Time After Time {PURNS!!!}

A shadow passed overhead and Tedaon opened his eyes to look skywards. He spotted the shape of a blue flying overhead. Having been a Dragonrider for many years he was able to identify most dragons on size and general shape alone but this particular blue had a hide that could not be mistaken as any other colour like some of the greens and cyans. It brought him to noticing something else. He was not as alone as he thought he had been in the lake area.

Frowning, he looked over to see a green dragon about halfway around the bank from him. He’d hoped he would be free from company for at least a short while. Then again, he wasn’t all that close to the rider. Surveying the situation a little more closely he noticed something familiar about the female rider. He knew only a couple of greenriders only one of whom he knew as a female.

Rhysia? The young, slightly awkward young Rider who had turned up in the infirmary what seemed like a whole turn ago? With all that had happened in the past few seasons Tedaon had barely had any time to see those few Riders he had met and spoken with in the infirmary. Most of them had also been rather busy with their own duties. Just as he had!

Did he want to go over there? Deciding he might as well ask the female how she was he shrugged and got to his feet, rubbing his face tiredly suddenly aware just how messy he must have looked. Brushing himself off in an attempt to look slightly more presentable he made his way over to the female.

“Wingrider Rhysia, I hope I find you well. And this must be Raeterith?”

He nodded his respect to the green aware that he had probably just awoken the two of them from a sleep. He knew how much he loathed being awoken but he figured she was probably a little less of a grump than he.

The voice echoed in his mind and he stared at the Green for a long moment before forcing a smile and nodding. It was good, no, great to hear the voice of a dragon in his mind! He had always found it truly wonderful to hear the voices of other dragons. They were almost musical when put together in unison. Diasith needed only contribute his baritone and they may just have their very own choir. Unfortunately, he could only assume the black was sleeping. Perhaps Diasith would awaken later but they had just been out for a fly.

Yes, they had been out for a fly, T’aon and his black Diasith…

Tedaon loved it even more when he felt that the dragon speaking with him rarely spoke to others. The voice of a queen before a hatching was nice enough but when a dragon spoke specifically to him he felt truly blessed, even if he himself was a Rider.

His smile was fixed to his face as though someone had screwed it in place as he looked between Rider and Dragon. It did not even falter when she didn’t seem to remember his name. In all honesty, he probably didn’t even notice so accustomed was he to treating patients and then being forgotten. Such was the life of a healer. Most wished only to put pain behind them and not remember it. He, on the other hand, considered it important to remember and learn from pain. It was the only way to keep mistakes from happening again.

“Well, he’s asleep at the moment and has been a little lazy of late, unfortunately, but I blame myself for spending too much time in the infirmary,” he laughed perhaps too loudly, “But I would try to convince him to come out and enjoy the sunshine if he didn’t worry about becoming too hot. He is a black, after all.”

Nodding firmly he decided to change topic, “I assume the injury is treating you well? Was it your ankle?”

Tedaon was just as surprised as anyone when the dragon not only continued to speak with him but also use his name. A dragon had actually spoken his name! One that wasn’t Diasith. This was truly an amazing moment in his life. Not even Larth, his brother’s dragon, had actually spoken his name for it was simply not something dragons did unless they greatly respected the one about whom they spoke.

The knowledge that Raeterith not only respected him enough to speak with him but to also use his name brightened Tedaon’s smile into something more of a real one. He wanted to show the Green the same amount of respect but had No way to do so except pay his respects and treat her well if she ever came under his care. Hopefully that would never happen but with Threadfall only a short season away it was possible.

“Yes indeed, perhaps the snow will make him more inclined to spend time outdoors.”

He nodded at the green with a broad, almost real grin and then turned back to her Rider. His grin did not falter as she complimented him. Truth be told he supposed it was simply because he was a healer that Raeterith was speaking with him and being so respectful. Not quite knowing what to say he just chuckled as she answered his question.

Ah yes, he remembered now, her arm. He’d received a number of people with ankle injuries of some description all around the same time and had simply assumed she was one of these people also. Well, it was great to hear that her arm had healed up so well. It was obviously not giving her any difficulties.

“That is great to hear, as for Thread I hope so. I mean, we can’t ever truly be ready for it having never faced it but at least we have a great amount of supplies for it. I suspect as we get closer to Threadfall you’ll be awoken by the smell of numbweed being prepared.”

He wrinkled his nose to reflect his distaste of the smell. Despite that he knew how important it was for them to have numbweed. When Thread fell, he would spend his time on the ground, healing those who would undoubtedly need it, for that was where he was most needed.

Tedaon knew that the dragons understood Threadfall and shared the instincts of their ancestors, as Raeterith said, but their Riders were a different story. He supposed nothing would ever prepare someone to fight for their lives. It was not a simple matter of just flying out there and burning Thread as it fell but it was also a matter of working together and flying together. Each dragon would, no doubt, find it difficult to fly into harm’s way for the sake of another dragon. Especially if it put their rider in harm’s way.

“The Weyrlingmasters here know what they’re talking about at least so that’s a good sign. And, as Raeterith says, the dragons know what they’re doing instinctively it’s just the drills that will make it easier for them.”

Nodding, he glanced back at the Green. There was so much they could only really guess about Thread and how the dragons would be able to react to Threadfall. When he and Diasith had been candidate masters it had certainly been interesting enough to study all the old records in Telgar Weyr for information to pass onto the candidates and, to some extent, Weyrlings.

The biggest thing about Thread was that it would be unknown to most of the Riders fighting. It was an ominous sort of threat to look skywards and see the red star overhead threatening to destroy them in only one short season. Like Rhysia had said, the healers would have to be well prepared and no doubt everyday would be filled with the fumes of numbweed being prepared. He wasn’t a fan of the smell but still understood how necessary it was… Just as they all did.

“Why, yes I remember,” He sounded surprised, “Well, the Wher hatching was certainly the most worrisome of the two but we had a couple of hatchlings in need of a patch up.”

Including a poor little black… Other than that it had certainly been one of the better hatchings he had witnessed. There were certainly a great number of worse hatchings to have occurred.

Tedaon had attended so many hatchings that they all seemed to blur together. Of course, Diasith’s would always remain imprinted in his memory despite how many blacks he saw hatch onto the sands but beyond that he certainly forgot the precise events of many. Of course, he was probably unlikely to forget about the Wher hatching for quite some time to come. He couldn’t recall whether he had ever attended a hatching, as a healer or otherwise, where a candidate had been killed. Wher hatchings were certainly the more volatile of the two. As much as he disliked seeing death at hatchings he also loved watching them far too much to stay away.

He suspected there were many others like himself who were drawn to those events, which most affected them. Like a hatching. There was no doubt about it he would attend the next hatching and the one after that, no matter how frustrated it made him feel as both healer and rider. Primarily as a healer of course.

It was a good question she had asked him. He had no idea! There were so many things he could do in this time but most of that would simply be taken up by his duties to the Weyr as a healer.

“Well, I suppose a lot of my time will be spent with Diasith… I will of course attend the next hatching. I hear that will be soon.”

The hatching and speculation over what their youngest queen would clutch would no doubt take up a lot of his time. Especially if he happened to be healing some of the candidates. Many of them talked of one thing and one thing only. Which dragon would rise and clutch next.