I am thoroughly flattered that anybody at all is showing an interest in this story; I have to pick myself up off the floor each time I get a review!
The original characters who appear are mine, the rest is not.
"So, you Impressed Jarrath at the same time as I Impressed Tyrith?" M'kai said slowly.
"That's right. I was Searched from the Dolphin Hall three months after I made journeyman, and Impressed Jarrath. How about you?"
"They found me the day after I made Master," M'kai replied absently.
"And he wasn't going to go until I told them that he'd lied about his age!" B'kennor laughed. These two are a lot alike, but certainly not in looks, he thought to himself. Whereas M'kai had black hair that was a little too long, D'ron kept his own cropped close to his head, and D'ron's tanned skin contrasted sharply with the much paler M'kai. The only physical thing they were even roughly similar in was height, though D'ron was slightly taller.
"You made Master? At your age? You're sixteen Turns old! Did they know that before they raised you?" D'ron exploded.
"No. Drianne told them afterwards, when I was Searched," M'kai admitted shamefacedly. "They were all shocked, especially my girlfriend."
As soon as he realised what he'd said, M'kai clapped a hand over his mouth. However, it was too late.
"Your girlfriend? Whoa, little brother! You have a girlfriend?" D'ron crowed.
"I haven't seen her since the Search. She moved to one of the Southern Holds after she got her Mastery," M'kai snapped.
"What's her name?" D'ron asked, still grinning.
"Diara," M'kai replied, turning his back on D'ron.
"Diara?" D'ron said in a strangled voice. "Was she a Healer?"
M'kai swung back at his tone, and found that D'ron's grin had disappeared, and his eyes were bleak.
"Yes, she was. Why? And why do you say 'was' a Healer?" M'kai asked, concerned.
"About six months ago, my friend Andy, who Impressed a green at the same time as me, fell ill. As the days went past and she didn't get better, we all started to get worried, so we got permission to call in a Master Healer. The Weyr's healer couldn't do anything. So I went down to Southern Hold and asked Master Diara for help. She was puzzled by Andy's illness too, and tried everything. But nothing worked, and Andy died," D'ron said in a deadened voice.
"Oh, Di. I'm so sorry," M'kai said, reaching out a hand and grasping his brother's shoulder. D'ron put one of his own hands on top of M'kai's, and took a deep breath, steadying himself.
"I'm afraid you haven't heard all of it," he said gently. "Not long after Andy died, Diara started showing symptoms of the disease. Despite being ill, she continued to work on a cure. Then one morning, her fire lizard woke me at the crack of dawn. She had discovered a cure. I rushed to her quarters, but it was too late. I found her dead at her desk."
x
M'kai stood stock-still, barely hearing D'ron say that Diara's notes had saved countless lives. Diara? Gone? How could she be gone? She was too young to die! Healers were supposed to fight diseases, not be killed by them!
It wasn't until a hand brushed away his tears that M'kai realised he was crying. "I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you this, little brother," D'ron said gently.
"No!" M'kai shouted, and pushed him away. "She can't be dead! You… you must be lying to me! Playing a cruel trick! I… I don't believe you!"
M'kai turned and ran, away from D'ron, and away from the horrible news that he had brought. His thoughts bounced around randomly, and the tears made tracks down his cheeks. Tyrith! he screamed to the empty sky, knowing nothing but his need to get away. Tyrith!
And suddenly, the big bronze was there, gliding beside him. M'kai took a running leap, and landed astride his neck. Take me home! M'kai cried silently, and formed a picture in his mind. Obediently, knowing that now was not the time for questions, Tyrith winked between.
x
Long after M'kai had run out of tears, he continued to cry, dry sobs that tore at his throat. He buried his face in the cover of the bed and cried, but eventually, the storm abated, and he just lay there, exhausted.
"Mor?" came a soft voice. "Are you in there?"
If it isn't Diara, I don't want to know, he thought. He remained silent, even when he heard someone enter the room and felt them sit on the edge of the bed.
"Mor, I know that you hurt, and that you're in shock. Let us help you. We all suffer losses throughout our lives, but we must be strong and go on. There are some who say that the loved ones who die before us wait for us on the other side of death, and I like to believe that it is true. But for now, you must rejoin the living, and live your life as she would have wanted you to."
M'kai made no reply, and after a few more attempts, the voice gave up and left, and M'kai spiralled back into the pit of despair he had fashioned for himself.
x
"He still won't respond, though I think he may have heard me that time," Menolly said as she softly closed the door.
"Is he still just lying there?" B'kennor asked, worried.
Menolly nodded silently, and B'kennor and D'ron sighed.
After M'kai had left Tillek so abruptly, B'kennor and D'ron had gone back to Benden to find him. When they couldn't, they started to get worried, and that was when they got a message from Menolly via Beauty, saying that M'kai had turned up at the Hall.
When M'kai had told Tyrith to take him home, the picture he had formed was the Hall, so Tyrith had taken him there, and M'kai had run to his old room and flung himself onto the bed to cry. He hadn't moved from there in three days.
"What are we going to do?" D'ron asked worriedly. "He can't just stay there and cry forever!"
"What can we do?" B'kennor sighed. "He won't respond to any of us!"
"Mother?" came a call up the stairs. "Mother, are you up here?"
"Yes, dear. I'm in the journeymens' quarters," Menolly called back.
Within moments, a young woman came striding around the corner, stripping off her riding gloves. She shook out her long hair and sighed.
"Oh, I hate having to wear that helmet! It's wonderful to see you both again!" she exclaimed, giving Menolly and B'kennor a hug. "And who are you?" she asked, turning to D'ron.
"D'ron, rider of Jarrath," D'ron said.
To his surprise, she gave a gasp of delight and gave him a hug too. "Oh, you have changed so much!" she exclaimed. "Then again, you were only twelve when I last saw you…"
"Drianne! How have you been?" he said with a grin. Her personality hasn't changed, though her appearance certainly has, he thought.
"Great! So, you're a rider too, huh? Oh, B'kennor! Did Mor Impress after he was Searched? I never did find out," she asked, turning back to B'kennor.
The two men suddenly lost their grins. "Yes, he did," B'kennor said quietly. "His bronze is out on the fireheights."
"Then he's here too?" she said delightedly. "Where is he?"
D'ron indicated the door. "In his old room. I should warn you that what you're about to see will probably shock you," he added, pushing the door open.
Drianne hesitated, wondering what he meant, then squared her shoulders and marched through the door, only to stop in horror as she saw the terrible state he was in.