New Reality
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Halyonix, Heather
Date Posted: 12th August 2025
Characters: M'kall, F'ren, Saibra, I'serin, F'ren
Description: M'kall and F'ren find A'len's body
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 7, day 22 of Turn 12
Mentioned:
Notes:
~*~
The only warning M’kall received was a light dusting of snow before something large and heavy thumped with awful finality on the path in front of him, blocking it. Before a dragon screamed in bleak despair, and the whole Weyr began their keening chorus.
The bronzerider crouched in reflex as he looked up, scanning the cliffside for another falling rock. The keen of dragons reverberated in the semi-circle of cliffs, creating a wild cacophony of noise that was practically deafening.
Hands over his ears, M’kall squinted ahead, and his brain began making quick realizations.
It wasn’t a rock that had fallen.
It was a body.
Not just _any_ body.
It was A’len.
“Oh, f-” Chioneth’s sharp bugle drowned out the rest of his expletive as she reined in the flightier, young dragons.
“A’len!” M’kall crashed to his knees beside the battered and torn body of the bronzerider. His hands hovered over A’len’s crumpled form as if he were searching for what he might do to help. But there was nothing. Nothing to be done. No way to help.
He stared down at his friend in shock. It was true, A’len was an ass ninety-five percent of the time, but they’d known each other for decades. Watched each other’s backs in Threadfall since the start of the Pass. Made tough decisions during lean times of the Interval as Wingleaders at River Bluff.
Now it was all gone. All over.
**Sanderveth,** he called to his dragon, punching through the veil of grief that shrouded his bronze lifemate. **I’ll need help. Help getting his body inside. His son shouldn’t have to see him this way.**
Sanderveth reached out to a familiar bronze from River Bluff.
“Jays,” F’ren gasped, sucking in a breath as he drew up beside M’kall. “When Aloroth said it was Tirenth who had gone /between/… I didn’t imagine… How did he?” The Plateau Wingleader glanced up at the icy cliffs of Dragonsfall.
“Help me carry him to the infirmary. Before I’serin sees. He’ll be on his way.” M’kall was not allowing himself to consider anything else in the moment. He had to lock his feelings up tight, keep a level head, and do what he could.
F’ren and M’kall lifted the broken body of the fallen bronzerider and carried him to the infirmary.
--
When Saibra arrived at the infirmary, her normally lively face was pale, her lips drawn into a thin line. She stood beside I’serin.
The young Weyrleader looked pale and shaken.
“He…_fell_ right on the ground in front of me,” M’kall was saying, sounding dazed. “F’ren and I brought him here.”
Saibra’s eyes flicked to the curtain behind the veteran bronzerider, knowing that on it they would find the body of A’len.
I’serin wanted to scream that he was not ready for this. He would never be ready for this. _Nothing_ in the diaries and records of past Weyrleaders had prepared him for something like this. He numbly held on to Aluneth’s mental comfort as his trembling hand reached to part the curtain.
His eyes saw a body but he did not see it as his father. “You s-said he fell right in front of you?” I’serin asked in a faraway voice.
“Yes, Weyrleader,” M’kall said, his tone soft but firm. His emotions were now firmly in hand. He had many, many Turns of dealing with loss to help him.
“Did you hear anything? Before…?” Saibra asked, staring at the broken body on the table.
“No, ma’am. Before I could even process anything, the dragons started keening.”
It fit with I’serin’s experience as well. He had just settled in for a quiet evening when the dragons started keening. To have fallen though… I’serin turned to F’ren. “Search the heights, please. See…see if you can find anything.” Anything that would explain what had happened.
Because I’serin could not fathom _why_ his father was dead.
As F’ren carried out his request, I’serin stepped forward towards the body. **I cannot do this,** he thought numbly.
}: And yet you must, :{ Aluneth answered grimly. And so his rider took another step forward, and another, until he was within touching distance. His hand shook as he placed one on A’len’s arm, feeling that unnerving rigid cold beneath the tunic. Impossible. It was impossible that his father was dead. Reality had to be incorrect. This must be the most awful dream his mind could conjure up.
}: I’serin, :{ Aluneth crooned, slicing through the denial that eddied around his rider’s mind.
Saibra wrapped a warm hand around I’serin’s forearm, offering him silent support. She had never known her father or mother, but she had lost her first weyrmate, Saidrene and Ki’ben’s father. She was not a stranger to loss, but neither did she have words that she felt could help.
“Would you like some privacy to say your goodbyes?” she asked softly.
“No,” he whispered. He had to be Weyrleader first. He could be son later. It wrenched his heart to think of how he was going to deliver this news to his mother. “I…have to believe that this…this was an a-accident. I…had told him e-earlier today that he was to b-be transferred. I…” It had to have been an accident. A’len did not come across to _anyone_ that he was suicidal. Or…was there something that I’serin did not know?
It made sense to Saibra, the scene that was beginning to develop. A bronzerider like A’len, who had always been a leader amongst his peers at River Bluff, now essentially being demoted by his son to another Weyr. Upset. It would have been easy to slip on the cliffsides that he would not know as well as those born at Dragonsfall.
There was a long silence from I’serin. “Saibra,” he said very softly, in the tone of someone who was presented with insurmountable odds, “what are we going to tell the Weyr?”
“That there was an accident. That people need to be careful on the icy cliffs,” was the Weyrwoman’s answer.
It sounded so clinical, so cold when she said it that way. A hard, inescapable truth that presented all of the facts but none of the human connections to those facts. As Weyrleader, he was not allowed to hide from the news -- the Weyr had to know. I’serin could only imagine delivering that message, his voice detached in order to keep from breaking down. “W-Will you stand with me when…”
“Of course,” Saibra answered.
The Plateau Wingleader returned, his cheeks reddened from the wind. “I found this up on the heights.” F’ren held up a wineskin. “And only one set of footprints. A’len’s.”
I’serin felt himself deflate. He had been hoping for some explanation -- anything that would have given him concrete answers -- other than a mishap on icy rocks. His father had always seemed so indomitable, invincible. To have met his demise because he lost his footing…
}: It is the reality we must move forward with, :{ Aluneth said softly.
The Weyrleader of Dragonsfall Weyr closed his eyes to keep tears from falling. “Then that is all,” he said cryptically. He opened his eyes and looked at F’ren and M’kall. “I…thank you. For…” For bringing A’len here. For doing more than their duty. “...being here.”
F’ren’s head bobbed quickly. “Of course, Weyrleader.”
“If you need anything else, Weyrleader, we’re at your call.” M’kall nodded to the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, and then retreated with F’ren out of the infirmary.
Last updated on the August 29th 2025