Bittersweet Symphony
There is something to say about living well into one's nineties. You see and experience so many different things. Change, good and bad, sweep through a place with time. She could remember when the place she called home had been nothing but a barely living hole in the ground. The memories were fuzzy and possibly not all accurate but they were there. Her dearest companion had a better memory for such things. But even they were having trouble remembering now. Neither could even recall what they had been doing a few hours ago that had been so upsetting. Yet they knew it had been. A coughing fit next to her jarred the blurred memory to clarity for a moment.
Right. Sickness. A rarity for others like them. But no amount of healthy diet, exercise, and carefulness could have prevented it. The terrible thing grew and ate at her partner's insides, much like their ancient enemy did through skin and bone.
"We both know that no amount of bed rest will make this go away. I won't spend my last few moments of life curled up in my furs waiting for death," The woman still stood tall and proud even at her advanced age. Many envied the fact she had lived such a long life. Survived Turns of change and the return of Threadfall with nothing more than a few scars. One hundred and five turns old, it was a miracle she could even still stand on her own. Most would tell you it was her own dragon keeping her alive. They'd be mostly right too. Her dragon and her own sharding stubbornness and determination. "That just isn't how I want to go."
I know. Down in a blaze of glory, was it? The old gold lowered her great head to her rider's level to look at her with those brilliant, jewel like eyes. The swirling, shifting colors constantly going between yellow, blue, and wisps of grey. Her rider looked into those eyes with her own faded gray eyes. They had once been the color of polished steel but now they were more like dark storm clouds.
"Balovith..." One word. It held all her fear, her sadness, her anger at the unfairness of life. Together since Yerin had been a scrawny nobody girl of thirteen standing on those hot sands. Her chocolate brown skin itching from the combined heat of summer and the baking Hatching Sands. Her short cropped hair sticking to her head from all the sweat and her robe far too big for her. So much time together and at the end of it all...it was still too little.
Yerin. My heart. My soul. My one and only. It is ok. There is nothing to fear. We have lived this life together and we shall end it the same. Her eyes at last settled into a calm, sea green shade. Acceptance. Though the edges still held the sad grey. How could she not still feel blue? To never again wake up to her Yerin grumbling about young Riders and their lack of respect, to never have her curl up against her on the nights the desert grew too chilly? No more special trips to the beach to spend the week together alone.
Yerin felt her heart breaking with each blurred memory her dragon went through. Her own a little more clear to make up for it. But only a little.
"You know...one thing that bothers me about this? No one will remember us. They've already forgotten we exist. No one ever remembers a gold that never laid an egg or her rider who never took a proper weyrmate." She winced thinking about it. That and the growing pain in her abdomen. Balovith had been an extreme oddity. Never in all her Turns of Flying and being caught by fertile suitors had she ever laid a clutch. Sterile. Without touching a crumb of firestone. Soon no one paid attention when the gold would Fly. Only one persistent brown had ever bothered. Balovith had been immensely fond of him too. The rider though had never bothered showing up at Yerin's door. She didn't mind. Sex had never interested her to begin with.
They will remember. We will not go quietly. Before the cold between take us they will see us and remember. There was a fierceness in the gold's voice that made Yerin smile. Balovith had always been a calm and collected dragon. Preferring strategy over blind attack and cunning over dumb luck. A charmer through and through, backed by a heart as big as Rukbat and shone just as bright. Balovith was still looking at her rider but the calm colors were shifting more toward grey as they talked. The pain in Yerin's gut was getting worse as the Fellis wore off. Soon it would be so crippling she wouldn't be able to breathe.
"We should get going. I don't want that to be what we feel before..." She couldn't finish. It was so hard to imagine never seeing her home again. Never wake up in that shaffit old bed of furs to the sound of her many neighbors firelizards and darters chirping annoying away in the dawn. On second thought, she wouldn't miss that too much. Balovith lowered her whole body down as low as she could. There was no need for any gear. Not for where they were going. Yerin's entire body protested with aches, pains, and snap, crackles, and pops as she climbed. With a bit of help from her dragon of course.
Sitting there in her usual seat upon her dragon's back she felt that familiar warmth in her chest. The excited beating that always came with knowing they'd soon be in the sky. She felt young again. Balovith stood at the very edge of her ledge high above the Bowl. When the time had come for them to choose a place to live they had chosen the highest place in the Weyr. Sure the ones near the ground were probably better suited for such a large dragon but they wanted to be close to the sky.
Gold wings flared open to show more flecks of cobalt on her sails. The metallic sheen of her hide making them shimmer and sparkle like diamonds. She was freshly oiled and bathed thanks to some over eager candidates the evening before. Balovith raised her head high and let out a deafening bugle. It shook the air like a thunderclap and echoed across the still awakening Weyr. With that she lunged from her ledge as graceful as a shipfish leaping from the sea.
Another bugle, this one still loud but more melodious. Balovith was 'singing' to the Weyr now. No keening, so angry roars, no wailing. Beautiful bugles and trills of remembrance and goodbyes to the place they had called home all their lives.
As spectators gathered below to see what the commotion was about Yerin leaned forward to lay herself on Balovith's neck. The pressure helped with the pain growing in her intestines. No words were needed now. Her gratefulness was felt. Balovith kept her promise to make them all see, to give them a memorable exit.
Her bugles died away and the air grew still. Balovith and Yerin's eyes slid closed together as they relished the feeling of being together. Flying high and free with no more responsibilities to the Weyr to hold them down.
My heart.
My soul.
My one and only.
Together forever.
'Till the Moon's fall.
'Till the stars fade.
'Till death.
And beyond.
They said their oath together as they had that night after Impression, the beginning of a new life. One said before and after every hardship, after every joy and victory, before and after every battle and loss. Now at the end of a long life. Filled with all those things but not a single regret.
The moment seemed to last an eternity to the pair, but below it happened in a matter of seconds.
One last bugle of goodbye to the rest of Pern and a sudden laugh from the Rider, gone unheard by those below. Then with a blink, they were gone. That last resounding bugle still echoed through the air. Many of those watching had recognized the two and knew, deep down, they weren't coming back. Others kept watching as if expecting to see them pop back up at any moment. They left after a few minutes feeling disappointed.
Now in the world of Pern if you told someone who had seen the apparition of someone who was known to be long dead...You'd get laughed at or shown to the nearest Mindhealer. But there are those that swear, when they are flying in the skies high above an old Weyr in the desert, they can see a dragon and rider soaring through the clouds. Doesn't sound strange does it? What some won't admit is that they recognize the pair. A much younger version of an old Gold pair that had lived in the Weyr long ago. They appear as if part of the clouds themselves. Fuzzy and almost transparent.
Some say they only appear when someone in the Weyr was about to die. They'd fly alongside them as they were being taken Between as if to comfort them, to guide them. This was only if the one dying was going Between willingly without having died first.
No one knows if its true. Some don't even admit to seeing them. The only others that see them are the ones gone Between. Who are they gonna tell? But to many its a comfort to know there just might be someone waiting and watching over them from beyond what is thought to be endless 'nothing'. If the Pernese had a notion of the word and its meaning, they might just call the pair their own 'guardian angel'.