There has been a time skip of about two Turns since the last chapter. I'm sorry to keep doing this, but I really feel that the skips are necessary, so I'll do my best to keep you well informed of them.
Believe it or not, I am not the famous Anne McCaffrey, nor am I her son Todd. Therefore, I am not the proud owner of canon characters, events and settings, but merely the surprised owner of my own characters and Hanrahan Weyr.
"Let's get back to the Hold!" M'kai roared, pumping his arm. Obediently, the wing behind him lifted off the ground, and in formation, winked between to re-emerge over Telgar Hold.
Tyrith, tell Fedeth that he's out of alignment, and tell him to tell C'nis to see me when we get back, M'kai asked, before giving the signal to land but remain mounted. As Tyrith landed, M'kai swung himself down from the harness and slid down Tyrith's outstretched foreleg to land neatly on his feet next to Lord Larad, who was waiting for the report.
"We've checked right across the area Thread fell, my lord," M'kai said, taking off his helmet and shaking his hair free. I really must get this cut again, he absently thought to himself. "There was one burrow, but your groundcrews did a really good job of destroying it. We flamed it anyway, but it was very well done. Please pass my congratulations on to your teams."
"Thank you, M'kai, and your wing, too," said Larad, shaking his hand. "Can I offer you a cool drink, or something to eat?"
"Thank you for the offer, my lord, but we must return to the Weyr," M'kai replied, giving him a slight bow. "We are expected for a feast being held tonight for the Hatching of Camanth's latest clutch."
Hanrahan Weyr had now been established for nearly two Turns, and Drianne was happily settled in as the senior Weyrwoman. B'kennor was the Weyrleader, had been since the beginning, and was doing a fine job of it. With occasional advice from F'nor and Brekke, they ran Hanrahan smoothly and efficiently.
D'ron and M'kai both had their own wings and were B'kennor's main seconds, but with the end of Thread in sight, their duties were being greatly reduced from what they had originally been. Threadfall had been petering out for the past three months, and according to instruments on the Yokohama, would completely end in another two. Every Weyr was getting ready to celebrate, but the danger wasn't quite over, so riders still flew Thread, comforted by the thought that neither they nor their descendants would ever have to fly it again after the end of this Pass.
"This is the third-last Threadfall over Telgar land, but other wings have volunteered to fly those Falls, so the next time I see you, it should be socially, not on business!" M'kai joked, climbing Tyrith's shoulder and reseating himself. "Farewell, Lord Larad!"
"Farewell, Wingleader M'kai!" Larad called back, waving. He sheltered his face against the dust as the wing took off, then walked back up to the Hold, a spring in his step as he contemplated the end of a threat he had known all his life.
x
"Congratulations, new riders, on the beginning of a new life," B'kennor announced that night, when everyone was seated at the long tables, the new riders still in their white Impression robes with proud parents sitting nearby.
"You have begun your careers as dragonriders at the dawn of a new era; when our society can finally develop without the threat of Thread hanging over us. Dragonriders will play an instrumental part in this development."
"Especially me!" called M'kai cheekily, waving his pipe.
The room burst out laughing at the awful pun, and B'kennor roared for food. The weyrfolk who worked in the kitchens and some of the more junior riders began to carry out large platters heaped high with different foods, and the Impression feast really got underway.
As the conversation volume rose, M'kai saw Kirsty quietly slip away, and concerned by her troubled expression, followed her.
"Nice night, huh?" M'kai asked, coming up beside Kirsty and leaning on the waist-high rail that ran around the veranda of the Teaching Hall.
She jumped then, realising who it was, relaxed. "Large crowds tend to make me uncomfortable," she explained, leaning back onto the rail. "So I came out here. No one comes near the Teaching Hall except for lessons."
"No one except me," M'kai laughed.
She laughed too, and turned to gaze at him. "You know, I admire you for being able to speak up like you did back there," she said admiringly. "When I don't know the people around me, I can't even talk to one person, let alone the whole room."
"You didn't have any trouble talking to me when we first met," M'kai remarked, looking down at her. His eyes twinkled with mischief and starlight reflected off the bay, and she ached to put her arms around him, but she didn't dare.
"That's different," she retorted. "When I first saw you, you were unconscious and bleeding, and needed my help. Well, actually, Uncle's help, but I helped him, and it was me who soothed you when you cried out in your sleep that night. I think it was just a nightmare, but the fact that I could help you made you special to me. When you woke up, you proved to be really nice, and I instantly liked you. You were my first real friend," she admitted softly, staring at her feet. She looked up, expecting to see disbelief in his face, but to her amazement, she saw understanding.
"I used to be just like you, Kirsty," he said softly. "When I was little, I wouldn't speak a word to anyone except my family. I spent all my time with my father, but after he died, I was always alone. Dioron had other friends he played with, and I was welcome to play with them too, but I was too scared to go near them, so I wandered the cliffs by myself."
"How did you change?" she asked, fascinated. This was the first time she had heard M'kai talk about his past.
"I only changed when I met Drianne," he said with a slight smile. "I met her at a Gather in my eighth Turn. Well, she and Dioron met, and Di introduced her to me. She refused to let me stay in the shadows while everyone else played, and she gradually taught me to be myself without being scared someone would object."
"That's why you hide too, isn't it? You're scared someone will object to you being yourself," he said gently, tilting her chin up so she was looking at him.
Tears welled up in her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. "I… I just want to make friends, but I'm really scared that I'll do something wrong and they won't like me, so I avoid people to avoid making mistakes."
M'kai laughed softly, and brushed her tears away. "Kirsty, our entire lives, and those of everyone in Hold, Hall and Weyr, are about making mistakes. It's how we learn. And if people don't like you because you don't say exactly what they want you to, then they're not worth having as friends. Real friends like you for what you are, not what you do."
"Really?" she asked, her eyes wide with a childlike innocence.
"Promise," he replied with a smile.
"Thank you, M'kai," she said softly, a smile creeping onto her face. "You've really made my night." Suddenly, she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then hurried away into the darkness looking both pleased and mortified.
M'kai blinked in surprise, then slowly leaned on the rail to gaze out across the bay, a smile beginning to spread across his face.
Reviews are welcome, and very encouraging! They've already gotten me out of one major sticky patch, and have helped me stitch up quite a few holes present elsewhere in this tale...