Authors: Sam & Merianna

Story: A New Start: 3 of 3

Series: Islinne Weyr

Characters: Mehlisah and Texath, Sahem, Mehas, J'ac and Hagenth, A'ron and Hotchneth, J'son and Gideonth, Jaemar

Setting: AU 10th pass: Islinne Weyr Territory

3380.10.25 (October 4, 1980); Ista Weyr

Mehlisah smiled as she checked her position. Looking back, she tried to judge the state of her passengers. Between could unnerve even the most seasoned of riders, and these two were by far not riders... yet.

Right behind her, apparently just as calm as before Between, sat Sahem. Sunlight glinted off his sand-colored curls and played over his tan features. He seemed perfectly calm, yet his knuckles were white from his hard grip on the riding straps.

Behind him sat Mehas, who was physically identical to his older brother in every way that Mehlisah could see. His mental state was apparently different though; Mehas was trying to see everything. He twisted every which way and barely held onto the straps.

Mehlisah was pleased; Texath had told her they’d be good riders. She agreed with her green dragon. Whereas Mehas seemed open to everything around him, Sahem appeared to have the self-discipline that was desired in any truly good rider.

Texath warned her rider and back-winged sharply, causing the boys to tighten their grip on the straps. They were landing quickly in the bowl of Ista Weyr. Colors played across the turquoise waters surrounding the beautiful, tropical island.

Landing neatly, Texath folded her wings and turned her beautiful minty green-colored head to glance up at the sky. Mehlisah slid off of her dragon’s neck, silently asking “What is it, Dear Heart?”

“Dragons come. I do not know them.”

Mehlisah laughed at Texath's perplexed tone. She assisted Sahem off of the green's back then looked skyward. Two dragons blinked in from Between, as yet too far away to determine their color. Mehlisah absently assisted the over-eager Mehas to the ground as she watched the visitors. Shading their eyes, the brothers joined Mehlisah in her vigil.

The two dragons swooped in slow, gentle circles, getting lower and lower in the afternoon sky. Mehlisah was just about to verbally claim both as browns when, suddenly, the sun broke through a cloud and glinted off of the dark bronze hide of one dragon.

A bronze and brown? Now, I wonder who'd be visiting here that Texath hasn't met before. Mehlisah didn't voice her questions, but they were answered anyway.

“No. Both are bronzes. They tell the watch who they are. Hagenth and Hotchneth of Islinne Weyr. I do not know them. They are young.”

Mehlisah laughed out loud, not sharing her dragon's excited response. Instead, she signaled for the boys to follow her as she went to find her Wingleader to report in from vacation.

“You’re young too, Texath. You're barely out of weyrling training!” Mehlisah glanced back over her shoulder at the landing Islinne pair. Before she could see any more, though, she was brought back to attention by her cousin Mehas.

"Are there eggs on the sands now?"

Sahem made a gesture Mehlisah didn't understand then spoke. "The Weyr doesn't need to have eggs on the sands to Search, Brother. They will keep candidates busy until a clutch is there."

Mehas smiled mischievously. "And when a clutch is on the sands, the candidates suddenly have nothing to do except to sit and stare at each other in intense boredom."

Sahem glared at Mehas for his impudence. "Please excuse him, Cousin Mehlisah. He's an imbecile."

Mehlisah signaled them both to be quiet, glad their argument had been forestalled by the location of her Wingleader. "Sir, I've returned from vacation. Here are my cousins, Mehas and Sahem... the boys I told you Texath wanted to Search."

3380.10.25 (October 4, 1980)

J’ac slid slowly off of Hagenth's bronze neck. He landed gently then leaned against his dragon, waiting for his friend to dismount. The sixteen turn old studied the Weyr he would now be calling home. It was surprising that the bandages, which had felt so hot in Islinne, actually helped warm him here at Ista. Perhaps it was because they’d just come from Between.

“What do you think, Hagenth?”

The bronze looked around the Weyr slowly then settled down. “She is watching me.”

J’ac looked around then realized Hagenth had been referring to the green dragon perched nearby. “Introduce yourself, Hagenth.”

A moment later, the bronze’s soft reply came. “Her name is Texath. Her rider is Mehlisah. She says ‘Welcome’.”

“Send our thanks.” J’ac felt better for knowing someone's name, even if he didn't know the rider's face yet.

A’ron came around bronze Hotchneth's neck, moving slowly enough that J’ac knew he was trying to adjust to the strange Weyr, too. "Hey, J’ac, we need to find the WeyrWoman. I still need to give her my transfer request."

J’ac looked at his friend, wishing that A’ron had been a little less obvious. The brownrider was often quiet and controlled, but he did have a habit of making the occasional over-obvious statement. J’ac normally didn't mind. Now, though, both J’ac and A’ron’s bronze Hotchneth were getting wary of the attention they were attracting.

3380.10.25 (October 04, 1980)

Mehlisah turned at the sound of the resonant baritone voice asking for the WeyrWoman. “I’ll bet he was a Theatrecrafter before Impression; he talks like one,” the green rider thought. She hoped her Wingleader would be too busy with her cousins to distract her from the coming scene.

“He is nervous. He is afraid! We will not hurt you...” Texath stood up and crooned gently in the direction of the new dragons and riders.

Mehlisah looked up sharply, forgetting to speak in her head. "Who's afraid? The brunet with the sexy voice?"

“No. Hotchneth. The bronze from Islinne.”

Mehlisah looked curiously at the pair who seemed to be quietly surveying all the people. Neither bronze seemed any more agitated than the other. "Why is he afraid, Texath?"

“I do not know.” A moment of silence passed then Texath responded vehemently, “He says everybody is staring. I will tell them to stop… Stop Staring!”

Mehlisah watched the reaction to Texath's message. She was especially interested in how the WeyrWoman would react when she and her gold got the message. The green rider scanned the people, trying to spot their pretty leader.

3380.10.25 (October 4, 1980)

"Uh oh. Hotchneth's getting nervous around these strange dragons." A’ron glanced around the Weyrbowl. His dragon only needed a few hours to adjust, and the WeyrlingMaster of Islinne Weyr had assured him the bronze would quickly outgrow the anxiety.

“I am not strange.” Hagenth told J’ac. J’ac passed the comment onto his older friend, who threw back his head and laughed.

"Hotchneth, no one's going to..."

“Stop staring!” The feminine dragon voice invaded their thoughts. Hotchneth's eyes whirled in surprise, and Hagenth turned his head towards green Texath.

J’ac put a reassuring hand on his bronze's neck, glancing over at the now blushing woman standing not far from them. He tapped A’ron on the arm and gestured in her direction. "I believe that's the rider."

A’ron smiled and headed in Mehlisah's direction. J’ac gave Hagenth one last pat and followed his eighteen turn old friend. Just as they got to the embarrassed Mehlisah, the younger blond boys stepped forward protectively.

"Don't touch my cousin, rider." Sahem spoke in a quiet, almost friendly, voice. His eyes were like flint, though. He wasn't smiling.

J’ac flipped his hair out of his eyes. A’ron grabbed his arm. "No fights, J’ac."

J’ac looked mildly surprised, turning to his friend. "I'm not going to fight, A’ron. He's not worth it."

Sahem's eyes flashed, his hands clenching. Mehas pressed closer to his older brother.

Before tempers could flare any further, a man of about twenty-seven turns strode into the crowd. He held onto the hand of a small boy who looked no more than six turns old. "All right, younglings, break it up."

He gestured to the blonds. "You two are candidates? Good, report to the Lower Caverns until you’re called. You..." he pointed at Mehlisah, "report to your Wingleader for your next duty." Whirling, he gestured to A’ron. "Go calm that bronze of yours. Take him to the lake." Glancing at J’ac he nodded. "You report to whomever it is you're supposed to be reporting to." His rich voice was calm, never raising above a normal conversational tone, but it held authority. Immediately the group moved to obey.

As the individuals he'd singled out went off to follow orders, the man turned to the gathered crowd. He didn't have to say a word; the majority of Weyrfolk left, sensing the disruption was over. Only a couple of people remained.

The man turned toward these last figures, noting the ranking chords they wore. Straightening, he nodded to them both. "My duty to you and your dragons. This is my son, Jaemar. J’son, rider of bronze Giedonth, formerly of Telgar Weyr, reporting. I've transferred here to assume the Weyrlingmaster position."