used in the Weavers' Craft. If not for the Teaching Ballads and the Turns of knowledge passed down through the generations, Tyreena would have thought the sight beautiful. She was reminded of the ancient menace as the highest riders ignored their dragons' anxiety; she clearly heard the screams, both human and dragon, as the first dragonpair was scored. The pair was quick to disappear between, but their pain had served to jolt the other riders out of their shock. Bursts of flame erupted high in the sky to char the deadly Thread into ash that floated harmlessly down through the ranks of dragons. Live Thread followed the dead, and there were suddenly gouts of flame everywhere. Tyreena watched a tangle of Threads plummet towardher. Grimly, she raised her wand, clicked the release, and watched in horror as nothing happened. She clicked again. And again. Finally, it was too late. The strands had fallen to Purith's shoulder, marring the green hide wherever it touched. Purith screamed, and Tyreena screamed with her. Then she was screaming for herself, too, when the Thread touched her leg. The searing pain was two-fold; dragon and rider felt both pains.
The cold of between had never been so welcome. The sheer cessation of pain was enough to make Tyreena cry out in relief...not that she heard it. Purith held them there for a moment longer than usual to be sure all the Thread was dead and gone, and then they were back in the air, almost in the same position they had left. Tyreena leaned forward to inspect Purith's shoulder. The criss-crossed score was tinged with black, and green ichor oozed slowly from the wound. A minor score, she decided. It had felt far worse than it was. Her leg was the same; the Thread had been slightly impeded by her wherhide pants, so the score wasn't as deep as it could have been. Numbweed on both wounds would do the trick, but that could wait.
Tyreena ran a quick check of her flamethrower equipment. She gave the connection holding the wand to the agenothree tank an extra twist, tapping the attachment to dislodge any gunk that might have clogged the tube. If the 'thrower was faulty, she and Purith would have to return to the Weyr to repair or replace it. Several other riders whose 'throwers weren't working had already gone between. Tyreena clicked the release experimentally and was rewarded with a short blast of red-orange fire.
Hold tight, Purith warned.
Tyreena had just enough time to grab the fighting straps before Purith veered, narrowly dodging a blue whose rider was intent on a patch of Thread. She was reminded why only the smaller colors had been allowed to fly this Fall; their greater manueverability was invaluable when flying in such close quarters, and their smaller size made it easier for their riders to flame Thread and not dragon hide. At least, that was the main reason. Tyreena privately thought that it was also because the larger dragons were off on some other extra-special, super-important mission. That was usually the case. Greens and blues were not too proud to convey holders and crafters, but the golds, bronzes, and most of the browns too often would deny such tasks in favor of more "appropriate" missions. Tyreena didn't much care about them; she was proud both to ride a green and to be in this first Fall.
There's another clump coming! Purith said suddenly, surging upward to allow Tyreena a better shot.
She saw it. Tyreena whipped her wand up, clicked the release, and flamed. Ha! She nearly cheered in triumph as the fire traveled up the silver strand and burned the Thread into ash. She had seared her very first Thread! Purith touched her mind with approval, feeling equally proud and envious of her rider. After the first rush of actually flaming Thread had passed, time seemed to slow until Tyreena was certain she'd never done anything else. Her mind was focused on searching the sky for Thread, flaming, directing Purith between, comforting her dragon when she was scored, and doing it all over again. More than once, the dragons uttered their eerie, heart-wrenching, terrible keening when one of their number, too badly scored, disappeared between and didn't return. After the seveth death, Tyreena stopped counting. By the time the sky was clear of Thread, she was honestly surprised to see how far they had traveled. The open meadows had slowly been replaced by dense forest. She saw a wing detach itself from the main contingent to sweep over the land they had already passed.
Looking for burrows, Purith told her. There are many. Voliathsays we are all to return to our home Weyrs. If we are needed here, we will be told.
Sounds good to me. Let's go home.
Wearily, Tyreena looked about her to see if the remainder of her wing (excepting the ten bronzes and browns who hadn't been included) had gotten the same message. They had lost two greens that she could count before they all began disappearing between. She gave Purith the aerial view of Monaco Weyr and directed her between. The cold stabbing at the scores was enough that, after they came out into Monaco's airspace, Tyreena was calling for numbweed almost before they had landed. As she slathered the stuff on, she noted with relief that the only scores (across shoulders, back, and tail) were minor. She had thought that a stray Thread or two had caught wing membrane, but they had apparently been lucky. Others had not. With her own pain dulled, Purith dutifully informed her of the reported casualties: two greens and a blue in their wing, as well as six others from the other wings, had been lost between; there were twelve with bad wing-scores who would be unable to fight for a month or more; nine had severe body scores and had already been heavily dosed with fellis; thirty-two riders were badly scored and had been give fellis; all others had minor scoring. Tyreena winced at the numbers, not feeling any better that she and Purith had come out of it with minimal damage.
While she waited for news on the burrows, Tyreena volunteered herself to help with the Weyr healers. She spent nearly two hours slathering numbweed over scores, bandaging limbs, and running supplies here and there before someone told her to go back to her own weyr and rest. With Purith's reassurance that the sweepriders would not call on them, she gratefully retired to her bed. She fell asleep almost immediately, but she could never tell whether it was from sheer exhaustion or the mug of fellis-laced wine a healer had pressed on her. She decided she didn't care.
Note: Tyreena and Purith are a pair I'd made in the same rp as the pairs from Chapter two. Voliath will be explained next chapter, but he and his rider are the same way.
I am aware that it is highly unlikely that so many flamethrowers would be found just by chance, but my guess is that they were used for burning back vegetation in the Southern Continent, Nerat, and Southern Boll. That's a decent enough excuse for now. Anyway, it's not like all of them worked perfectly (as demonstrated), and the Fall wasn't without casualties. Well, I hope you enjoyed my very first ever attempt at writing a Thread-fighting scene (and I mean ever; I'd never even tried before this specific chapter). Bear in mind that I had to rewrite most of this story once, and then rewrite another paragraph after that because the internet stopped working before I could save it. So it isn't what I originally wrote, and therefore isn't as good. However, it's decent, so please enjoy. Remember, if you read, review. It's great motivation.