Both parents were surprised with the birth of their first child. Not only had he chosen a difficult time to be born but his entrance into the world was something that would never be forgotten.
Melodia sat at her desk, hunched over and intent on her work. Her shoulders ached but she ignored the pain for more prominent difficulties that had to be dealt with. Mystic had ordered a roster of Drakmor written up for the approaching council meeting. She wanted to know everyone who was nearby and exactly where they were. Luckily, the studious mage had already memorized all of her riders. She had wanted the record finished in a week's time. Melodia had stubbornly decided to finish it in a day.
The soft sounds of two sleeping dragons accompanied her husband's light snores from the other room. S'ron had gone to bed early, still fresh to the position of Junior Caretaker Second. He had first insisted that Melodia join him but soon given up as she stoutly refused. With a worried gaze, he'd left her to her work.
Only one dragon was actually asleep. Slowing her breaths until they were soft and even, Creesath, Melodia's white-gold, kept watch over her rider. She was small, though intelligent for an Old World dragon. Unlike other 'normal' Old World dragons, she could remember things that had happened long ago. The fact that her rider was now nine months pregnant seemed constantly prominent in her mind.
You should get some rest. The soft cream of Creesath's voice startled Melodia so much that she nearly toppled over in her chair. Only her over sized belly weighed her down enough.
"I'll rest in a minute, Cree. I have to finish this." Melodia replied in a strained voice. Her eyes were sunken black holes, reminding her bond painfully of all the sleepless nights Melodia had spent over the past week. She wasn�t as devoted to her work as Mystic, yet when sleep eluded her constantly, there was nothing else to be done.
You haven't been sleeping at all lately. Creesath sighed in defeat as she lowered her head to her forepaws again. Boku, Melodia's small, blue flit purred in his sleep and curled closer to the white-gold's side, oblivious of her concern for his owner. Three other flits were curled just as tightly next to the large bulk of the white-bronze who was Creesath's mate. It was the small white Kayota who woke first, a nervous hum rising in her throat.
Melodia stopped her writing, looking up curiously as S'ron's other two flits woke and joined their voices to Kayota's. Even Boku woke, attentive and worried, quickly moving over to huddle with the other three. All flits seemed to shiver in fright.
A sudden, ominous shriek filled the air, ringing through the silence of night and shattering calm. Multitudes of high-pitched, screeching voices followed the keening note; and all in the Warren knew what the grotesque song meant.
"Hydras." Melodia mouthed, her face draining of any colour it had previously held. S'ron hopped out of their sleeping chamber, still forcing his left leg into his pants.
"What's happening?" He asked in bewilderment. His gold-rimmed glasses sat askew on his face and his hair was a frenzied mess. Sploth rumbled, his eyes immediately red as he was jolted to full wakefulness.
We're under attack. The large, bronze-white spoke before anyone could move. He rumbled again, a deep warning in his throat as he pushed himself to his feet and lumbered towards the equipment racks.
"I have to help." Melodia breath, one hand on her stomach as she stood suddenly. She gasped and nearly fell again, catching herself on the edge of the table. With a deathly wild gaze, she looked up at Creesath and conveyed her crisis without any words.
S'ron, the baby's coming. You take care of Melodia. Sploth and I can fly alone. Creesath told both riders in a calm voice that didn't betray her sudden worry. Sploth was already moving out to the flight fields by the time she was finished. She followed him out, suppressing the tight knot of fear in her heart. They had never flown without their riders before.
"But-" S'ron began and was interrupted by an agonized cry from Melodia. He rushed to her side and supported her as she began to loose her footing. "It- it's ok, Melodia. I'll get you to the healing den." The young man swallowed quickly and looked around for his horde of flits. "Marren," he called the green, "go find E'rik. Tell him Melodia's having her baby." He enhanced the words with strong images of Melodia holding a squirming new child. When that flit took off, he turned to Celeste, the gold. "Find Mystic. Tell her Melodia and I can't fight." He repeated the image he had shown Marren then an image of Creesath and Sploth flying alone against the threat. With those two gone, Kayota and Boku flitted nervously around his head, creeling in fright.
Melodia cried out again, clutching her swollen stomach in both hands. S'ron had no more time to pay attention to the frantic firelizards as he lifted Melodia's arm over his shoulders and wrapped an arm firmly around her waist. With agonizing slowness, S'ron and Melodia began making the long trip towards the healing den.
* * * "Damn it! Why in the Nine Hells aren't the glows lit?" E'rik bellowed at the top of his lungs. Though normally meek and overlooked, he now drew attention to him like an imposing war general. Nenialith had already cleared the room, joining the other dragons in the Rescue Wing on stand-by. The reason for his sudden change in attitude was flitting above his head, shrieking at anyone she felt wasn't moving fast enough. E'rik's own white Alunana cooed to Marren, trying to sooth the green. She eventually managed to coax the flit towards the firelizard rafters and out of E'rik's war path.
With practiced efficiency and organization, E'rik had the whole of his staff ready to accept their newest patient. He half cursed Melodia's timing and half prayed that all of them made it through this night without much trouble.
When three more firelizards suddenly zoomed into the room and began screeching their existence, E'rik waved them towards where Alunana and Marren sat then motioned for three of his Hands to help S'ron bring Melodia in. He felt his heart clog his throat as the woman came through the entrance, bent over double and flushed with pain. Sweat dotted her forehead, causing her hair to cling in clumps to her drawn face. E'rik felt as if a part of his mind simply left as he helped the rider up to the operation table. Now was the time for concentration, not distracting thoughts.
S'ron gripped his wife's hand almost as tightly as she held his. Blue eyes held his dark brown ones, paralyzed with fear. Around him swirled a frenzy of movement. Hands running to and fro with E'rik's orders. The Healer himself encouraging Melodia to breath while preparing to help the birth. Outside were furious roars and cries of battle. Laced through his mind was his bond's view of the already blood soaked ground; and three Imperial hydras. None of this made it through to his conscious, nothing but Melodia's face.
Melodia screamed suddenly, a wild shriek that shattered any semblance of order. Her eyes glazed and she stopped responding to E'rik's commands. She seemed to tense convulsively and then went slack.
"No!" E'rik cried out, rushing around the table to take his patient's pulse and breath. He ignored S'ron's questions and the helpless looks of the men around him. What the hell is going on out there? He nearly screamed in Nenialith's mind. His skilled hands already set to work on reviving the non-breathing woman.
Creesath was hit badly. We're going to her now. The green replied with as much calm as she could muster. Her disembodied voice leaded no image of the battle scene, knowing it would distract her rider's work.
Hurry up! E'rik returned frantically. Melodia's stopped breathing and I can't find a pulse.
We have her. We're bringing her away from the battle.
Good. Keep her conscious.
But-
I have two patients that depend on her consciousness. If she so much as nods off for a minute, I might lose both of them. Keep her awake. E'rik gave his final command in a voice that left no room for questions. He cut the connection, knowing Nenialith would obey.
The Healer gave a choked gasp of relief as Melodia suddenly drew in a deep breath. He helped her recover for a moment before the contractions came again, faster then before. Melodia bit her lip to keep from crying out. A soothing hand touched her cheek, chilling the fire that burned in her veins. Something tasting of wood and sugary paste touched her mouth, forcing her to bite down on that instead of her lip.
"Keep going, Mel. You're almost there." E'rik encouraged. He kept one hand on the woman�s arm while one of his assistants tended to her head. She was given a stick to bite down on, least she bring more blood to her lips. The Healer swallowed another lump of unease as the head of the child was seen first.
S'ron watched the chaos erupt suddenly. Something happened to Melodia that made her lie still, too still. E'rik seemed to growl at something in his mind while working furiously to revive the mother-to-be. People rushed around him and voices echoed in his mind, none of it making sense.
He watched as E'rik moved away from Melodia's head and started to help birth the child. Melodia clenched his hand with unhuman strength, but he didn't notice the pain. With a sickly fascination, S'ron stared in awe as E'rik lifted the screaming babe in his arms and handed it to him.
The bronze-white rider held out his hands awkwardly, holding the squalling creature at arm's length. The child was warm and alive with a voice to rival a dragon's. His skin was pink and still wet from the birthing fluids. Only a light dusting of silvery locks touched his round head. S'ron could only gape in wonder. "It's- He's- He- he's-"
"Naked. Now give him here." A female Hand came up to him and gently took the child from his arms. Cooing to the small bundle of life, she cleaned him off, cut the umbilical cord, wrapped him in a blanket, and handed him back to the father. "Now you can stutter."
"What's happening?" Mystic's commanding voice snapped through the chaotic noise suddenly. S'ron turned to see the red-robed woman striding towards them, irritably waving off Hands who attempted to tend to the gash across her forehead. She stopped and looked worriedly from Melodia to S'ron to E'rik. S'ron was the first to speak.
"It's a boy." He breathed, a giant grin spread across his face from ear to ear. He laughed silently, looking down at the child in his arms, wrapped in a soft, blue blanket. Melodia was breathing normally again, still in a great deal of pain but alive. The hydras were dead or retreating, it didn't matter which. His child, his son, was squirming in his arms, healthy and strong. He handed the child to Melodia and looked up at Mystic again with the same, bewildered grin. "It's a boy."
* * * 15 years later...
"Mom! I'm going out for the night." The fifteen year old boy called out as quickly as he could, dashing for the flight field tunnel at the same time.
"Mmm-hmm. Take your brother with you." The blonde haired woman replied without so much as lifting her eyes from her work. She and her husband sat at their small work table, discussing and attempting to translate one of Mystic's most recent finds. The book was ancient and many of the words had been lost to aging. Yet, with S'ron's book lore and Melodia's literacy skills, they had made it half-way through already. The young man stopped and cursed, looking back at his parents.
"Aw, mom. I took him out yesterday. Besides, Riyan doesn't want to go, do you Ri?" He asked with a meaningful glance at his thirteen year old brother. The young, sour faced boy frowned and shook his head. "See?"
"Take him anyway, Andrel. You two need to spend time together." Melodia answered. She dipped her pen in the ink well and began scratching out a basic interpretation of one of the obscure sentences that had stuck them.
Andrelion, lovingly nick named Andrel, sighed in defeat and waved for his brother to follow. Fifteen years ago, his life hadn't been this care-free. While his mother and her bond recovered from an near-death experience, he had constant attention and the best medical care. Everyone had spoken of his birth in hushed voices and watched him as if he would shatter at any moment. The truth is, he shouldn't have survived.
Andrel shoved his hands into his pockets and turned his face to the sun, feeling the warm light envelop him. His skin was pale with a soft smattering of freckles he had received from his father. His eyes were a deep blue, almost black and shone with light like a night sky. He was of average height for a healthy boy his age and had only just begun to fill out with muscles. He would have been a normal boy, had his hair not turned out to be a pale, liquid silver. Neither of his parents could vouge for the exotic colour. Most believed it was a result of his unusual birth those many years ago. In any case, Andrel loved his 'uniqueness' and took great pride in keeping it in a loose braid which hung down nearly past his waist.
"What's the bag for?" Riyan asked suddenly, his young voice full of suspicion. His birth had been much more normal, so it was that Riyan often felt belittled around Andrel. He had the sandy brown hair of his father and his mother's sky blue eyes. Andrel's dark blue came from farther back in Melodia's line and was a very rare colour to see. Riyan was also short in stature and had the temperament of a proddy dragon.
Andrel cast a half-interested glance back at the bag slung over his shoulder then down at his brother. "I'm going camping. Damier and Letanri are organizing it and a whole bunch of fosterlings are coming along."
"Oh." Riyan looked down at the ground and lapsed into silence. He scuffed at the grass with the toe of his boot then glanced down towards the sparkling ocean. "I'm going for a swim. I'll be back before sunset." The second son of Melodia and S'ron took off before Andrel could get in another word. He didn't try anyway.
Shrugging off his brother's sudden absence, Andrel continued walking in a wavering line towards the back of the fields. That was where he was to meet with the rest of the camping group.
He adjusted his shoulder bag once, feeling the leather strap dig into the soft, fur-lining of his vest. He wore a black tunic beneath the deer hide jacket, one he had received from his father as a birthday present. The tunic was made of a light fabric with leather laces tying half way up the front and wide sleeves that ended in cuffs at his wrists. The cuffs were half hidden beneath the billowy material, making his torso seem as if he could be hiding some muscle beneath that shirt. His pants were made of a toughened riding leather, dyed rust red at his request. His boots were simple; black and knee high with a cuff at the top. A silver sash around his waist kept his shirt tucked in and any loose ends hidden. It also matched his silver hair quite nicely. Andrel smiled to himself, casting a gaze over the vast wealth of the tropical land that was the Warren. The trees that bordered the flight fields were twice his size around and more then a dragon's length high. The field itself was flat and covered in lush grass with a small, dirt track for O'lan's horses. A few dragons lay sunning themselves off to one side of the track, their wings extended to the mid-day warmth. One of the dragons, a gold and white beauty, glanced up at the young man's approach and bugled a greeting.
Hello, Andrel. Are you going to meet the campers? Creesath's silky voice touched his mind like a breath of sunlight on a forest floor. She had never made any pretenses of being able to talk only to her bond; no dragon of the Warren had. After Andrel's birth, she had grown quite attached to the silver haired boy and often spoke to him during her recovery. He had only been a baby then.
"Yep." Andrel replied with a sunny smile. "Damier said to meet after lunch and this is the soonest I could get out."
Is your mother still working on that book? The queen dragon laughed, knowing Andrel had an aversion for any kind of book lore. He was well skilled with reading and writing but found it mind-numbingly dull compared to his 'adventures'.
Andrel rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yes. She and dad won�t stop talking about it."
Creesath laughed again, a soft roll of joy deep in her throat. Be sure to tell me all about your adventures tomorrow. The dragoness winked knowingly. I won't be able to get any interesting conversation out of your mother for a while yet.
Another winning smile spread across Andrel�s face. He could charm anyone with his looks and often found a few tittering girls following him around. Especially when he smiled. "I'll tell you every detail." With that, the rider's son waved and continued on his chosen path towards the back of the fields.
The gathering was a small one, fourteen fosterlings plus Damier and Letanri. Each boy or girl was around Andrel's age and clustered together in groups as if their peers would protect them from the imagined dangers they would soon face. The two Liron/Tigra offspring stood at the head of the assembly, Letanri looking imposing and Damier taking down names.
"Ooookay... all we're missing is Andrel." Damier stated after a quick check over his list. Letanri would have managed details had her brother's writing been legible to anyone but himself. She glanced over his shoulder anyway.
"He said he might be detained by his chores. He'll be here soon." She replied with faith and a small hint of annoyance. The sun was making her hot and a thick coat of fur wasn't helping much.
"Speak of the devil." Damier grinned as he looked up from the sheet and spotted a quickly moving figure headed towards them. Andrel's distinct silver hair was what gave him away. The boy waved and both Liron/Tigra waved back, waiting patiently for him to catch up to the group.
"Hey. Sorry I'm late. Is Explosion coming along?" Andrel huffed, jogging up beside Damier. He placed his hands on his knees and breathed deeply, trying to catch his breath after a long run.
"No problem. Explosion will be along later." Damier thumped his friend's back heartily, nearly tossing him off his feet. Explosion was Damier's Fralamar whom he had bonded when he was three years old. Damier was now nearing his seventeenth birthday and Explosion was a known alibi in their tricks.
"Alright." Letanri turned to the assembled explorers and raised her voice enough to carry over their chatter. "Everyone's here and we've got a bit of a walk ahead of us. Does everyone have their sleeping roll?"
Fourteen fosterlings pointed to various bags, either neatly packed or hastily thrown together. Andrel lifted his own shoulder pack high enough to be seen then let it drop again. His own sleeping roll had seen many nights under the stars and the pack he carried it in was sturdy and made of toughened wher-hide. The others were here for an adventure and trip away from duties. Andrel was here because there was nothing he loved more.
"Let's move out!" Damier roared, his voice booming like thunder. He turned and gathered up his own pack before striding ahead of the crowd to lead the way with his sister. Andrel lagged behind, glancing hopefully about the fosterlings for anyone who seemed companionable. Unfortunately, most of those fostered off to the Warren were here for an attitude adjustment and felt quite out of place in the strange cavern. Thus, Andrel was an immediate target for jokes and taunts. Seeing nothing but mistrustful glares and nervous glances coming his way, Andrel shrugged and caught up with Damier.
The Liron/Tigra, though still young, was quickly maturing into a strong fighter and logical thinker. He stood at least head and shoulders above the tallest fosterling and his torse seemed as wide as some of the tree trunks. A short mohawk of white hair on his head foretold of the glossy mane that would cover his shoulders in less then a year. He wasn't an adult yet but he was responsible enough to be trusted with the lives of fifteen children. His sister, on the other hand, was far more mature for her age. She took after their mother in everything but looks. Even there she was more Liron then Tigra, having only a white-tipped tai, two white streaks under her eyes and a long, white pony tail. Letanri strode with purpose and determination, her black eyes focused on the road ahead. Damier was far more jovial in his step and happily slowed to walk in stride with Andrel.
"Doesn't look like many people back there like me." Andrel noted half-heartedly. He attempted to hide his disappointment with a smirk. He knew that their hatred of him stemmed from his unique looks and connections to the dragon riders.
"Don't worry about them." Damier's large paw came down to rest on Andrel's shoulder. "Us rider's sons got to stick together." The large cat-man flashed Andrel a bright smile, showing off rows of sharp fangs unintentionally.
"Sons?" Letanri questioned with a low note of suspicion. Though she acted indignant, a light smirk pulled at her feline lips.
"Children?" Damier corrected sheepishly. The dark Lironess chuckled deep in her throat and returned her eyes to the road ahead. Soon after, Damier and Andrel were interrupted in their quiet contemplations of adventures to come by Explosion's appearance. The multi-coloured winged wolf descended from the sky with a howl, nearly landing on top of his friend. The two wrestled for a minute before a disapproving growl from Letanri got both back on their feet. Andrel laughed and joked with the two cat-people and played along with Explosion. He didn't notice the jealous stares boring into his back as the walk continued.
Andrel is a candidate at: Falas Weyr