To Be or Not To Be

Writers: Halyonix, Heather
Date Posted: 4th June 2025

Characters: M'yvak, Hesbia, Yasmeane
Description: M'yvak meets a surly Holdless, Hesbia. And she's Searched... kind of.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 6, day 9 of Turn 12

M'yvak

Hesbia

Yasmeane

Notes:
~*~

“Get this klah out to that rider waiting. It’s frigid out!” Someone
pressed a mug of klah in her hands despite her scowl. Hesbia didn’t
like being an errand girl. And there was always one of the Lower
Caverns women who thought they could boss her around like one of the
weyrbrats who should be doing menial tasks like delivering klah to
riders about to go on sweep.

“Get your own klah,” she muttered darkly even as she stamped out
towards the waiting bluerider. “Here,” she said as she practically
shoved the cup in his hands. “Someone said to give you this so you
don’t freeze.”

The hastily shoved klah sloshed over the sides of the cup and onto
M’yvak’s frozen fingers, causing him to hiss. “Blast,” he cursed,
holding the cup with one hand while shaking the other.

“Sorry,” Hesbia said unrepentantly. “Maybe they shouldn’t keep you out
here waiting. Far warmer inside.” She also wondered why he was
outside, huddled near his dragon. Were dragons that warm?

“I didn’t want to trek into the Dining Hall,” he pointed down to his
muddy boots, “and cause a mess for someone to clean up later. I’m just
trying to get some klah to warm up my innards before I head back out
on Search.”

“Search? Is that that thing where you find more people who want to be
dragonriders?” Hesbia asked cautiously.

M’yvak nodded as he cradled the hot mug in his hands. “That’s right.
We’ve been told to go in pairs ever since….” He trailed off. “Well,
anyway, my Search partner is in her weyr getting a warmer flying
jacket.”

Hesbia grunted. “You just…take people from the Holds and bring them
here?” She had no idea how Searching worked so she was using her
imagination. But that sounded a little close to kidnapping. “If they
say yes, I mean.”

“Not exactly,” M’yvak said, humored by the idea. “Typically, Pesrath
and I land at a Hold and whoever wants to come out and see him does.
While they’re petting him, which he takes as absolute worship, he
determines if any of them have Candidate potential.” He held up a
hand, as if to avoid a question he received a lot. “Don’t ask me the
exact specifics of how _that_ works, it’s a dragon thing. Anyway, I
give tokens,” he reached into his pocket and drew out one, “to anyone
he says should have one. What they do after that is up to them.”

“Weird,” Hesbia muttered. “Dragons know their names but don’t know how
they can determine potential. And you all just…believe it?”

“Oh, I suppose the dragons know how they do it. I think we humans are
the ones too dense to understand.” He winked and rapped on his head
with his knuckles. “What’s not to believe? It’s worked, hasn’t it?
Someone Searched me, I showed up on the Sands, and now I’ve got
Pesrath.”

Hesbia grunted, still not completely convinced. She thought back to
the conversation with Mesarian. “Searchriders don’t…take bribes or
something, do they?” she asked, wondering if maybe Mesarian had given
the greenrider some extra incentive. Going by an honor system for
something so life-changing seemed…foolish.

M’yvak’s brow furrowed a little. “I’ve heard rumors of some taking
bribes. They’re jerks if they do. It sullies the entire honor that one
should feel to be chosen by a dragon.”

She didn’t really think it was an honor but whatever.

So maybe Mesarian _had_ bribed the greenrider. It was a possibility at
least. According to what this guy was saying. “So, what, Pesrath just
looks at someone and tells you that person is good to go?”

“Basically,” M’yvak said. “He tells me they have ‘potential’ and
that’s what I tell them. Potential doesn’t always equal Impression, of
course.”

Of course there had to be a catch. “So you can get Searched, never get
a dragon, and then what? You…go home? You get kicked out?”

“If you don’t Impress you’ve got a few options. One, you stay and join
the Lower Caverns, working one of the jobs for the Headwoman. Two, you
stay and pick a craft to join and contribute that way. Or three, you
go back home, or on the road, or wherever you want.” M’yvak knew if he
hadn’t Impressed, he still would have stayed at the Weyr. He’d seen
some of the Holds and their attitudes towards men like him.

It matched what Oselle had told her. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t being
lied to. Good. She could work with that. Being a lowly kitchen worker
was better than scrounging for food.

Hesbia still didn’t understand what possessed her to ask the question
but she did: “So what does he say about me?”

Suddenly, the powder-blue dragon’s head swung about and then lowered
itself so that his round snout was directly in front of Hesbia.
Pesrath regarded the girl with whirling eyes that varied between blue
and green.

“You can touch him if you want,” M’yvak said.

Hesbia eyed the dragon with renewed distrust. “I’ll pass. He has big
teeth,” she said.

The dragon made an inquiring, plaintive noise which caused M’yvak to laugh.

“No one’s ever declined before. He’s offended, slightly, but says you
have the potential.” The Seaechrider thumped his dragon with a flat
hand, an affectionate gesture. “You could Stand for Impression, if you
wanted. Although, another Searchrider would have to agree with
Pesrath’s assessment.”

Her expression of distrust deepened. “That’s it? That’s all? You and
someone else’s word and I get a dragon? A shot at a dragon?” She
snorted. “I’ll pass. I’ve heard promises like that before. I’ll stick
to the kitchens.”

A lethal-looking blonde in a riding jacket stalked out. “You should at
least take this,” Yasmeane said, shoving a token at Hesbia. “Isaroth
agrees with Pesrath.”

Hesbia bristled at the approach. She stared at the token like it was
poison for a long moment, then swiped it from the greenrider’s hand.
She fingered it while she eyed the greenrider warily. “Fancy that,”
she said.

She wasn’t going to give them the pleasure of saying thank you though.

“Guess I better talk to Oselle then or something,” Hesbia said. The
Headwoman would probably want to know but Hesbia wasn’t going to rush
over and tell her. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to _do_ this.

“You do that,” Yasmeane answered. She didn’t care one way or another.
Impressing had been the worst thing to ever happen to her. Not
_Isaroth_. Isaroth was the best thing in her life, but Weyrlife was a
cruel mistress to a holdborn girl.

M’yvak could barely contain his exasperation at Yasmeane’s tone. Being
paired with her as she learned the role of a Searchrider had been the
most trying month of his life.

“It was nice meeting you, Hesbia,” M’yvak said, tipping his head at her.

The bluerider and greenrider walked back towards their dragons. A
faint hiss could be heard as Yasmeane whipped her head at M’yvak.
“What was that for?!” She rubbed her bicep where he had pinched her.

“For being a pest, that’s what it’s for,” and then their voices faded away.

Last updated on the June 10th 2025

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To Be or Not To Be