Date: Sun, 4 Apr 2004 21:43:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: Corrinne S <quasito_cat@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Black Dragon of Pern

This is fan fiction in honor of my fascination of Anne
McCaffrey's wonderful Pern series and is a sequel to
`The Red Orb of Pern'.  This story, like the last one,
is dedicated to and written for a dear friend who is
my `alpha' this time.  I throw out suggestions.  He
responds, and I write.  He critiques and I make
corrections.  This is written out of my love for the
real M'chell.

Comments welcome to quasito_cat@yahoo.com or
quasito_cat@hotmail.com

The Black Dragon of Pern

M.C. Gordon

Chapter One

     M'chell sat silently at the opening to his weyr.
Raganth was asleep, for which M'chell was grateful
since his dragon knew his every thought when he was
awake.  This was not one of the times M'chell wanted
Raganth to be aware of him.

     Andren and Julani had been his constant
companions for the past few days, worry and concern
for their friend written across their faces and heard
in their voices.

     "You're not to blame," Andren had told him time
and time again.  "You did everything you could."  The
Healer's voice and hands had been gentle as he changed
M'chell's dressings.

     The fire had been swift and unexpected.  In a
Threadfall totally out of pattern N'car had been
mortally scored and his dragon, Selth, had followed
the offending Thread down to flame it into
non-existence.  Just before the gentle bronze went
between for the final time, he breathed flame and the
dry chaff of a grain field was ignited.

    M'chell and Raganth saw the carnage below them, as
dangerous as Thread for the ground crew included a
small holder, his wife, and their three children.
Raganth landed as close to the fire as he could and
M'chell rushed into the flaming field to try to rescue
the small family.  He cast his thoughts hard at
Raganth and the golden male alerted fire lizards and
other dragons.  By the time help arrived, it was too
late.  The family had perished and M'chell had been
badly burned in his attempt at rescue.

     "I'm worried about him," Julani said as he helped
his mate inventory Edmon Weyr's herbal supplies.

     Their friendship as children at Edmon had
developed into a loving relationship over the years
and Andren had willingly accepted Julani's request
that they make it one of permanence.  Both had been
delighted when L'noth and Adelmisa had requested them
be assigned to Edmon.

     Five years had passed since the mysterious
illness which had taken so many lives on Pern.  Julani
and Andren were both masters of their chosen crafts.
Davis had advanced to Journeyman Healer.  And L'del
had fallen for the charms of a green rider from
Nalebad Weyr, leaving Edmon in the middle of the night
and a note telling M'chell that it was over between
them.

     "So am I," Andren replied.  "He's always been
sensitive to loss of life, especially children since
Tomin died.  His hands will heal but I'm concerned for
his spirit."

     "Do you know if L'noth has any plans for him?"
Julani asked.  "I know he won't be able to fight
Thread until his burns have healed."

     "I think the Weyrleader is considering asking him
to help M'sel with the weyrlings.  M'chell is one of
the best riders in all of Pern and would be a good
teacher."

Chapter Two

     Dawn was beautiful most of the time on the
deserted beaches of Pern's southern continent.  The
flyer rose from his simple nest of dried grasses and
stretched as he made his way to the opening of the
cavern he considered home.  He was filled with
disappointment.  It was raining and doubtful that any
clutches would hatch today.

    The flyer had been searching for more of his kind
as long as he could remember.  None of his siblings
had reached adulthood, for life at Southern was ruled
by the predators.  He had watched as his siblings were
taken down, one by one, by the large canines and
felines who fought each other for dominance.  He
watched, and he learned how to avoid them until he was
old enough to reach the safety of the skies.  And now
he watched each clutch he found on the hot, sandy
beaches, hoping that more of his kind would come into
the world.

     He was lonely and craved companionship.  He could
speak with the fire lizards but their minds were a
jumble of random thoughts and memories.  They told him
stories he never could quite believe ... of objects from
the sky and creatures unlike any he had ever seen.
They told of fire lizards much larger than themselves
with those unseen creatures on their backs.  And they
asked him who was and where he came from.  He had no
answers for he didn't know.

     He sighed and returned to the depths of his
cavern.  The rain had brought a chill to the air and
he drew his wings forward, covering himself for
warmth.  Perhaps tomorrow the rain and chill would be
gone.  He would hunt and feed.  He always felt better
when the air was warm and his stomach was full.

     He sat alone in silent melancholy.  His instinct
told him that he needed another, a reason to continue
to exist.  But he didn't know why.  He sighed again
and tried to remember the fire lizard's stories and
the images they projected.  He never saw any like
himself in their images and wondered, not for the
first time, if he would be all alone until he went
into that cold place one last time and never return.
Perhaps tomorrow he would find a clutch and one of the
hatchlings would be like him.

Chapter Three

     "I can't read some of these," M'chell told
Julani.  "These hides are so old and worn that the
inscriptions are either blurred or missing."

     "Let me see," Julani replied.

     M'sel had told L'noth that he didn't think
working with the weyrlings was working out for M'chell
after one seven-day.  "His heart isn't in it," M'sel
said.  "He still feels it's his fault the holder
children died, and being around the young weyrlings
just reminds him all the time."

     "We have to find something to keep him busy,"
L'noth replied.  "He'll only get more and more
depressed unless we can keep his mind occupied."

     "Then let him work with Harper Julani sorting out
all those old hides," Adelmisa suggested.  "Our harper
decided he wants to write a history of Pern and he's
neglecting our healer.  I know because I just saw
Andren and he's upset because Julani's spending all
his time with the old hides and they're not ... well,
they're not."

     L'noth had laughed at his weyrmate's delicacy,
knowing that after years of weyr life she still
blushed at the thought of what dragon riders did when
they mated.  And he sent M'chell to Julani.

     Julani took the hide M'chell was holding and
squinted his eyes as he looked at it.

     "I think it's a tale from olden times," he
finally said.  "You know, some of these old stories
should be told.  I think we spend too much time on the
teaching songs.  I saw one the other day that actually
said dragons used to be fire lizards."

     "A fire lizard is too small to clutch dragon
eggs," Raganth remarked from the ledge where he was
sunning himself.

     "It's just a tale," M'chell told his queen.

     "I don't know about that," Julani said.  "I've
come across more than one old hide that mentioned
breeding programs on the southern continent before
everyone had to move north."

     M'chell grimaced slightly as he moved his right
hand and accidentally bumped it on the table he was
sitting at.

     "Should I send for Andren?" Julani asked in
concern.

     "No," M'chell replied.  "It's just the numbweed
wearing off.  I'll be more careful until it's time for
Andren to change the dressings."

     M'chell's hands were healing and the linen
dressing grew lighter each day.  Andren promised that
the dressings could be removed completely in a few
days but it would be a long time before M'chell would
be able to fly Raganth during Threadfall.

     "Give me another hide and I'll see if it's in
better condition than this one," he told Julani.

     M'chell knew that L'noth and Adelmisa had sent
him to Julani to give him something to do and take his
mind from the fire.  But the screams of the holder and
his family, especially the children, continued to echo
in his dreams.  He understood the concern of everyone,
especially Andren and Julani who had been as brothers
to him as long as he could remember.  His state of
mind was causing them distress, and he didn't even
want to think about Lurah, who fussed over him
constantly.  He needed to be away from Edmon Weyr, to
let his mind and body recover.

     He glanced at the hide Julani handed him and
blinked several times as the words came into focus.
It was another tale, a story made up to put children
to sleep, a tale of unbelievable things like the
yellow and purple dragon Andren had once invented for
Tomin and Davis.  It was a myth of men who were
dragons.

     M'chell crept silently from his weyr the next
morning.  He had packed a change of clothing, light
dressings for his hands, a small pot of numbweed, and
the hide containing the myth.  He had written a
message to Julani and Andren telling them that he was
off to Southern to see if he could find any truth to
the legend of the dragons.  He just didn't tell them
which legend he was seeking.