Ikris woke from sleep suddenly, and violently. He was in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, and the covered glowbasket on the wall suggested it was the middle of the night. Was it all just a nightmare? He looked around him again. He didn't think so.
It was real, then. Thread falling unexpectedly, as it did all the time now. He and his siblings crawling inside the wagon where they'd be safe. His mother leaving again to help his father, who was still outside trying to rescue the runnerbeasts. Then the wagon tipped, and his parents screamed...
A soft croon came from the corner of the dark room, and a pair of jeweled, whirling eyes appeared as Lazire fluttered to his lap. His green fire lizard pressed herself against his chest comfortingly, and Ikris stroked her head fondly. At least he wasn't totally alone.
Apparently someone had found what was left of their caravan and brought him back to a Hold. If he was here, then surely they'd picked up the rest of his family as well. Ikris wondered darkly who else had managed to survive, and where they'd been taken. He was more exhausted than he thought, however, and he quickly drifted off again with Lazire's comfoting weight beside him.

Ikres was awakened some time later by the appearance of a young woman bursting into the room. Seeing he was awake, she wasted no time in lighting the room and glancing over her patient. Her clinical stare and brisk manner was enough to let him know she was a healer, if a young one.
He tried to sit up to greet her, but the movement lit his shoulder on fire, and he hissed in pain. The woman pressed him back onto the bed. "Don't move too fast now, your shoulder hasn't healed that quickly. You got a gash from the iron plating when the wagon turned over, but as long as it doesn't get infected, you'll be fine. Healer Orgol already took care of it, but he's taking care of other patients now. I've been looking after you since, though. My name's Porsla, by the way."
Ikris gave a curt nod. Lazire was still curled on his chest, though looking calmly at the healer, clearly recognizing her from past visits. "I'm Ikris. Can you tell me what happened to the rest of my family?" His tone was impatient, but under the circumstances, he thought it forgivable.
"The children were all perfectly safe. Just a few scratches and bruises, but yours was the worst of that lot," Porsla hastened to reassure him, but her next words didn't help. "The adults, umm, weren't quite so lucky. The man was badly scored; he died quickly. The woman is injured as well, but she's still alive so far. Orgol is with her now." Porsla added, rather belatedly and definitely uselessly, "I'm sorry."
"I want to see my mother."
It took longer than he liked, but eventually Ikris was allowed to see his mother, along with the rest of his siblings. Apparently, Riklia was just as anxious to see them as they were to see her. It wasn't until after Healer Orgol had stabilized her and he was sure she was going to be okay for a while that he allowed them in. She took Ikris' hand in one of hers, and held his older sister's in the other. The grip was firm, but her eyes and smile were both sad.
"It's up to you and Ricytra to look after your siblings, okay? I won't be good for much of anything for a while, and after that, I'll be busy putting the family business back together. There's no way I'm letting it go yet."
Ikris gave a solemn nod. Since his older brother left a turn ago to settle down in a Hold with his new wife, there was no one else to take care of them. "Don't worry, Mother, I'll do whatever I can to help you," Ricytra said from beside him.
Ikris added his own promise. "I'm not going anywhere." Soon after that, they were ushered out of the room again to give his mother time to rest. The silence was oddly disconcerting.

It turned out Ikris wouldn't exactly be able to keep his promise after all. It seemed the place they'd been brought to was not a Hold after all; it was Aneris Weyr, whose dragons had spotted them after Threadfall. Still recuperating from his own injury, Ikris spent most of his time indoors, and he had ignored the infrequent of the dragons. The dragons, however, were not so indifferent towards him. Apparently, there was a clutch on the sands, and some of the searchdragons seemed intent on him standing for it.
At first, Ikris denied the Search. He was reluctant to Impress a dragon, for more reasons than one. The dragons' insistent stares and utter silence (to him) creeped him out a little, no matter how fond he was of Lazire's company. Not to mention the matter of his family's recent losses. He didn't really want to leave his family after they'd lost both his father and the bulk of their merchandise--and especially not before his mother was fully recovered. They needed him more than any dragon did.
Ikris probably would have kept refusing to be a candidate, but it was actually his mother who made him change his made. Riklia insisted that they could get along fine with the Weyrfolks' help. "It isn't like we're going to be able to leave before the Hatching, anyway," she pointed out. "We'll be here for months yet, probably. Might as well enjoy the show. Anyway, being a dragonrider's a good opportunity, one I don't want you to miss out on."
Lazire added a cheerful chirp, letting him know she fully agreed with his mother's statement. Ikris rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'll stand. But just for this Hatching."