Author's Note: Hey everyone! I am so sorry for the really really late update- I've been really busy lately, but I know that's no excuse, so I hope this chapter will make up for it... Again, I'm not sure if I've used the correct terms or concepts, since I've been lazy and still have not refreshed my memory of Anne McCaffrey's Pern, so please review and tell me what you think and correct any of my mistakes. Thank you so much for persevering with my story everyone. I really appreciate it! ^_^
When they finally arrived at the Weyr, the Hatching Grounds were already filled to the brim. In all the surrounding stands, hundreds crowded around, the excitement already building up in the atmosphere. The sense of anticipation there however, was nothing compared to that below them, on the warm sands of the Grounds.
Over fifty candidates were gathered in their customary white tunics, all eyes turned towards the rainbow orbs of life at the very centre, each one gently rocking to the unearthly humming that emanated from the dragons present at the Hatching.
The largest egg, a regal looking one of green and gold swirls, had already been picked out as the queen egg, and most of the girls present had clustered around, chattering excitedly, yet always focused on its rhythmic rockings. The other eggs, though smaller, were no less beautiful. Each one was a delicate swirl of colours, a bit of sky blue here, the green of a fresh leaf there, flecks of every colour imaginable dotting the shells.
Amid the excitement though, Letha hesitated. She remained near the back of the crowd of candidates, and merely looked on. The experience it seemed, was just too new for her to comprehend.
This was undoubtedly her opportunity of a lifetime, her first and probably only opportunity to rise from that lowly rank of mute harper. If she managed to impress a dragon, any dragon- gold or green did not matter to her- she would be able to speak! She would never have to worry about her inability to communicate ever again! Letha's eyes unconsciously closed as she mused.
She would have a constant companion who would understand her every thought, share her every experience and simply revel in the wonder of life. Not only that, but she would finally be respected, never pitied again because of her muteness. Just the thought of it made her smile.
"They're hatching! They're hatching!"
Once again, cries of excitement, mixed with anticipation, hope and wonder jolted her back to reality.
Letha's eyes snapped open, gold brown orbs quickly scanning Grounds. The eggs had begun to rock dangerously fast, and already, cracks had appeared on their surfaces.
An almighty crack heralded the emergence of one particular little green, and it's plaintive creeling brought many candidates to it with promises of meat. In the space of a few seconds, the dragon had impressed a candidate, the girl already bursting into tears of pure joy.
A great cheer arose from the surrounding crowds to acknowledge the Impression, and Letha stood awestruck, watching the whole scene without any real comprehension.
Everything seemed to be happening too fast for her. All around her, cheers rose and fell, each second announced the impression of yet another dragon, and the number of eggs still unhatched seemed to decline rapidly in number.
Letha whirled around in panic, tears of frustration already building up inside her. Why couldn't everything just slow down for a minute? Why was everything happening so fast? Shells! At this rate, all the eggs would be gone before she even had a chance to approach one!
In her panic, Letha blundered blindly into the candidates in front of her, just as a heart-rending crack reverberated through the Hatching Grounds. As one, the crowd held their breath, as the gold dragon emerged from the confines of its shell. Fragile membranous wings drew from the sticky mess of a shell, and the little dragon struggled to climb from the shell, its small claws clutching at the sands in desperation. It struggled with a plaintive keening, blundering wildly into the crowd of candidates. The dragon pushed through candidate after candidate, leaving behind a trail of disappointment as it rejected each of the hopefuls.
To the surprise of all, it at last, came to a stop before one particular candidate, one which hadn't even seemed to have existed before that point.
Letha's eyes widened in surprise as the gold approached, its membranous wings trailing behind it in a dejected fashion. Its whirling eyes gazed up into her own, and in a child-like gesture, it extended its snout towards her, as if in greeting.
A voice sounded into Letha's mind at that moment, a subtle one which seemed more of a thought than any human voice could sound. My name is Tr-
A sudden piercing note, sharp as deep amber, penetrated both of their minds without warning, a note so high in pitch and frequency that it sent both Letha and the gold to the ground in agony. The sound, even when inducing such pain, had strong impressions of darkest deep amber, shades of the colour seeming to form within their minds subconsciously. However, the sound was gone as abruptly as it had come, and Letha forced herself to her knees, her confusion reflected in the bewildered expressions of all who were gathered at the Hatching.
In that eerie silence, the gold had finally struggled to its feet and once again gazed at Letha, with eyes whirling faster than she had ever seen before. Letha struggled to interpret the multitude of emotions reflected in those eyes. Confusion, hurt, regret, and remorse...any of those emotions could have been the one the dragon had tried to convey, yet Letha could not determine which one it was, gazing into the unfathomable depths of colour.
In a heart rending move, the gold dragon, with that strange emotion in its eyes, turned from Letha and shuffled towards another candidate, a girl with hair the colour of flame.
It paused a moment before realisation seemed to suddenly dawn upon the girl.
"Her name is Tranth!" the girl cried.
After a moment's of confused pause, the crowd returned to its former excitement, their voices raised high in cheers.
From that moment, Letha's senses became clouded. Kneeling on the hot sands of the Hatching Grounds, she was oblivious to everything. All sight, all sounds, all of her senses dulled as she withdrew inside of herself, rejecting the cruelty of reality.
She did not register the departure of all the candidates, the dragons and the crowds, nor the complete emptiness and silence of the Hatching Grounds as the dark sand swirled around her knees.
She didn't even notice the approach of a bronze rider, eyes filled with worry and concern, who was held back by a smaller woman with a dark band around her hair.
The grey fog had settled firmly on her mind, and its tendrils of smoky silver were not ready to let go.
It wasn't until much later, until she was truly alone, that Letha's flute began to sing a slow song of mourning, deep melancholy notes of sorrow reverberating through the emptiness of the Hatching Grounds.