Empty, Open, Dusty, Dead - 11. Eleven Turns Later

Zalna rubbed her fingers again to try and get some warmth and movement back into them. Benden in winter was hard on old bones. Gemalth rarely stirred from her heated couch during those dark, damp months. Both of them longed for spring and sunshine.

It was getting more difficult to write these days. The cold stiffened her fingers and there just didn’t seem much to say anymore. Everything exciting in her life was past. She and T’san had led the Weyr for twenty-seven Turns and now it was up to Talanza and J’mer to continue.

The hides on which she’d written her journal over so many Turns were spread out before her. She had to make a decision about what was to be done with them, but firstly, she wanted to finish her last entry.

I’ve had a good life, she wrote. It’s had its share of triumph and tragedy, like many others. The best moment has to be the day I Impressed Gemalth. The worst, the day K’torl didn’t come back from Fall. Dealing with tragedy at an early age gives a person more resistance to it in later life. Nothing will ever cut so deep again.

She paused, nibbling the end of the pen, then continued.

I’ve pondered over the Disappearance for many a Turn. I still remember all of my friends at Fort; K’torl, my first love. D’gar, my first friend. S’brin, his weyrmate, killed just before the end of the Pass. Poor J’rud, whom D’gar never realised cared for him so deeply. R’feem, who was kind to me when I dreaded Gemalth’s first mating flight after K’torl’s death. Tirelle, who helped me to cope with Mardra’s bitchiness many a time. So many more, who all vanished that night, who have travelled throughout my life and are still going forward as I write. All I can do is wish them a safe journey to that final destination, so far into the future. I’m sad that they will have to fight Thread again, but it is, after all, our purpose as dragonriders. May they all fly safely and live as long a life as I have done. They deserve it.

She had said too much. All of the theories she and T’san had come up with plus her account of their long ride, were written on these hides. Although she liked to think the future was unchangeable, as Creline had said, a small part of her wasn’t absolutely certain of that. Therefore, her speculations must remain hidden and unread.

After we came back from our journey forward, T’san and I reckoned we’d figured out the mystery and realised what a heavy secret N’rax and Creline had been forced to bear. No one must know, until the time comes for that rider of the distant future to solve the riddle of the Question Song. Rightly, I suppose, I should burn all of this, but something - vanity maybe - stops me. Instead I am going to hide my writings somewhere they won’t be found. Not the archives; they are too well maintained for anything to remain hidden for long, but in a safe place where they should remain undisturbed. Maybe they will rot away, or tunnel snakes eat them, but that’s chance. It’s odd really. I don’t want anyone to find these, but at the same time, I’d like to think someone will one day read my words, giving me a kind of immortality beyond the factual statements in the official records of Gemalth’s Hatchings and my twenty-seven Turns as Weyrwoman at Benden. Tomorrow, T’san and I will finally leave this place and go into retirement at Ista. The Weyr is in good hands. It’s time to forget the past and just enjoy the present, day to day, as dragons do.

She signed her name with a final flourish. There, it was done. Anything she wrote at Ista would be free of secrets. It might be fun to set down some of the tales she had heard over a lifetime, such the ones her long-ago nanny had told her. Funny things Gemalth had said, jokes she had been told. Ephemera that served only to amuse and perhaps inform. Some stories shouldn’t be lost.

Setting down her pen at last, she methodically rolled up each hide as Cassaru had taught her, tying and sealing them. Then, after placing them in a bag, she put on her oiled coat and left the weyr, pausing only to stroke Gemalth’s snout on her way through.

Where are you going? her dragon asked, sleepily.

Just to put away our past. Be back soon.

Can we fly somewhere sunny, then? I would like to swim and sunbathe.

Tomorrow, dearest. You and Huylonth can spend as much time in the sun as you wish, at Ista.

Good. Gemalth’s eyes closed again. I like Ista.