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Author Topic: The Flames Of Change  (Read 694 times)

Description: Backedated / Sigyn

Offline Melic

The Flames Of Change
« on: January 07, 2017, 01:25:54 AM »
504 AL

Rukbat hung heavily over Woodriver cothold. It would be setting within an hour or so, plunging the area into darkness. That said, even the night wasn't really dark most of the time. The moons and stars made the night more silver than black most of the time. It was lovely to watch shimmer through the branches of the trees that surrounded the cothold. There was no denying that this isolated little corner on the edge of High Reaches was beautiful. However, the clouds gathering in the sky threatened to plunge it into overcast, making it harder to see that beauty.

At least there would be no pain. The past few days had been uncomfortably hot and that night was no exception.

His shoes made a clacking noise as he walked down the hall from his room. It was a satisfying noise in that it was a noise. It was something that would draw people's attention toward him by screaming out, 'look at me, over here! I exist!' That wasn't to say that Vanaris didn't already do enough of that himself with his outgoing nature and penchant for the luxurious. Still, there was no such thing as too much attention, was there? He didn't think so. That was one of the reasons he liked dinner; it was an opportunity to talk loudly to people without being 'rude' or an 'overblown attention hog'. (Thanks, Solavis.)

He had just reached the entrance to the dining hall when the racket started. Vanaris stopped in his steps, curiosity twining in his stomach. It was a little louder than the more spirited group dinners usually were. Not to mention that it also seemed to be coming from the... kitchens? Whatever was going on, it sounded lively. No, that wasn't the word. Lively? Angry? Is there a fight? The thought had barely arrived formed before the word he was looking for popped into his mind. Those weren't the right emotions at all.

Fear. Fear was what he was hearing.

Within a matter of seconds, the voices rose into an all-out scream. That was when one word fought its way out of the jumble. One sickening word that would send the hold into hysteria and signify the end of everything he knew. "Fire!" The call made Vanaris stumble back, eyes wide with alarm. People were running out now, pushing past him, screaming, and shoving. Well... some were. A few. Two were limping and coughing. One collapsed on the floor.

It was strange how someone could feel like their heart was going to give out and numb at the same time. It should be totally impossible. Yet that was how he felt as he inched toward the fallen person, one hand hesitantly outstretched and so many questions fighting for control of his lips. There were so many questions to be asked, but his shocked mind could only think of one. Weren't there more people back there? Heavy black smoke began to reach out of the area the fearful holders had fled from and curl above his head.

From the outside of the hold, one could see the first tongues of flames work their way out of part of the wall. It looked like the sky wouldn't be dark tonight after all.
« Last Edit: January 07, 2017, 01:50:03 AM by Melic »

Offline Wingleader J'tir

Re: The Flames Of Change
« Reply #1 on: January 16, 2017, 06:28:15 PM »
The Harper man caught a scent on the wind as he was leading the children back to the cothold under his tutelage. The structure was wooden and the man could only guess that the person who had built it was a dimglow of the highest caliber. There weren’t many in his little class, but they were all young and he didn’t want to panic them. He was turning to encourage them back toward the wilderness where he had shown them common medicinal plants they could use for common ailments when they heard the shout of, “Fire!” from within the cothold.

Some of the children gasped, their faces crumbling. They wanted to go to their families. They wanted their possessions, their pets. While he tried to calm the group at large… one snuck off, running toward the Cothold before he could stop her. The man’s face fell. There was nothing to be done for her now…

Iyrienna ran as fast as her injury allowed her, limping away from the cothold and sobbing. Who had that been in their home? Who had died? She couldn’t find her family anywhere. Had they left her? She was all alone…

Blackness tugged at her vision, her head clouding and breathing growing heavier as she finally allowed herself to collapse within the cover of the trees, the wind blowing the smoke back the way she had come instead of toward her… finally, the little girl gave in to the sweet silence and closed her eyes…

Wingleader J'tir
Vleyth and J’tir got the message from their Weyrwoman and the Sunseekers abandoned their drill and turned toward the cothold burning in the High Reaches Hold territory. With no rider at the fire and the message coming through the drums, the bronzerider had little hope of reaching the cothold in time to do anything for it. The wing blinked between to the main Hold and scouted the area surrounding it until one pair managed to find the burning cothold and image it to the rest.

From all around the territory dragonriders blinked into the skies above the flames and as one took in the devastation there. How long ago had the call to for help been sent? Why was it so delayed through the drums that this much burning had happened? It appeared as though most of the cotholders had gotten away if they could… those who couldn’t would be cremated in the flames by now.

J’tir scrubbed a hand over his face and called for a meeting on the ground. “Right, there isn’t much we can do about saving the cothold at this point.” He pointed to four riders, “I want you four to fly over and have your dragons look for signs of life with their senses. You are the ones who do Searches so this is a good place for you.” Next he turned to another small contingent, “The five of you will scour the areas around the cothold and look for the groups of survivors. Take them to High Reaches Hold and let the Lord Holder know that there has been a fire in his territory and that they need new homes.” Another group he set to digging a trench around the area so that the fire would stop instead of spreading through the ground cover. “Last group, and I’ll be joining you… we’ll look for any injured and surviving people who may be around the burning buildings or deeper into the cothold. It will be dangerous, so please go out in teams of two to watch each other’s backs. If you find any bodies, give them a rider’s honors. Take them between and return them to Faranth.”

Everyone dispersed to their tasks and J’tir and his team paired off. It was time for himself and R’myr to scour their part of the cothold. They split their section and started peering into homes where they could, avoiding the flames and falling wooden beams. Who ever thought building a cothold of wood was clearly delusion about the return of thread. The bronzerider scoffed. Idiot.

The man peeked into the burning doorway of a house, seeing a body near a fallen beam. The fire seemed to have moved away from it and J’tir put on his gloves, bringing Vleyth to the outskirts away from the flames. After wrapping his scarf around his face, the man entered the home and checked for signs of life before lifting it bodily against him and handing it to his dragon. “May your life have been full of joy and your death an easy one. Return to the dark of between and let Faranth comfort you.” With those words, he asked the bronze dragon to take the body between and saluted as Vleyth took to the air.

Looking around him, J’tir also noticed a set of dusty, charred-ash footprints small enough to belong to a child. Curious, as they seemed to be freshly made, he followed them to a small clearing. Apparently blacked out and injured he was faced with the form of a young girl, her arm and thigh burned. She needs a Healer, Vleyth. he told his dragon as the bronze winked back in without the body of the cotholder.

J’tir conferred with R’myr and Vleyth told the rest of the wing where they were going. Together, the bluerider and bronzerider secured the injured girl with straps and J’tir’s arm around her and brought her to the Weyr’s infirmary.

Iyrienna felt herself being lifted. She was moving... her eyes cracked open and she saw a man before she fell back into the darkness.

... cold, so cold...

More movement? What was happening?

Low voices... burns... hurts! Why do I hurt?

Cool... bitter... Swallow? I can swallow... The voices were low in her ears again as she drifted with her eyes closed.

"They need to heal... she'll be in a lot of pain, J'tir." A woman's voice. Who was J'tir? "Where is her family? Did they survive?"

Panic shot through her, where was her family? And then the darkness took her again...


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