"The dragon spoke to you?" The resident recordskeeper asked, eyebrows raised as he jotted these notes about the new candidate down on his wherhide scroll.
"He did indeed. And even though Shard and Jere don't really claim to be part of the Protectorate's search riding team, I think he's probably sniffed out more than all the others combined." Skylar smiled slightly, and had to have been thinking back to the day his Search occurred.
"Well, what about your cousins?"
"Ah, my cousins..." Skylar savored the word. "So many of them impressed before I have even had the chance to find the right Weyr to stand at. It's all right. I will follow them into the sky." He looked at the harper with a half-smile, "it's a goal of mine of course."
"Well, isn't it everyone's?"
"Not really," he said. "Tresis apparently never wanted to ride a dragon, but his whole line have become riders. Particularly most recently. It took a generation to work itself into the gene pool you understand."
Apparently, the Harper in question had not heard of such a thing as a gene pool, let alone what a 'gene' was. Skylar smiled more sneakily and just pretended not to see the expression of confusion on the harper's face.
"So... Are you planning on having any children of your own, then?" The harper asked, finally somewhat catching on.
"I ... do not adore children," Skylar said, coldly. "I believe that if I do sire a child they would be fostered until they were old enough for me to... deal with."
"Don't like children?" The harper said, muttering over his scroll. "Everyone was a child once," he added.
A few moments later, the Harper asked, "So what kind of dragon do you think you will Impress?"
"If I impress?" Skylar pondered, "well, the dragons here at Artaq weyr are good, strong Talor descendants. Any of them would be a fine honor to ride. I would like to impress whatever dragon would benefit me most. And I would hope that any dragon would be benefitted by me. So ... perhaps not a brown. While they are sturdy and good, I would rather be on a dragon who would be quick, or bold, or smarter. Not to insult browns. Sky flashed a grin. "If it is a green which suits me perfectly than she and I will fly boldly and smartly into the future. If a blue, then we will do the same. A bronze would be just wonderful too. I only wish that I could see these things that people tell me about... These 'colors' of dragon."
Surprised, the harper almost let a whole gasp out before he caught himself. "Why... what is wrong?"
Skylar creased his white eyebrows together. "I cannot see in color, dear boy. I see more grey and more textures than you ever could, but I cannot tell you what it means to see 'green' or 'brown'. I prefer shades of gray. Or of black and white." He passed his hand near the carved chess set, and the harper nodded.
"Well, I will stop paining you with my presense, and move on to the next likely candidate. How's that suit you, Skylar?" The harper said, putting his quill down into a portable ink pot and waving his notes in the air to dry.
"I would say that you are well on your way to becoming a grand recordskeeper, young man. Keep up the good work."
"Young man?" he chuckled. "Well, that's one more thing... How old are you, anyway?"
"Old enough to impress, and young enough to enjoy it." Was all the answer the pale man would give.
He heard the comment, of course, and looked up to see two rather embarrassed young weyr girls oggling him. He smiled, and turned his attention back to the eggs. He and another male candidate had visited in their off hours, what there were of them, and grown rather attached to certain of the eggs on the sands.
But if they were to impress, it would be anyone's guess as to if those two eggs went to their admirers.
When the hatching day did arrive, Skylar looked pleased. He had something in the back of his mind all night, dreaming of flying and warmth and darkness all at once. It was a dragon kind of dream if he'd ever heard of one.
Most of the hatching went by, and the boy who had been looking at the other egg true to form got the brown that hatched from that egg. Skylar nodded to himself.
Then, something strange flickered through his mind. It wasn't like one of the Blackstones or one of the Alabaster crew trying to mentally contact him, it was far different. Harder to pin down, and frightened.
Calm yourself, please tell me where you are? He thought, carefully. None of the people around seemed to notice, save perhaps Shard up in the gallery watching.
The egg which shook itself open was a large one, and the very one which Skylar had been examining earlier. But the hatchling, a brown, seemed quite terrified of the lights and noises found outside his shell, and he attempted to crawl back into it after uttering a shriek of distress.
The mental assailment went on, in Skylar's mind. Then, finally, when the brown hatchling had given up on trying to get back into his egg, he turned and saw S'ky for the first time. Giving off a trumpet he trundled off to his new rider.
There you are... I felt you, and I did not see you! I was afraid!
"I am here, Dasnath," he said, and the brown bugled happily again.
