Magika and Company

* * *
I don’t know the rules on dedicating stories or personna’s, but here goes:
For Mystic, a fellow Weyrwoman, a best friend and my inspiration.

Teo Torriatte konomama iko...
Let us cling togther as the years go by...


* * *

Magika had a headache. She sighed and put her fingers to her temple. It was becoming a more and more common occurrence. Magika didn’t worry about it. She guessed that it was just part of life as a Weyrwoman. She dragged herself out of bed and to the Dining Hall. Media, the Headwoman, smiled when she saw the frazzled Weyrwoman.

"Rough hatching?" Media asked, putting a cup of k’lah in front of her.

Magika thankfully sipped her warm drink and closed her eyes. "How could you tell?"

Media laughed. "When you come down to the Dining Hall in the middle of the day in your shift, I take a wild guess."

Magika simply snorted and didn’t answer. She was the Weyrwoman, if she wanted to eat breakfast at noon in her pajamas she was entitled to do just that. She was entitled to a few....eccentrics.

Hyth laughed. You know, I’ve heard most Weyrwomen have some eccentrics, but getting drunk before a hatching and appearing at breakfast in their shift is not on the list of common ones.

Magika glared up. For some reason when she was bespeaking her dragon, and Hyth wasn’t present, Magika looked up. People in the Weyr knew she was talking to Hyth, others thought she was demanding something of some unknown god. Both were right. Why? Magika asked the ceiling/Hyth, Or better yet how. How did I end up here?

Hyth smiled. I knew you were hung-over yesterday, but can’t you even remember where you are?

Magika sighed and laid her head down on the table, muttering to her k’lah. Although Magika was in her thrities, (30 according to her, 35 according to Hyth and 33 according to Mystic), she acted more like an overgrown child than a dragon rider, much less a Weyrwoman. Most people who only briefly met the woman wondered how Adanuk Weyr ever stayed on it’s feet, much less prosper. They just didn’t know her well enough. Under a sarcastic, optimistic, immature exterior lurked a leader. Most people never figured that out though. Magika herself hadn’t figured that out yet. She most definitely wasn’t born a leader, that character trait had been ground into her over the hard course of her life.

Magika sighed again, picking her aching body up and dragging it back to her weyr to change into actual clothes. She was greeted at the door by Karina and Karia.

"Hey!" Magika said, as Karina landed on her shoulder and Karia creeled from her bed. Karina was her golden firelizard. She’d impressed the miniature queen a year after she’d impressed Hyth. The egg had been a present from a fellow queen rider. The woman had told Magika that she would need a little helper when she took on duties as a Jr. Weyrwoman. Magika had accepted the egg, but secretly vowed never to come anywhere near being a Weyrwoman. She didn’t like responsibility. So much for that plan...

Stop complaining. You have it easy. Adanuk’s small. Hyth yawned and removed her giant gold body from her dragon couch. The queen was tired as well. They’d returned late from a hatching at Mystic’s last night. Or was it the night before? Magika had had a lot to drink at the celebration afterwards. She’d needed it.

Magika’s tiny reason for drowning her troubles curled up in her lap the moment she sat down. Karina continued to perch happily on Magika’s shoulder while Magika rubbed Karia’s stomach. Karia was just a hatchling, only two or three days old, and a member of a nearly extinct race called draca. Everyone knew that the draca egg was going to hatch during the dragon hatching, but no one knew who Mystic planned on giving the rare creature too. Many people placed bets, and they all lost. No one could have predicted what had happened to land Magika with the tiny bronze draca, in fact, there were several reasons why Magika should not have been anywhere near the draca egg. Not the least of those reasons was the fact that Magika hated draca. She’d only had the pleasure of hating one draca, Hope, who just happened to be Karia’s mother. Hope and Magika had started off on the wrong foot, or hand as the case turned out to be. Magika, in an attempt to save Mystic from what she thought was a harmful creature, had taken a bad fall and broken her wrist. Hope, the so-called harmful creature, then thought that Magika was attacking Mystic and attacked the already injured Weyrwoman. Magika smiled to herself remembering. And thus started the long feud. She’d been 19 turns when that happened. Magika had been in a long term battle with the draca ever since. She hadn’t really wanted a draca of her own, but it’d almost been worth it to see the look on Hope’s face.

It had all been a horrible accident, at least that was Magika’s explanation for it. She was returning from the hatching by herself, wondering where everyone had got to when she saw Mystic’s pack. The pack that had been carrying the rather tasty and potent drink that both the Weyrwomen had dipped into the night before the hatching and that accounted for their moods during the hatching. Magika had simply, like a curious child, peeped in the pack to see if any more of the wonderful liquor was left when she’d heard a cracking. The draca egg was hatching. She’d yelled for people to come, but the only response she’d got was from Hope. The young draca, refusing to realize that her real owner wasn’t present, hatched right into Magika’s hands. Hope had literally passed out. Magika smiled to herself. So had Mystic.

Hyth sighed. You just have a knack for being at the wrong place at the right time. The Sr. Queen smiled. That’s been your lot in life ever since you were born.

Magika laughed out loud and dressed quickly. "I guess."

I’m serious. The gold swished her tail back and forth playfully while her eyes whirled a happy blue. Think about it, how did you meet Mystic?

Magika had to admit that Hyth had her there. The two old friends had met many, many turns ago when Magika was only 18 turns. The Weyrwoman had been born a drudge. She was an accident that her mother didn’t want. Magika had grown up wandering from Weyr to Weyr, Hold to Hold, stealing to keep herself alive. She’d become quite a good thief and a good talker; talents which she know praised as necessary to keep Adanuk Weyr running. She smiled remembering the first time she’d seen the annoying blond girl, who’d become her best friend.

Magika had scaled the wall to the Lord Holder’s house and was in the window before anyone noticed. She was doing this in broad daylight in the hopes that the family would be out. Instead of finding a guest room full of expensive things, Magika had found herself in the room of the Holder’s youngest and only daughter, Mystic. She’d quickly hushed the girl and tried to get away, unfortunately she didn’t get far. Outside the Lord Holder’s house she’d been caught and charged with thievery. She’d been sentenced to have both her hands cut off. At the ‘execution’, for with the primitive care she would receive after the punishment that’s what it was, Magika had thought quickly and found an unlikely accomplice, Mystic. She’d dragged the young girl into the discussion, claiming that Mystic was the one who helped her break into the Lord Holder’s place. In the confusion created by that statement, and Mystic’s ensuing temper tantrum, she’d grabbed her ‘accomplice’ and ran. They’d been together for almost 20 turns now. Magika smiled. It felt like a hundred.

"Magika!" It was Syna, the Jr. Weyrwoman who killed Magika’s daydreams of her past.

Magika came back to reality with a jump. "What?"

"Searchriders. Here." The young girl had obviously ran all the way from the Weyrbowl to Magika’s weyr to bring her the news.

Magika swore fluently and vividly, another talent she’d picked up from her early years, and ran out to the Weyrbowl, accompanied by Hyth. She was there just in time to greet the Searchrider before he began his search. She looked out across the Weyrbowl at the people standing there, waiting to see if the dragon would swoop them away. She smiled, greeted the Searchrider and bid him ‘have fun searching’. Glad I never had to do that.

Hyth raised a draconic eyebrow. Huh? What? The queen had been paying more attention to who was being searched than to what her rider was thinking about.

Stand around, praying to be searched. Magika leaned against her dragon’s side, feeling Hyth’s giant heart pounding beneath her back.

Of course you didn’t. If I recall your searching was another wrong time, right place wasn’t it?

Magika laughed, drawing the Searchrider’s attention. She waved him away and continued to snicker. I guess so. Magika had been searched at the unlikely age of 23, and hauled off to Sapphire Weyr. She’d been on the road with Mystic, Desu, Kork and Kiarra when a they’d heard a shriek from up ahead. A female blue-rider had been fighting for her life against some bandits. Magika, who’d never once in her life turned down a good fight (or a good drink for that matter), had helpfully joined the fight, only to end up stabbing the blue dragon, believing that the dragon was one of the assailants. She was searched none the less and left Mystic and co. for a year to become a dragon-rider. She didn’t know it at the time, but her small group of friends split up not long after that; Desu unfortunately had a bad encounter with some 'old friends' and got himself killed. Magika never forgave him for that. If there's one thing she can't stand it's missing a good fight and a good friend. Kork and Kiarra returned to their home village after that and Mystic left to impress her own lifemate.

Mystic was a born Weyrwoman. Magika thought to herself. She’d worked as a ‘Caretaker Second’ under Mystic for many a turn before venturing off to start her own weyr. The Warren, as Mystic’s Weyr was fondly known, had become too crowded and dragon’s were being moved off. Magika, suffering from a disease Mystic termed wanderlust, had gathered a small party which included, T’nir, Media, Syna, Celeste, K’rik and Takisha. They’d literally travelled until they found a nice spot where Magika stopped and pronounced it the site for Adanuk Weyr. She smiled. Lots of people had asked her what Adanuk was or meant. She had to laugh at them. She honestly didn’t know. It was the first word that popped into her head when she saw the piece of land that was now the Weyr. So Adanuk it was dubbed and Adanuk it has stood as for almost 6 turns. It was flighty decisions, like the naming of the Weyr, that left most people believing that Magika shouldn’t be a Weyrwoman.

Maybe if I had a partner, y’know a Weyrleader, I wouldn’t be so out of it all the time. Magika was teasing her dragon. The queen snorted and dismissed the topic, they’d settled that score and the queen was no longer testy about it.

Hyth, for some reason beyond all comprehension, had never flown. She was over 7 turns and had never even had an inkling towards a mating flight. Magika claimed it was because Hyth knew she couldn’t be caught. Hyth claimed it was because no man alive would have Magika. It was a long term argument that had finally been resolved, by the simple agreement between rider and dragon that neither of them really wanted a mate. Although Magika probably wasn’t qualified to be holding power of any kind, she like being a sole Weyrwoman. She didn’t want to share her ‘spot’ with anyone just because their dragon had managed to catch Hyth. If she was ever going to ‘settle down’ it would be with a person, not some lucky rider. Hyth happily agreed.

Magika smiled to herself. It’s not like I’m saving myself. She thought briefly of R’nd, her son at the Warren, and a few other fosterlings around Adanuk who bore an uncanny resemblance to the immature Weyrwoman. She could honestly say those occurrences had been merely for pleasure, she’d never been in love. She thought briefly of Mystic and her ‘prince charming’, Aaron. She wondered what that was like. Hyth sighed. Not much different from normal sex, if you ask me. Just more frequent. Magika smirked and held back her giggles. It wouldn’t do to disturb the Searchrider two times in as many minutes. Her thoughts left that topic alone for a moment and jumped to a new one.

The Weyrwoman started to wonder what made the blue dragon choose a few youths and completely ignore the others. Magika had never figured out what the blue dragon had seen in her at the time of her searching to assume that she would make a good rider. She’d been an adventurer, working for money, alcohol or food. She didn’t show any leadership potential or seem like an overly bright person, hell she wasn’t even organized at the time. She was drunk half the time and mostly drunk the other half. It was a miracle that she’d stayed on her feet long enough to be searched. She shook her memories off as she was forced to bid farewell to the Searchrider and several of Adanuk’s best and brightest. She walked by the sands to see how Succeth and her clutch were doing and stopped by for a quick visit with Media before continuing with her duties as Weyrwoman.

* * *

The sun was setting, the stars were appearing and Magika’s head was pounding. She was seriously starting to believe that migraines were part of the job description. The Weyrwoman finished lecturing Takisha, the Weyrling Master, on why she couldn’t kill some of her more troublesome students and decided to head over to Celeste to see if the Master Healer had anything for headaches.

"Magika!" Celeste was elbow deep in herbs. "What are you doing here?"

The over-grown child in Magika took over. "Celeste!" She whined and flung herself onto one of the cots. "I have a headache."

The healer smiled. "Really?"

Magika pouted and nodded her head slowly. "It hurts." She continued to act like a five-turn child. "A lot."

The healer gave Magika an odd look, but didn’t say anything. After all, she was the Weyrwoman and entitled to some....eccentrics. "I’ll give you something," She babied the older woman. "But it might taste nasty."

Magika peered up at the Master Healer from half-closed eyelids. "If it stops the pain, I’ll chew firestone."

Celeste laughed and disappeared for a moment. She reappeared with a cup of some foul-looking, foul-smelling concoction. Magika plugged her nose, closed her eyes and drank it. It tasted as bad as it smelled and, on top of that, she felt like she’d been thrown in cold water. "Agh."

"I warned you."

Magika sighed. "As long as it works."

Celeste laughed and sent Magika on her way, but not before giving her a sugar cookie and kissing her forehead. Magika smiled. Sometimes it was nice to be babied, especially when you’re old enough to enjoy it.

"Still causing healers no end of trouble, eh?"

Magika whirled to be greeted by the appearance of Mystic. She laughed and hugged her best friend. "Always. What are you doing here?"

Mystic grinned mischievously. "Wanna take a little trip?"

Magika narrowed her eyes. "Where?"

"Kiarra’s breaking in a new building. A bar."

Magika laughed. "I thought you didn’t drink."

"I don’t," The younger Weyrwoman smiled. "But if I didn’t tell you, what sort of friend would I be?"

Magika grinned, looked out across the Weyrbowl to her ‘office’. The candle was burning brightly in the window. There was nothing there that couldn’t be left until tomorrow. She turned back to Mystic. "I’ll get Hyth."

* * *

Magika laughed at all the odd looks she received from the other bar patrons. So what if she was singing louder than all of them? So what if she didn’t know all the words? So what if she didn’t even know the tune? Mystic was laughing at her, Hope was snarling, Kork was having a drinking contest with her (oblivious to the fact that she wasn't participating), Hyth was complaining and the bar tender seemed to want money. If anyone from Adanuk ever saw this she’d never live it down, but Magika didn’t care. She was having a good time, with good friends...and Hope.

Who cares what they think? Magika thought, not nearly as drunk as she was pretending to be. I’m a Weyrwoman. I’m entitled to certain....eccentrics.

You’ll have a headache tomorrow morning. Hyth helpfully reminded her rider.

So what? Magika laughed, buying another round of drinks. Headaches are just part of the job description. Right there beside, fun, challenging and worth-while.

Hyth smiled. Magika would never know it, but she’d answered one of her own questions. That was the attitude the Searchrider and injured blue had seen so long ago. Her unconscious determination and optimism, her stupid sarcasm, her love of a good challenge, her ability to turn disasters in trivialities and chaos into ..... more ordered chaos. Hyth grinned happily to herself. That’s why I chose you Magika. That’s why I made you a Weyrwoman.

What? Magika fuzzily asked her mount.

I said, Hyth snorted. One more round than I’m leaving, with or without you. You must be really drunk if you’re losing your hearing.

I’m never as drunk as you think I am. Magika smiled, clapped Mystic on the back and ordered another round. She didn’t press it further, she didn’t need too. She’d heard.

* * *

If you really liked Magika’s old story, you can read it here.
Magika impressed Hyth from Sapphire Weyr.
Magika impressed Karina at Sapphire Weyr.
Magika impressed Karia from Mystic Dragon’s Forest.