The Final Dossier: Agyta

Writers: Heather, Iluva
Date Posted: 15th April 2026

Characters: Saibra, Agyta
Description: Saibra interviews another candidate for the Weyrwoman's Second position
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 2, day 7 of Turn 13
Notes: Mentioned: Stavina, Teseada, Ashela, K'ran, Sybana

Saibra

}:You don't seem excited,:{ Chioneth commented as she looked through Saibra's eyes to find that her lifemate was still lounging in her bed. }:They'll be arriving soon,:{ she cautioned.

Saibra sighed as she rolled over and stretched her arms above her head. After the last three interviews, she had ceased to be excited at the prospect of interviewing another goldrider. The ones she'd interviewed thus far had all been... duds. Stavina showed some promise, at least. Saibra felt the woman understood work and duty but.... Stavina also seemed _stiff_ and narrow-minded.

Kicking her blankets off, the Dragonsfall Weyrwoman dragged herself to her wardrobe, dressed in a perfunctory "business" pair of pants and sweater, and then slunk over to her vanity and tossed herself into her chair to quickly braid her inky black hair.

**Wait... is _that_...** she leaned in close to the mirror, staring down the thick, beautifully silver hair that glinted in all of its metallic glory in a long strand near her temple. '

}:What? What is it?:{ Chioneth asked, curious as to what had her rider feeling so startled.

Reaching up, Saibra curled the strand of hair around her finger and yanked it out. **There. Problem solved.** And then to Chioneth, **It's nothing. Everything is fine.**

}:Valbath and her rider are here.:{ the jasmine gold said.

Jumping up from her vanity, Saibra hurried out to her office ledge.

The light struck Valbath evenly on her descent, turning her antique-gold hide into a sear of hammered metal. Her wings beat in a slow, deliberate rhythm -- once, twice, three times -- before gliding almost lazily the remainder of the way. She was a heavy-built queen, more akin to Dragonsfall’s junior than its slender and softly-hued senior, her massive black shadow blotting out her path on the stoneface below.

Mist from the waterfall and the morning frost sat thick in the air as the gold dragon landed heavily on the ledge, folding her wings with the patience of a creature well accustomed to sporting too much musculature to ever maneuver in closs spaces comfortably, bearing herself with restrained dignity.

}:Good day, Chioneth,:{ she said, her tone brisk but not unfriendly.

On her neck, Agyta studied the jut of stone ledges cascading through the cliffs below.

The Weyr was settling quickly before her; a soft braille of frozen land -- terrain she would need to know if she were to live and lead here. Valbath rumbled a greeting, turning neatly toward the office entrance so that Agyta could slide down to the ledge and into the eager crunch of ice and snow. Her attire was also utilitarian, but her half-plaited hair shone, her breath rising pale in the air as she tucked her gloves into her pockets. When she stepped forward to clasp the awaiting woman's hand, her smile was warm. “Weyrwoman. Saibra. Agyta, of gold Valbath. Thank you -- and Chioneth -- for receiving us today.”

"It's our pleasure to have you. Come inside. I've got the fireplace going." Saibra led the way inside and said over her shoulder, "I'm a sucker for the nostalgia of a fireplace, even though we do have heat thanks to the technicians. They keep some monstrosity of a thing I don't understand running, which keeps us all from freezing in the winter." The Dragonsfall Weyrwoman's office was cozy despite the stone floors and walls. A circle rug in the middle of the room with a bright, happy pattern. The warm, polished wood of her desk and office chair. Shelves lined with books, knick-knacks, and figurines.

"Oh, I'm the same," Agyta said with a pleased sigh. "Electric heat is a marvel, but you can't beat the heat or smell of woodfire."

She shed her jacket and neatly hung it over a chair, the fire's glow warming her skin. The room stood inviting and warm despite the surrounding stone walls, and any lingering chill quickly fled. The tension in Agyta's posture was disciplined rather than stiff, the lines taut full of energy, but her hazel eyes moved with unhurried curiosity over the shelves of keepsakes and the rug's bright pattern. The little figures drew her notice, and she wondered if Saibra's children, like hers, were eager crafters and givers of trinkets.

"Ah, this is lovely," she said, settling in, one leg crossing over the other.

Then, with a slight tilt of her head first, Agyta said, "You've had a few very different Seconds over the Turns, haven't you?"

"A couple," Saibra admitted. "My first was Teseada. She was _young_, but she was all Dragonsfall had. She was a hard worker, though, and easy to get along with, and our dragons didn't fight over the same bronzes - always a plus. Then came Ashela." The Weyrwoman's lips lifted. "She came with a very spotty reputation, having nearly caused the death of K'ran's Rogueth at Barrier Lake."

Cool recognition rippled across Agyta's face-- brief but telling,-- and discernible through the flickering dance of shadows and firelight. "Faranth, who could forget that?" She said with a soft, almost incredulous sigh. Ashela's name had been a fixture of Rising Moons long before the dawn of the Pass; first, as the rider of their youngest queen, Aglayath, and then Turns later, when news of the incident at the new Weyrhold found its wings to them, something akin to a cautionary tale. A shame. Ambition, particularly in a goldrider, was hardly a flaw to be forgiven, but rather, in her mind, it was a minimum pre-requisite to do the job.

"From what I've heard her tenure here wasn't as fraught with quite as many difficulties as some others." Agyta said, a small smile spreading. "So, how did you two get on?"

"We actually got along fine," Saibra admitted. "Probably because she knew there was no upward mobility available to her here. No competition." She took a moment of reflection. "She was actually fantastic at Weyr-Hold relations. She enjoyed dressing up and being admired by Holders at their events, I think, and she was very good at it."

"How are you with Weyr and Hold relations?" The Weyrwoman asked, circling back to the interview.

“Good. Ashela and I have that in common," Agyta answered, even if the dressing up tended to be more of an obligation than an inherent preference on her end.

“I always enjoy visiting the Holds, and Valbath will take any chance to stretch her wings in friendly territory. And of course when it’s not…” The warmth of her expression didn't shift, only the texture of her tone as it crystallised with easy enthusiasm. “Well, I admit-- I’m a sucker for a good challenge. Difficult conversations get my blood flowing. But at least if there are resentments, even small ones, there’s something real there to address.” The Weyr’s authority needed to be something holders understood as fundamental and necessary, not something they merely endured or placated with pleasantries.

“My parents are cotholders,” she supplied after a beat, almost rueful, “and charm only gets you so far with those folks, even on a gold dragon.”

Saibra appreciated the insight that Agyta's parentage would give her, and she wondered if that would make Sybana happy as well... To have another goldrider in the Weyr who understood what it was like to not be weyrbred.

The interview covered many topics, including leadership styles, past experiences, and personal strengths and flaws. As it wound down, Saibra felt confident in saying, "I would like to extend you the position, Agyta, if you think that Dragonsfall would be a good fit for you. And of course, if you need time to think it over or discuss it with family or a significant other, I understand."

The emotion that lit Agyta's eyes was no trick of the firelight. "I appreciate that, Saibra, but I won't make you wait for my answer. I happily accept." Her smile was easy. Sharp. Certain. "My children know why I came here today. They'll have a barrage of questions when I get back, but they've been ready for a change. We all are." Her older girls in particular were more than ready. A change of scenery and Weyr meant new bloodlines, bettering their odds at Standing. She saw no flaw in that logic. The others, the less enthusiastic, were simply a matter of persuasion.

There was a half second of hesitation before Agyta's tone shifted into more delicate, personal territory; the nature of working closely together would make it inevitable, perhaps necessary in some ways. "I lost my mate to Thread, almost a Turn ago now. It's still hard to say out loud sometimes. But I think I'd welcome a Weyr where I won't expect to run into him around every corner." There was a real warmth to Saibra that she sensed went beyond the hearth of the office, and Agyta extended her hand. "Thank you, Saibra. It'd be my honor and my pleasure."

}:They don't mind the cold.:{ Valbath had been observing the Weyr's traffic with keen interest.

When Agyta mounted up with a parting wave to the Dragonsfall Weyrwoman, her tone was of cool triumph. **Neither do we.**

Last updated on the May 1st 2026

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The Final Dossier: Agyta