You are about to turn and go, when you hear something coming up the path behind you. There's a long low swishing sound, as of something heavy being dragged, floating up towards you. Wondering at the sound, you walk forward to peer around the bend in the path. To your surprise, you see a young man laboriously pushing a large desk towards you. You rush forward to lend a hand, but he shakes his head at you. "I can do it!" he tells you in a strained voice.
You can tell he really doesn't want help, so with a shrug you back up the narrow path and into the weyr. After a few minutes the desk appears in the doorway. With a final shove, the young man pushes it into the weyr. "Ah," he sighs, and sits down on top of the desk. He pauses to rest for a moment, and you finally get a good look at him.
He looks to be around 17, with shaggy brown hair and glittering blue eyes. He catches you looking at him, and he smiles cheerfully. Then he lifts his chin. "Ha! I told 'em I could do it!"
"Who?" you ask, a bit bewildered.
"The others," he replies, waving his hand in the general direction of the weyr bowl. "They didn't think I could," his grin grows mischievious. "They all bet me their shares of today's bubbly pies that I couldn't."
"Oh," you say, uncertain of what's expected of you.
He smiles and stands up. "My name's Yislan." You shake the hand he offers you, and he continues. "I'm a candidate at Sonria Weyr. As you can see, I'm still in the process of setting up my weyr." Yislan takes a glance out the door. "Uh-oh. Look at them all trying to sneak away. I'd better go make sure they don't back out on our deal. Good to meet you!" Yislan heads out the door with a cocky wave.
You debated for a second before hurrying up the path to his weyr. You step inside, and stop dead. Wow! It's changed. The large desk from last time is set neatly against the back wall. There's also another, smaller desk, several lamp stands, half a dozen chairs, a pair of foot stools, two rugs...you've never seen a weyr quite this crowed with furniture. The change is enough that you almost don't notice the small living huddle in the middle of the dragon couch.
With the thunder of running boots Y'slan (as you realize he's now called) appears. You note that his tray is no longer empty. He ignores you entirely, going to kneel next to his dragon. The hatchling wakes and sits up, spreading his wings for balance, and Y'slan begins feeding him.
At this point you realize that your presence hasn't been noticed. You give a polite cough. Y'slan starts and turns to look at you. "Oh, its you. Hello! Come see Shimmaeth!"
You obiediately walk over and give the little bronze a closer look. "He's beautiful. Congratualations!" you say.
Y'slan, far to engrossed in his dragon to give you much attention, waves vaguely at you. "Thanks for coming."
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Y'slans voice floats out from the back recesses of the weyr. After a moment he appears, still in the process of getting his weyrhide ridding helmet onto his head. He blinks as he notices you. "Ah, hello!" he smiles.
"Hello, Y'slan," you reply. "I just thought I'd come pay you too a visit. Shimmeath has certainly grown!"
Y'slan laughs, "Yes, indeed he has. I'm certainly glad he can feed himself now!"
"And I take it you're flying him now too," you comment, gesturing at his ridding apparel."
"Yup," Y'slan pauses as Shimmeath bugles impatiently. "In fact, we've got wing practice right now. I'm afraid I've got to go."
"That's fine," you reply. "It was good to see you!"
Y'slan walks in. "Shimmaeth said we had company," he explains. "Welcome back!"
"I see he's all grown up," you say. "He certainly is big!"
Y'slan smiles proudly. "Indeed he has! We're a regular part of the weyr, now."
"Congratulations!" you say.
Looks to: Y'slan
From: Sonria Weyr
Page last updated: Mon. Jan. 17, 2000