Firsts, Seconds, and Lasts

Writers: Iluva, Yvonne
Date Posted: 9th September 2026

Characters: Tsaera, Agyta
Description: Tsaera briefs her successor on the Weyr's recent history -- and Agyta wants more than an update
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 2, day 26 of Turn 13
Notes: Mentioned: Oselle, K'valdran, Saibra, Ashela, Sybana

Tsaera sat in the quiet of her office, breathing the scent of ink and hide and leather. She scanned the map pinned to the wall opposite and the bookshelf, now tidied of her rock pick hammer, telescopes, and the small piles of stones that her flit Agate had brought her as gifts.

Saibra choosing a new, permanent Second was a good thing. A natural thing. And yet, it was still hard to let go of the office and the weyr she’d grown accustomed to. It felt good to be useful. Tabanirth didn’t rise any longer and she was well over seventy Turns, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be of service.

**It is a good thing,** she reminded herself. No more aching bones and exhaustion after each ‘Fall. No more late nights and hidework. **A good thing.**

She rose at the knock at the door. “Agyta. Come in.”

“Good morning, Tsaera.” Agyta smiled, shutting the door lightly and crossing to the desk in long, measured strides. The space was certainly larger than her office at Rising Moons, and she cast only a short glance around, unlike Valbath, who inspected every corner and line like it owed her marks. “I thought I’d check in while I’m still getting the lay of the land. I've been making a nuisance of myself in the lower caverns and would love your honest assessment of Oselle.”

“I don’t think much gets by her,” Tsaera admitted. “Oselle is best left to her own devices. She’ll deal with most things herself before bothering you or Saibra. The Kitchens like her. Be prepared to taste test some… ah, well, she encourages them to experiment.”

“Oh?” Agyta's interest piqued a little more, though she pressed for neither details nor examples. That kind of surprise was part of the fun. “I'll look forward to that. I do like her already-- she runs a tight operation. Though I’ll be hearing my daughters’ thoughts on her over the next few days.” But knowing her daughters, it would be longer. Her nose was wrinkled up with amusement, her head tilting toward an open chair, a silent question there. Agyta sat, at once straight-backed and comfortably at ease.

“There have been so many changes this past turn.” She paused. “How are things sitting since K’valdran’s taken the knots?”

Tsaera’s eyes flicked to the door to double check it was closed. “K’valdran is a good leader in Thread and the wingriders like him for that. He’s also from Dragonsfall Weyr. I’m sure that you’ve heard that there are… many who are pleased by it.” Especially all the Dragonsfall men wearing new knots.

Agyta nodded. “A few of them were quite vocal about it when I asked. I'm tempted to say obnoxious, actually-- though in a Weyr as ancient as Dragonsfall that sentiment must run deep.” And understandably, so. She smiled slightly, one long leg crossing over the other. “I've called a few Weyrs home myself. It's given me less emphasis on place, more on purpose.” The records had also shown a sharp dip in injuries since the changeover, and Tsaera's analysis had confirmed as much. “Trust in his abilities seems to be paramount, anyway. No doubt that's helped, regardless of where K’valdran’s from.”

“Mmm. That trust is certainly appreciated.” Tsaera hesitated. “I wouldn’t have left River Bluff when Tabanirth stopped rising if it wasn’t what was best for the Weyr. I doubt that many of my riders here would have left either, if they hadn’t had to. Change can be hard when you’ve put down roots.”

“That’s true,” Agyta said. “Even a chance for something new is not without mixed feelings. We don’t always get to choose the when, or the how, much less the why." After a brief silence she added, "My mate was from River Bluff. T'mele. He spoke of it fondly.” Her expression softened almost imperceptibly for a moment, and then it was gone. “Most of the Bluff riders we absorbed did.”

“T’mele was a good man. I was sorry to hear of his passing,” Tsaera said quietly. They’d lost so many.

}:He was,:{ Valbath said, only to Agyta. “Thank you,” she said, just a touch quieter. “Have you thought at all about what you'll do now? For purely selfish reasons, I’d love for you to stay and I can pick your brain. The Weyr would too-- I think you know that.”

Tsaera shrugged, although Agyta’s flattery hit its mark. It felt _good_ to be needed. “I am… well. I am at your disposal. What is best for the Weyr is what I want.”

“I'm glad.” On that note, like a canine with a bone, Agyta said, “Because I do wonder. K’valdran shuffled a large chunk of the old administration out. Capable riders. The records don’t have the particulars behind those decisions, though, other than what injuries and casualties got logged under certain individuals. Was it entirely merit-based, do you think?”

The ghost of a smile crossed Tsaera’s lips. “Some new Weyrleaders do like to make a lot of changes, don’t they?”

“Some.” The other woman's tone made it clear she did not begrudge a leader his right, especially a competent one. She settled a little more into her seat, resting her cheek against the heel of her hand. “But then we all like to arrange our quarters to suit us.”

“What changes will you make, Agyta?” Tsaera asked.

“Well, I'm new here, so I don't yet know if anyone will be enthused to have another non-native rider in their administration.” That drew a small, knowing smile across Agyta’s lips, her gaze pooling like still water on the other goldrider. “But the changes are not mine to make. This is Saibra’s Weyr and I’ll serve at her direction, not my own.”

“As did I.” Time would tell if Agyta’s answer was honest or not. But that would be Saibra’s problem.

Agyta brushed a curl back. “In terms of the way I work, I’m all about efficiency. Trimming the fat. And I want to hear from the people actually running things day to day before someone above them decides what’s wrong. Starting with you, if you don't mind.”

The older goldrider sighed, mostly as a way to make time to gather her thoughts. “If you are expecting a Wing in turmoil, I’ll have to disappoint you. The Queen’s Wing is efficient and its records are tidy. There are few Threadscores to report, and the weaker wingriders that fly with us are in nines that can compensate for their weaknesses, for now. I have two greenriders that will be released back to active duty but at a lower altitude that will be joining the Wing in the next few sevendays so you will need to find a place for them.” She passed the Wingsecond’s record book to Agyta as she spoke.

Agyta trailed over the most recent notations in the book as she listened, her hazel eyes fixing on names that she would want memorized by the next ‘Fall. Satisfaction settled into her expression when she looked up, gently pressing the book closed and resting it on her thigh. “That I can do. Thank you, Tsaera. For this,” she tapped the cover, “and for keeping things running so smoothly for the Weyr, especially after Ashela’s sudden departure.”

Everything looked to be in order, from the meticulously kept records down to the awaiting clean slate of the office. It was like slipping into a warm bath, comforting and surprisingly needed. Agyta expected no less from the former Weyrwoman. There would be issues ahead in due course of the job, things she relished. Yet it was, admittedly, still a quiet relief to get this directly from her.

She sat straighter after a moment, stiller, a line drawing across her lips as the solemnity of her next thought fell neatly into place. “I do have one more thing to ask before I leave you alone for a while.”

Tsaera arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Well, you've been overseeing a lot of her training, so I want to ask about Sybana,” Agyta said. “I know she Impressed not long after her Search, so she's dealt with a lot in the span of a turn. She's doing well in the Queen’s Wing from what Saibra’s said. But what's your read on her recently? I'd like to know how best to support her going forward.”

Tsaera couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed her face. “Sybana’s a good kid. She’s young and holdbred, but she’s grown up in a family of the Blood. She understands duty and will do what’s good for the Weyr, whether she personally agrees with it or not. But this first Hatching has been hard on her, I think. She dislikes the Holdless that are in the Weyr, and she’s not entirely wrong for it. She will express her opinions to you but in my experience will keep to what you ask of her when it matters. I… I think she will make an excellent Weyrwoman, in time.”

Agyta nodded. A young woman with a deep reservoir of potential. “It sounds like she has good bones in place already.” Her grin softened at its edges. “You said this Hatching's been hard on her. How is she now, once duty has been set aside?”

“Still a bit disappointed,” Tsaera said with a sigh. “But she has friends and interests outside of dragonriding. She’s adjusting to Weyrlife, although it will take some turns before I think she feels truly comfortable at the Weyr.”

“That's understandable,” Agyta said. She'd been in the Weyr a few turns before she'd Impressed, and it'd taken even longer to really settle into the role. From the sounds of things, Sybana, by contrast, had grown up with the expectations that came with rank-- and then had far less time to adjust before everything happened at once. A small clutch was no doubt a hard hit for her. Were they not early in the Pass, and every egg counted against the ones laid ahead of it, there might have been less pressure for a young goldrider, from others as much as herself.

Agyta thought for a moment. “She’s the only junior. It might be of benefit for her to speak with some other goldriders elsewhere, too. I'll check in with her tomorrow and introduce myself.”

“She’ll appreciate that.”

“Wonderful." Thinking Tsaera might like some time to herself before she put her own mark on the office’s walls, Agyta stood and tucked the record book into the crook of her arm. "Now, I should get out of your hair for a while and finally get a sample of whatever a ‘dragontail’ is.” She paused at the door with a tilt of her head. “Thank you again, Tsaera.”

“Welcome to Arête Wing.” Tsaera watched as Agyta left, then stood and quietly shut the door behind herself for the last time.

Last updated on the October 28th 2026

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Firsts, Seconds, and Lasts