BETHANY
"Come on in, please don't bother knocking or clapping at my door... The sound is too much!"
Her voice is clear, but quiet. You look in, and present your Harper's badge. "I'm here to ask you about yourself, for the weyr records."
"Certainly, could you keep your voice down please?" She indicates a chair, and you notice that her hands have thin gloves on them, and her eyes are covered by a thin silken ribbon. Before you can even take a breath to ask her about this, she smiles.
"As you can see, I'm a bit oddly dressed... It's because my senses are, well, all mixed up. I can feel sounds, and I can see tastes."
"Wh-what?" You ask, taken aback at such an odd affliction. "Is this temporary?"
"No, no," she shakes her head, and you can see that her ears are given to small plugs. "I've been this way all my life. I can detect just enough of something that I understand what You might mean by 'red' or 'banana' or 'bumpy'." She smiles. "What I 'see' as red you might call harp-string-notes. What I taste when I eat a banana you'd see a bunch of orangey-red triangle shapes. See how easy it is?"
You pick at your teeth, unsure of how to interpret this.
"I've been told that if I Impress a dragon, perhaps these things will tone down, will make more sense. I've been perfectly happy with the way I see and hear, but the real problem I have is that I can hear and feel and see VERY well. Much better than the best, I'm afraid. So the tinest sounds might seem very thick-- sorry, very loud to me."
"I can see where you have trouble translating for yourself," you say, and then you realize that she can see you through that silken bandana. You stop picking your teeth. It was rude!
"Well, what do you want to know?" She asks, her voice is sweet, and she seems very patient. It seems as though she's had to explain her situation many times before.
"Well, the usual things. Your name, parentage, craft if you have one, age..."
"Ah, those usual things. Yes. I'm Bethany Lyle, of the Lyle Traveling Tinkers. I'm a Journeywoman Smithcrafter, like a couple other people in the weyr I've met recently. But I work with very small things, like my glasses, over there." She waves at a table which has a number of small lenses, wire frames, and such. "I've never seen too many people with glasses, but I know that my vision is too sharp for sunlight. Even in here, I prefer to wear my cloth, but the lenses I've had made by an interesting little man named Shim'a of Alabaster Weyrhold will fit right in there. His vision is too acute for daylight flying too, and his dragon's are too!" She laughs, "I wonder if I might find a dragon as confused as my own brain is!?"
She laughs again, and then continues. "I'm 17 Turns old, I realize that seems a bit young to be a Journeywoman, but I've been told I'm extremely smart. My father was... Well, he was not a Lyle. My mother is Leahra Lyle, a crafts master with tools and mechanics. I think that's why my father liked her so much. They had much in common, but I've rarely seen him. He rode a blue dragon but had a craft too."
"Rode? Is he gone?"
"Gone, yes, but I believe not dead. I think he's traveled between times, perhaps by accident. I ... plan on finding him."
This admission brings your heart back to your throat. "That's very dangerous, young lady," you tell her. "He probably went by accident."
"Then perhaps I'll have to reproduce that accident. If I impress, I shall devote whatever energy I can to the Weyr, but I must find my father."
She seems to be done with the interview, and smiling, she offers you a cup of klah as you exit.
Aged 17 turns and has been a Journeywoman Smithcrafter since her 14th turn day
Her skin is mushroom pale, as she rarely goes into the sun, her russet red hair is cut very short and flops over her forehead between her eyes, and usually has a cloth bandana around her head; her eyes might be blue or brown, but no one is sure as she rarely opens them in enough light to tell!
She is about 5'7" tall, and is slender, with attractive curves
The disappointment showed on her face, and she put her ribbon more loosely around her face, took her dark shaded glasses and placed them on her short nose.
Almost everyone had gone from the sands. It was just not worth waiting to see the sad candidates be taken away and consoled.
She hung at the edge of the sands, watching the colors and sounds in the only way she could. People's voices rang in shades of green and lavender, with shapes of color like harpsichord icecream dots dancing after them. Bethany sighed.
"Probably no dragon out there wants a freak like me..." She allowed herself to feel this way. After all, she did have a unique problem of mixing her senses. What use would that be in Threadfall?
It will be good to see things that others cannot, Bethany, so you may not cry any longer. I am here.
She choked. Something very odd had entered her mind. She had only once felt this before, the touch of a dragon! It was different this time, though. Slick and smooth and careful. Not jagged around the edges like the search dragon had been.
You and I will find a way, my friend.
"But... how? And what is your name? I ... You already know mine!"
I am Neuroth. I felt you long ago. But I was hidden in the sands. No one noticed that my egg had hatched and I did not want you to burn your hands and feet on the sand. It is very hot. And I can feel your colors and shapes. I like them! You will have to show me what 'music' tastes like!
Bethany laughed, and threw her arms around her new dragon!
