09.11 The Games Begin

[ricci]

Archival Synopsis:
The first chapter of Solace begins.
Sr. Weyrwoman Maai, elder sister to Mairin, is ill with fever. In her sickness, she fails to note the presence of another in her Weyr. Though Gold Grenth, on the Sands with what will be her final Clutch, tries desperately to bring attention to what is happening, every attempt fails, and ultimately Maai dies. Grenth, riderless but with her eggs to protect, loses her mind. No Touching is in sight.

---

Maai rarely slept peacefully. There was too much on her mind, her need to eradicate Southern scum giving her nightmares of what would happen should she fail. Grenth snoozed on the Sands, but Maai was overheated. In fact, Maai was somewhat feverish, and so she tossed and turned in her sleep even more than usual, her face blotchy and red. When danger first entered her rooms, she didn't even notice. It was Grenth who realized that something was distinctly wrong. Maai had woken slightly, but had not taken notice of the shadowy figure in her room, the way her glows were turned so that no light entered the room as she usually had. But Grenth, already concerned for her ill rider, noticed immediately.

/Mine?[/color]/ Grenth hissed from the Sands, concerned suddenly.

Maai awoke slowly. Her eyes fluttered briefly, but she did not comprehend anything she saw, so she shut them again and laid there for some moments longer. She had time, did she not?

What is it, Grenth? Maai returned sleepily, eyes still closed as she shivered under her covers, both hot and cold. She wondered briefly if this is what menopause would feel like. In her still almost-asleep state, she was allowed the time to wonder about such frivolous, pointless things. She ran her hand along the top of her nearly-shaved head, sweat-covered and very much like plucked wherry skin at that particular moment. She sighed and coughed. This cold was quite persistent. Nevertheless, she didn't know the hour, and it was likely time for her to do her rounds and get to work. She was not one to take the day off for something as simple as a cold. It would take Firehead to lay this woman down.

She sat up slowly, eyes opening but focused on the ground. It was dark in here, which was unusual. Maai kept at least one glow turned to emit light each day so that she would not trip upon awakening. The glow must have died, she decided... But then, had she not fallen asleep before turning all of her glows? Brow furrowed heavily, she tried to remember, but her mind was cloudy both with sleep and fever.

Slowly, she straightened herself, eying her feet. They looked alien to her in this state of weariness, so she ended that endeavor of understanding her toes in her fog.

She looked up.

/MINE!/

A terrified shriek cut through the air from the Hatching Sands as an angry dragon gave her eggs a long look and struggled betwixt her two priorities that until now had had equal footing. But now, one had to win over the other. Her children, or her Rider?

/ENPICETH! DRAGONS OF THE WEYR, TO YOUR WEYRWOMAN'S QUARTERS IMMEDIATELY, LEST I CUT YOUR THROATS AND LICK YOUR EYES. DANGER, DANGER, TO THIS YOU ATTEND. NOW.[/color]/

With a terrible bellow that shook the Weyr, the dragon left her eggs and laboriously left, struggling as she had not forced herself into the air so fast in several sevendays since she had become too pregnant to fly properly. And now what? Her wing strained painfully, and she fell back to the Sands, only just missing the eggs thanks to quick thinking and even quicker maneuvering of her good wing. Grenth was grounded, and she couldn't hear Maai. Silence buzzed in Grenth's mind like the humming of a Hatching. It filled her being in the way the hum did, but the anticipation and hopefulness was not the same. Instead of anticipating birth and beauty and happiness, she anticipated death and horror and Hell. Hope that hers would be okay, hope that her wing would magically repair itself, but it wouldn't it hung limply at her side, the tendon connecting her shoulders and clavicles and breast bones to that first wing muscle was torn, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had pushed against gravity too hard, had battled flight, and lost. What kind of dragon was she, that she couldn't fly to save her rider?

/Maai! Maai! Maai![/color]/ came that thin, horrible voice through the minds of all who were receptive. But there was no madness, no distinct sense of loss, no keen.

Maai could be saved, but Grenth could not do the saving.

[mumu]

Not fifteen minutes ago one of the candidates had slipped out of her bed. The latrine had been her destination. When nature called, one heeded it or suffered the consequences. Sleepily, she had taken care of business then started to trudge back towards her rooms. But this night, she would not be seeing her bed again any time soon.

Resisting the urge to cradle her head in her hands, Muya froze where she was in the hall. Her eyes winced as Grenth shrieked in her mind. Danger? Now? Any sleep that fogged her mind was abruptly gone, the Trader now more alert than she had been in a while. Adrenaline now flushed into her blood stream and she whipped around, taking off into a run towards the Weyrbowl. Help had been demanded, and she would do her duty to her Weyr.

"Get up! Get up, we have a situation!", she shrieked at the top of her voice, attempting to wake those who had slept through Grenths demand/plea. Though she did not know the Gold at all, or the Weyrwoman either, both were very important to the over all health of Silence. If the Weyrwoman was killed...they would lose the Queen that was currently with her clutch on the sands. It would weaken them, and Southern might take that time to strike.

As far as Muya was concerned, she was not about to lose any more family. For the Weyr had become just that to her since most of her Caravan had been obliterated. There was probably very little she could do, but that would not stop her from trying. Not at all.

So when she ran into a gaggle of drudges the woman paused, grabbing hold of the nearest one. "Get as many others as you can. Send them all up the steps by the Weyrwomans rooms. Make sure nobody gets away!" The rushed order given, she sent the drudge off again then started running again...twisting through the lower tunnels while alerting anybody that came in her path. And when she herself finally made it to the Weyrwomans stairwell...she stared up the flight. Only a second did she hesitate before she began to run up the steps, bare feet slapping loudly against the stone.

She was unarmed and had no idea what was up there. Chances are, she could probably get hurt. But the lass didn't care, the Weyrwomans life was more important than hers. Whatever she found up there, she would do her best to stall the attackers until real help came...even if it meant giving her own life.

[danaphantom]

Night... the time of the Wherhandlers. The sanctuary of the sneaky was the domain of those who could not see during the day. While the Weyr was busy rousing due to their abrupt, late night wake-up call, Solace's Wherhandlers were already up and about... and fight-ready.

Mine! Tarisk hissed as she twisted, gaze immediately turning towards the Hatching Sands and the Weyrwoman's Quarters beyond. Tariv straightened, leaving his firestone task unfinished, narrowing his eyes as he stared in the same direction. A short, nearly incomprehensible conversation passed between them, but after eight years, Tariv had learned how to piece the important parts out of the rush that was Tarisk's form of communication. His scarred face set in a grim frown, He gave a nod.

"Come on!" he shouted as he jumped onto the shoulders of his wher, using her as a mount as she bounded across the Weyrbowl, a snarl escaping her lips. Flapping her wings to achieve even the slightest bit of flight, Tarisk rocketed along, bridging the distance in a fraction of the time Tariv could have with his own two feet. She paused just ever so slightly at the entrance to the Weyrwoman's Quarters, giving her handler enough time to slip off her shoulders. With a gesture, he allowed her to go first, the Green slinking into the darkness.

Using her darkvision to her advantage, Tarisk prowled the weyr, searching for any signs of an intruder. She would not allow hers to enter the danger... not until she was sure. Pausing at the wooden door to the Weyrwoman's sleeping chambers, she cast another glance outward, double- and triple-checking.

[sydney]

[/i] were. It was hard to tell with E'oghan.

Lyanoth, however, was not asleep. She was instead content to watch E'oghan sleep and snort and laugh as he cuddled with his furs and talked in his sleep. Hers was a strange one, he was but, he was far better then any other male human out there-

E'oghan.

Snoring, the male rolled over onto his side, barely registering his dragon's voice inside his mind.

E'oghan!

Squeaking as a tail connected with his legs, the auburn haired man sat up immediately, hair sticking up in all sorts of ways as he glanced around. ”What?! What is it?!” Hush.

Frowning, the male glared towards his dragon, listening to the silence with annoyance. What on Pern had she woken him up for now? If it was another joke, he swore he would smack her. He had been having a good dream, too and-

Recoiling as the screaming voice of Grenth entered his head, the male fell backwards, hitting his head on the wall of his room and rolling off his bed all in one move. What the hell-

Get up, get up and go, E'oghan! Hurry!

Concerned, for once, over her mother, the copper glared at her rider as he stumbled to his feet and moved to rush out of his weyr, not even stopping to put on shoes. He was already dressed, or at least he was wearing pants and a shirt, he didn't need shoes.

Shoving one poor brown-rider to the side rather unceremoniously, the male gave an aggravated hiss of frustration, rushing towards the Weyrwoman's quarters. Twisting through the hallways, the man gave a snort when he finally reached the stairway, shooting the wherhandled and canidated who had already arrived a dark look.

”What's going on? What's the damage?”[/ul]

[. plot .]

It was almost too simple, he thought from his place in the corner.

The man in the shadows had been waiting there while the Weyrwoman slept in a fever. He had turned the glows that lit her room and made sure that no straying ray of light would enter and disrupt his plans. He had worked too hard for this to let it all go to waste now, and from such a tiny mistake. They had all worked too hard. Those who had chosen him so carefully, and the ones who had brought him here, gotten him into this perfect position to watch, and wait, and...

Strike.

He looked to his wher, whose gnarled features were painted with shadows as well. Soon, he thought to the creature. Soon.

Everything was going well, he thought, and then that sharding Gold stirred and woke. She must have spoken, for the Weyrwoman's eyes opened groggily. The young woman was sweating and coughing from a cold that she had conveniently come down with in the past days, something that would only make his job easier. But it was all right. The Weyrwoman sat up, looking around in weary, ill confusion, her brow furrowed as she fought to remember through the twilight haze that clouded her mind. He remained, lurking in the darkness.

She looked up through the fog. She saw him.

The benighted Queen leapt into action, and this time the result was far more dangerous. ENPICETH! she shrieked, alerting every single being in the vicinity, be they human, dragon, or wher, to his actions. DRAGONS OF THE WEYR, TO YOUR WEYRWOMAN'S QUARTERS IMMEDIATELY, LEST I CUT YOUR THROATS AND LICK YOUR EYES. DANGER, DANGER, TO THIS YOU ATTEND. NOW.

He couldn't have the Werywoman scream. That would have people running from all over the Weyr, as if they weren't already running thanks to the Queen's warning. He solved this problem in the first way he devised, striding to the bed and grabbing Maai by the throat, strangling any potential screams before they could escape. Solace's leader was a strong woman, but she was tired and ill, and taken by surprise; he had been chosen specifically for his skill, and he had planned all the details. As Maai faded away out of consciousness, Grenth screeched for help, knowing that her rider still had a slim chance at survival. This was a chance that he had been hired to eliminate.

The assassin unsheathed his knife. In the dim light, the silver blade was laced with some glistening substance. Where would those who came to rescue her not check? He considered, and then he knelt down to make a small incision across Maai's heel, watching impassively as the poison trickled into the little wound. Slow. Subtle. Leave it to Solace to deal with any of the mess left behind.

He heard commotion, coming closer, darkening the door of the Weyrwoman's chambers. He placed his knife back in its sheath. And he returned to his wher with a curl of the lips that could almost be a smile.

He and the wher betweened away.

[/justify]

[mousy]

A'zira was, for some absurd reason, still awake. He had been sitting up and watching Flocke and Ibath sleep, as he was wont to do, particularly these days. He always worried about the two creatures, even though both were very much capable of looked after themselves, even Flocke, despite his young age. Still, he very much loved his pet, and his dragon, and was therefore entitled to worry, right?

As Ibath slept, he often wondered if the black dragon dreams, of if her mind was as blank as her usual expression. He never knew, because she twitched occasionally (unlike Flocke, who seemed to be dreaming that he was a windmill or something like that, the way he way wriggling).

As he looked blearily around in the dark, however, there was a loud, shrill cry, and he jolted violently. Flocke woke up, presumably thinking it was morning, and flew on to his plaything's shoulder.

ENPICETH! DRAGONS OF THE WEYR, TO YOUR WEYRWOMAN'S QUARTERS IMMEDIATELY, LEST I CUT YOUR THROATS AND LICK YOUR EYES. DANGER, DANGER, TO THIS YOU ATTEND. NOW.

What the-

"Shards," A'zira murmured, removing Flocke from his shoulder, and getting nipped at by the Firelizard in the process. Ibath's head shot up when she heard the shrieking, and she got up.

Mine. Grenth calls, and I must obey. And with that, the black dragon betweened.

[/justify]

[danaphantom]

((That's what you get, Rice! Good thing I have internet access during my lunch break XP))


A hand was raised, tacitly asking for silence from the other two who had approached the Weyrwoman's Quarters. Tariv peered into the darkness, the faintest of overlays showing in his mind as Tarisk communicated what she saw. Emptiness beyond, just furniture.

"The first room is empty," Tariv muttered quietly in explanation, stepping into the darkness. Taking this as her cue, Tarisk darted for the door to the bedchamber, bristling. Influenced by the panic Grenth had, the Wher was violent and edgy. Her eyes were two angry pools of orange, bright against the darkness beyond. She paced briefly at the wooden door, before becoming impatient and simply tackling it. Stepping back, she heaved her heavy body against the splintering wood, A snarl escaped the Green as it gave way, stalking those that were here.

But the emphasis was 'were.' A disgruntled growl escaped her as she searched in vain for the intruders. A deep, feral growl escaped her chest as she stalked about, hissing at their stench. It was thick as pea soup, the reek of those that should not have been there. A wher. A wher. She did not know this wher. He was here. He had attacked the Queen's. He needed to pay. This wher. She wanted to sink her teeth into him. Wher. Bad wher.

Stepping into the room, Tariv seemed completely nonplussed by the utter darkness within the weyr itself. "It's empty," he said quietly to his companions, alerting them that Tarisk's aggressiveness was not due to an intruder. He stepped over to his Wher, taking her head in his hands and trying to soothe her, an attempt to get her to communicate something more specific than this wher she was focusing on.

[ricci]

/No! You imbeciles! To her! To her! Get to her now! Your blood will boil on these Sands and I shall pluck your kidneys through your throats! In! Save her!/ the Gold bellowed, her ugly, high voice even uglier than usual as she shrieked in terror, her shrieks and screams easily heard from the Weyrwoman's quarter's all the way from the Sands to accompany her words.

Inside, Maai said nothing, did nothing. Maai was dying.

/DO NOT LEAVE HER THERE TO DIE, OR DIE YOU WILL, WORTHLESS, PITIFUL, HORRIBLE THINGS YOU ARE./

The Gold was in a panic.

/STUPID disgusting wher! Follow it, then! Follow your brother, for I'm certain you've a role in this as do all your sinister kind! Their wings, gnarled, will become my morning defecation!/ the Gold cried, but it would be of no use. No one was capable of following Between someone who did not want to be followed.

Maai said nothing, did nothing, Maai was dying.

The Gold screeched and hissed and nearly crushed her eggs again, but barely missed them. These, of equal priority, would not also be taken from her should she leave their collective side.

[lredd011]

Keeliah slept soundly that night. She was typically a hard sleeper to begin with, but she had outdone herself these past few days with the arrival of the new Candidates. She had been running around making sure everything was perfect for their arrival and making sure they had everything they needed and felt at home. Some of them were not used to life in the Weyr, so she took it upon herself to help them get situated. Some of the other riders thought she spoiled the Candidates too much. But she did not see it that way. Yes, there was a time and place to be strict with them, for they did have their responsibilities and certain things were required of them. But they also needed older mentors who had been where they had been. And Keeliah and Lilith fit into this role naturally.

A horrible roar ripped through the night air, and even as tired as Keeliah was, she bolted straight up in bed. She immediately sought Lilith, whose eyes were orange, indicating alarm and anger. Lilith, what is it? What’s happening? {Mine, we must leave at once! The Weyrwoman is in grave danger. Grenth commands us to go to her now, hurry!}

Keelliah was already astride the red dragon by the time Lilith finished her last sentence, and the two went between, appearing moments later outside of the weyr where Maai resided. There was already a small gathering of individuals around the Weyrwoman’s quarters. The Wherhandler known as Tariv then appeared from the dark room, comforting his green wher. The small woman hopped off her mount and strode over to the pair.

“Did you find anything? Has someone checked on the Weyrwoman?"

Perhaps it was a silly question to ask, but they had been instructed to help her, thus it was the first thing on her mind. Evidently, some of the dragons had gotten confused in all the excitement and ended up in the wrong place, and Grenth was absolutely livid to say the least. But most of all, she was scared.

They were all scared.

[izzie]

A'rys, all in all, was not getting very much sleep these days. He was too busy preparing to train a class of weyrlings with only half a turn of experience as a glorified teaching assistant. Sleep was for people who had more time, less anxiety, and jobs that they were actually ready to do. So it had only been a few hours since he had drifted off into unconsciousness, when suddenly he was nudged awake by a shrill screaming in his tired brain and a few insistent pokes of Braith's tail.

Something's happened, the autumn-red dragon said urgently.

"I could kind of guess that, thank you," grumbled A'rys, aided in his awakening by the Weyrqueen's voice shrieking fit to alert the dead and threatening to lick eyes. It was another moment, however, before he fully understood what she was saying. When he did, he leaped to his feet, throwing on a jacket inside out and stumbling around his weyr to find the nearest pair of pants. Get to her now! Save her! ordered Grenth all the while, her voice shrilling in A'rys' mind.

This will be faster, dear, Braith advised, her good-natured voice starting to grow louder as her concern for her mother's rider overtook her concern for not making ears bleed. She swept A'rys onto her back with her tail and blinked between, popping back into existence outside of the Weyrwoman's rooms. A'rys, shaking off the unearthly chill of between, surveyed the dismal situation.

There was a group of people also gathered outside, several riders, including E'oghan and Lyanoth, and a wherhandler, but most importantly a handful of candidates. That was not good. This was not the place for candidates, he thought semi-coherently. The wher, it appeared, had broken down the door to Maai's weyr and did not appear pleased by what she had found inside. A'rys caught sight of the Weyrwoman slumped on her bed. He wasn't sure if she was alive, but he presumed that since Grenth was still screaming for help, there was still time. Okay. This was very, very bad.

"Are there any healers here?" he called, scanning the crowd. There was so much murmuring and panic that probably no one could hear him.

WE NEED HEALERS NOW! boomed Braith, her voice reaching its full, painful volume. A'rys instead turned to look at the candidates who were loitering about. Everyone looked afraid and confused, and the youths of the Weyr who had made it here were certainly no exception. The hatching was only weeks away, and they were already under stress, and who knew what was happening now? His future students would not be traumatized by this, he decided firmly, and set about trying to corral anyone without a dragon or wher away from the scene. "Stand back, please, we need healers right now," A'rys insisted. All those here evidently wanted to help, but blocking the entrance could only do more harm than good.

[/justify]

[. s p o r e ♪]

In the dark, quiet protection of her weyr, Mairin slept fitfully. Strange images swept through her unconscious mind, vanishing before she could see what they were and leaving her groaning and restless. It was the heat, she thought groggily. The blasted heat. It felt like her flesh was melting from her bones, boiling away beneath the sheer rage of it, of that intense, relentless burning. Already her blankets had fallen in a pile on the floor, thrown there by her unknowing flailing, but still the heat did not relent. If anything, it was building, concentrating into one deadly point until-

Mairin! Wake up, Mine! NOW!

Rekhath's piercing shriek raged into the woman's head and had her tumbling on the floor. Fear and anger seethed from her in hot, roiling pulses. As her rider struggled to her feet and looked around in alarmed confusion, the lanky gold stalked in her portion of the weyr.

Go to your sister, Mairin. Go to Maai.

Her mother's rider was in danger. There was a threat inside their Weyr! Catching on to her dragon's distress, Mairin shoved on the nearest clothes that she found within her reach and burst from the door. Maai's weyr was right next to her own, so she was there within moments. But the solid wooden door was locked, and she was forced to run back through her own weyr in order to access the Weyrwoman's quarters from the outside.

People had started to gather by the time she had reached the outer reaches of Maai's rooms. Mairin organized her thoughts hastily, trying to push down the worry that clutched at her as fear and rage from two queens assaulted her senses. Riders, handlers, and even candidates were clustered about the room now, all wanting to know what was wrong, but Mairin pushed her way through them and followed a greenhandler into Maai's room.

"Thank you, A'rys," she said as she passed the redrider. "Until the healer arrives, please keep everyone out." Then she was crouching beside her older sister, staring with confusion and horror at her prone form. Maai did not react to the presence of other people crowding around her weyr. Her skin was slick with fever and her lips were beginning to turn blue. "Maai, Maai, wake up. What has happened to you...?" She knew nothing of Healercraft, and couldn't begin to fathom what had happened to put the Weyrwoman in such a state. Mairin clasped her sister's clammy hands in her own, fighting tears. The healer would arrive soon, and he would know what to do. At least shallow breaths seemed to still be passing in and out of Maai's lips.

As the minutes passed, Mairin followed each one.

[bloodfire]

The young red had been rather restless as of late. Something had been in the air that she simply did not like, something that made her uneasy and fitful. She didn't like this feeling one bit, but there wasn't much she could do about it at the present moment, and that irritated her even more. Her crimson head jerked up into an alert position when she heard the pained and frightened shrieks of her mother, senior queen Grenth, and she soon turned her attention on getting her rider to come as quickly as she could. Something's wrong, Alassiel! Quickly now, you're wasting far too much time!

The woman in question grumbled under her breath as she half-stumbled up to the red, glancing around the Weyrbowl in confusion. What was all the commotion about? Sure, Akahanath had told her that something was wrong, but surely it wasn't anything that bad, was it? That was when she really started to pay attention, truly noticed where it was they were all starting to congregate. Maai's weyr? Exactly what has happened to cause all of this chaos in the Weyr? Alassiel shook her head to clear her thoughts, hopping up to her dragon's shoulder and holding on as best as she could while the red took to the air, setting off in a glide towards the Weyrwoman's weyr. She wouldn't be able to land on the ledge, but Akahanath would be able to get close enough to spare her rider having to rush the entire journey across the 'Bowl.

Touching down as gently as she could, Akahanath immediately ducked into a crouch, allowing her rider an easier time of dismounting before having to continue onward. Hurry! There isn't any time to waste, the red urged the woman onward, nudging her sharply with her nose while she tried to determine exactly what she could do to help. It wasn't as if Grenth would pay any sort of attention to her, daughter of hers though she was, and there were other dragons crowding the weyr ledge already. The female dragon snorted her contempt at the thought of not being in any sort of control yet again and resigned herself to settling down in her spot. At the very least, she could offer her support to the gold as her rider's life hung in the balance, which was better than nothing at all.

Finally, after carefully winding her way through the growing crowd of people, throwing the occasional 'excuse me' or 'pardon me' every so often, Alassiel reached a point where she could look inside the weyr and at least get an idea of what was going on. She couldn't believe the whispers she had heard throughout the group as she had made her way forward. Harm coming to Maai? It seemed so unreal, so unlikely, that she simply had to see it with her own eyes. And there, now in front of her, was the horrible, painful truth of it all; Maai was indeed injured, harmed in her own bed while she slept! The redrider had to fight back the growl that threatened to rumble up from deep within her chest; to her, it was more than likely the scum at Southern that were behind this. After all, they were still going through a long-standing rivalry with Solace, and while she didn't understand the starting point of the feud, she wasn't about to condone anything she had heard the fools at the other Weyr were doing. No, they were undoubtedly behind this, and rest assured, they would pay. Akahanath's claws would drip with Southern ichor for what had transpired here, but as much as she hated to admit it, there was nothing more that she could do for her Weyrwoman other than promises of revenge.

[ricci]

Things were a haze as consciousness decided to return. Moreso than normal with her cold. Her head ached, and she knew right away in a way that only experience could bring that she had a concussion. Dragonriders were used to such things, and knew how to recognize the signs even in themselves. As she opened her eyes and looked at Mairin, she noted her younger sister's two noses and three eyes. But in spite of the pain in her head, the way her lungs burned from her fevering illness, she found herself at peace.

/No, no you don't!/ the Gold hissed in her ugly, high voice, unwilling or unable to filter away the rest of the Weyr. Everyone was privy to Grenth's thoughts, but Grenth found herself fighting to even find Maai's.

Things felt peaceful, though there was an odd tingling in her leg. She shifted slightly to make herself more comfortable, leg shifting oddly, and then losing the abiltiy to move her toes at all. Her lips were blue, and though she was breathing, oxygen was not reaching her cells. Whatever flowed through her blood had shut off her alveolial capillaries. In fact, her entire circulatory system was forgetting how to diffuse, how to osmose, how to function. Her muscles began to spasm, confused and aching as capillary beds ceased to be capillaries any longer. Vision began to fade.

"There..." she heaved a breath. Smooth muscle contracted, brachii forgot to remain open, cells strained in their attempts to remember their duties. Eccrine glands didn't do so badly, apparently, by the sweat that shone all over her body. She furrowed her brow, but it relaxed as her nerves began to fail to reach those muscles in a way that the muscles could understand. "Wher," She managed. It was Southern, she was certain of it, who else would have done such a thing? It was Southern, it was Southern. "Southern," she managed to say.

Grenth couldn't speak, her pancic had reached such a high that the Gold could no longer remember how to speak. In the same way that Maai's circulatory system was failing, so too were Grenth's mental processes.

She tried to look at Maai, tried to say something kind, but she couldn't. She didn't care anymore, though. It had been two minutes without air, though her lungs still pumped weakly. Her diaphragm would not last much longer, though. Her mitochondria were struggling, glucose wasn't entering her muscles, wasn't being broken down into pure chemical energy, and so her muscles lost their ability to move without their fuel.

Capillaries, venules, arterioles, veins, arteries...

Lungs failed.

Heart stopped.

Maai died.

---

Silence. Dead silence. White noise on the other line, emptiness, hollowness. Alone, she was alone.

/What do I do? What do I do? She's gone, she's gone, my lovely my sweet my precious is gone, my lovely my sweet my precious, she's gone. She's gone. Want to go. Want to join. Need to follow. Can't follow, children here. Want to follow,c an't follow, lost, lost, lost, lost, lost, lost, my lovely my sweet my precious is lost, I'm lost, we're lost, this whole disgusting place is lost lost lost. I'm lost, I'm lost, I'm lost. Who am I? Am I an I? My lovely my sweet my precious is gone, she's gone, gone, gone, she's gone, she's gone. I'm alone, I'm alone, can't be alone, alone not real, this not real, nothing real. Will kill, will kill, this nightmare, this nothing, no consequence, will kill, will kill, will kill. Blood, need blood, need wher blood, need human blood, need dragon blood. Watch children, watch children, mother mother mother, am I mother? I am mother, mother, mother, she's gone, she's gone, she's gone, can't follow, can't follow, my sweet my precious can't follow my lovely my sweet, can't follow.

Can't follow.

Can't follow.

Can't follow.../

And so her endless litany began.

[danaphantom]

An ugly screech escaped the wher as she writhed in Tariv's grasp. Hers... hers... she needed to stay with hers. But Grenth... Grenth said. The Queen commanded, and she must obey.

"Tarisk..." Tariv uttered, sensing her train of thought. The rest of the people milling around him were completely ignored as he tried to keep his Wher grounded. He could feel the battle in her mind, the need to obey the queen, the lack of information. The Green whined as she fought between two loyalties, wrestling against Tariv's grasp on her headknobs while wrestling against the inbred need to obey.

He thought he was winning when he heard it, a single word croaked by a dying Weyrwoman. Southern. NO! he commanded, manhandling Tarisk in an effort to further dominate her. But she had heard it. Southern. Southern must be where she must go. Evil, stinking Wher. Sharding, reeking, nasty... must get. Must kill. Southern.

"Tarisk!" Tariv shouted as she finally wrenched away, easily overcoming his strength. She keened the loss of Maai, the sound turning into a snarl of fury.

Save world. Come back. Love Mine.

The Green turned violet-speckled orange eyes on her Handler, before disappearing Between, destination unknown, source not found.

All Tariv could do was gawk at the space previously occupied by his lifemate.

[lredd011]

There were a few murmurs here and there among the group of concerned Weyrfolk, but mostly it was silent. As soon as Keeliah had arrived on the scene, it quickly became apparent that whatever had happened to Maai, there was little anyone could do for her. Whatever had transpired there in the Weyrwoman's quarters had happened all too easily. It was unsettling. Disturbing. Terrifying that harm could come to Maai so easily. And that meant harm had come to all of Solace Weyr.

Maai's sister, Mairin arrived on the scene shortly after Keeliah had arrived herself, and Keeliah fought to choke back a sob that threatened to escape her throat. She covered her mouth with a hand to hide her quivering bottom lip. Should Mairin be going in there? Surely someone else could handle things so she didn't have to see her sister this way...why hadn't a healer arrived yet? Wasn't there something someone could do?

The pale red dragon came to her rider's side, and placed her nose under Keeliah's free arm that hung limply at her side. She offered no words of reassurance. There was nothing that could be said. The reality of the situation rendered Lilith completely silent.

Grenth's thoughts were literally painful to listen to, cutting through Lilith's mind like a jagged knife. The last thing Lilith heard from Grenth was her pleading with Maai, no, demanding that she not die. And then...silence. Lilith's eyes became devoid of color, changing from yellow and red to a pale gray. Lilith released a single, low, mournful wall. Maai was gone.

Keeliah was hardly breathing as she stood motionless, staring into the darkness of Maai's weyr, waiting for any signs of movement from within. Her trance was disrupted by Lilith's wailing. Keeliah's own pale greyish blue eyes widened in horror. She glanced down at Lilith, everything being confirmed by the pain in her now grey whirling eyes. Keeliah shook her head slowly in denial and whispered, "No." Grenth, the eggs...what would happen to them? And some of the Candidates had only just arrived. What would they tell them?

Keeliah's attention was then turned to the Wherhandler and his green wher once more as they seemed to be caught in an intense struggle against one another. The wher broke free from Tariv's grip, snarling and quite suddenly disappearing from sight. It was clear the wher knew something about what had happened to Maai.

Keeliah approached Tariv slowly and gingerly placed a hand on the stunned man's shoulder. "Tariv?" she said softly at first. He was clearly in shock, the poor man. A little louder this time. "Tariv...what did Tarisk know? What happened to Maai? Who did this to Maai?"

She had a feeling she already knew the answer to her question. But the words needed to be said. And action would need to be taken. Keeliah was not a vengeful person by any means. But she was as loyal as they came, and harm had come to their Weyrwoman and to Solace Weyr. There was no compromise in this situation. In the end, someone was going to have to pay for this.