Striking Flint

Writers: Halyonix
Date Posted: 8th March 2026

Characters: E'rian
Description: Impression!
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 2, day 1 of Turn 13

He hated the pressure of Hatchings.

This was his...well, if he really wanted to count them all over the last five Turns, it would be in the double digits, but it wasn't the number that bothered him. It was the legacy that was watching from the Stands above him.

Tsaetherian looked up at the crowds, almost immediately finding his beaming father K'thyr and his uncle Th'alin. His father waved wildly. That was the legacy he was thinking about. His father was a dragonrider. His mother had been one. His uncle. His grandfather. Everyone in his family for generations back. Dragonsfall blood. A lineage he could trace into records that were illegible.

How did a teenager stand under the weight of that?

He had to. His little brother Tyakerian was on the Sands too. If Tsaetherian really wanted to give into his indecisiveness, he would have figured out a dozen reasons why not to be there that day but his brother being a Candidate too -- and a dragonrider family -- locked him into that pristine robe.

If Tsaetherian traced his doubts far enough, he could probably add a fear of letting Weyrleader K'valdran down to that list. Since K'valdran had become Weyrleader, Tsaetherian's father and uncle had been far more...well, themselves. It wasn't like I'serin had been a _bad_ Weyrleader -- he had just be inexperienced. But no one wanted to talk about that. Tsaetherian could only imagine what the pressure was like to be a _Weyrleader_. Probably a lot worse than what he was feeling then. No wonder I'serin had messed up.

**Please don't let me Impress a bronze,** he thought fiercely. He didn't want that responsibility. A brown dragon, that would be good. Browns were sturdy. Stable. Shells, blue or green -- anything but a bronze.

He knew that his father wouldn't have cared that he didn't want a bronze but it still felt like betrayal to wish for something other than the highest he could go.

As if to emphasize his fears, the first egg cracked to reveal a burnished bronze.

"Someone else, someone else," Tsaetherian whispered to himself when he saw the bronze hesitate. "Anyone else." His fists clenched, willing it to happen, because there were no other eggs hatching just yet and _everyone's_ focus was on that solitary, indecisive bronze.

Which is how he missed seeing _her_.

A sage green blur filled his vision, charging in from the left, just as he heard a voice jubilantly cry, }: E'rian! I found you! :{ He turned in time to stop her from crashing into him. Her mind was filled with absolute joy. Illuminating elation. Like she could light up the whole room with just her presence. }: I found you and I will never leave you. :{

She was a spark falling on the dry leaves of his indecisiveness, setting them aflame the moment her tiny head rested against the palm of his hand. She was a catalytic change, catapulting him from an uncertain future into the same bold legacy of his blood.

Inarayth.

She held herself like she was ready to charge into battle. Had she really just hatched from an egg? She bobbed her head, hearing his wonder. }: I had to get to you. I'm not like my siblings. They're all still...well, whatever they're doing. But I knew I wanted you. I had to get to you first. :{ Her little head pressed against his chest. }: Don't worry, E'rian. I wasn't going to let something as silly as a shell come between us. :{

Tomorrow he would wake with the realization that he was following in his mother's footsteps. Tomorrow he would wake with the gravity of the situation. Tomorrow he would wake with a new set of worries and indecisions.

But today, now, exultant that he had finally found his path, he found his father in the crowd again, and yelled, "Her name is Inarayth!"

Last updated on the April 1st 2026

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Striking Flint