The night started out cool and fresh, not a cloud marring the star-lit sky. Andrel lay on his back with the dew damp grass tickling his neck and brushing the edges of his clothes with moisture. A single full moon hung over head, pure and untouched. Each light seemed to reflect in Andrel's eyes, caught and held there like fallen stars. His silver hair lay beneath him, some of the long strands pulled out of the loose braid. His bangs fell to either side of his face, woven silk that seemed too delicate to touch. A serene silence fell across the boy's mind, losing his star-caught gaze to drifting thoughts. The night's silence surrounded him like a comforting blanket. Only a cool breeze broke the stillness to whisper through Andrel's untidy strands like a playful child.
Andrel closed his eyes slowly, sinking deeper into his own meditation. His senses were so tuned as to pick up the slightest noise. They did then, sensing a slight change in the cool air and pressure around him. The rider's son thought he could hear loud, hissing breaths close to his face, but that was impossible. He was alone out here.
His thoughts changed suddenly, matching the warmth on his face to the breath of a dragon. Perhaps one of them had come to visit. Though why they would be all the way out here was a mystery to him.
Laughter seemed to trickle through the air, changing from a high-pitched squeal to a low, throaty bark. "Andrelion." A voice hissed above his face. A knot of dread formed in Andrel's stomach as the name was repeated among many other voices.
The silver haired boy opened his eyes slowly, cautiously. The night was dark now, far blacker then it had been before. Two slivers of red marked the stars directly above his head. The other gleaming red points in the night seemed almost too large to be stars. The red flared suddenly, widening into two, large, hellish eyes. The laughter sounded again, louder as it rippled through the hydra's many heads with glee. Andrel froze, all life draining from his body.
"Andrelion." The beast hissed again, black lips curling back to reveal knife-blade teeth inches above his face. A crest of pure gold rose from the back of the hydra's central head, dancing with the reflected light of its many jewels. The head pulled back suddenly, a thunderous roar rising in its many throats. Fire flashed in the depths of the black maw. A wicked grin spread across the beast's face. Andrel could only stare in horrid fascination as his impending death descended upon him.
"Andrel!" Damier's deep voice growled in his ear. The Liron/Tigra shook his shoulders none too gently and when Andrel woke with a scream on his lips, he backed off. It took a moment for the boy to regain his bearings. He gasped for breath, drenched in sweat. The sun was already rising over the horizon and a light mist covered the ground. Damier looked down on his friend with obvious sadness. "Look, I'm sorry buddy. If I had known..." He trailed off, casting his gaze to the ground.
Andrel looked at him for a moment in confusion. The hydra had only been a nightmare. Nothing more then a bad dream. Still, his fear of hydras was something that would haunt him forever. Still shaken, Andrel brought his hand up to his hair and began running his fingers through the fine locks. His head felt lighter today, not just from the jolt to wakefulness. He paused suddenly, his fingertips meeting with cool air where there should have been more hair. Later, Damier would have sworn he'd stopped breathing.
"Wha- what...?" Andrel gaped, shakily pulling his hand away and staring at it in disbelief. A few, short strands of hair clung to his palm. The rest of it... was gone. His hair had been cut to just above his ears. He looked up and around wildly, as if expecting to see the rest of his wonderful braid suddenly fly back to his head. Instead, what he saw was a cluster of fosterlings, all boys his age, holding up the fabled length of hair with cunning grins on their faces.
He didn't seen Damier's confused look as the Liron/Tigra glanced around to see where his gaze was centered. Nor did he see Letanri raise a brow and mutter about how they had it coming. All he saw was the blood red fog in front of his vision, and the boys.
Andrel leapt forward like something possessed. There were five boys up against him, the one holding his hair obviously being the leader. While he cowardly ordered his peers to protect him, he stepped back and hid the braid behind his back. Andrel dealt with the first two boys easily, slipping under the grasp of one and felling the other with a blow to the jaw. He turned around and viciously slammed his fist into the other boy's stomach, following up with a kick that landed the boy on his back for a while. All this time, he never lost momentum. The next two fosterlings came at him the same way their friends had. The third came in from behind. Andrelion knelt swiftly and brought his elbow back into the third's stomach then swept his feet beneath those of the second. The first turned to run and was brought down by a snarling, enraged rider's son. With all five goons dealt with, Andrel turned to the last one, the leader.
The fosterling gulped down a dry lump in his throat, seeing the heated anger in Andrel's deep, blue eyes. He seemed to grow suddenly, towering over him like an attacking dragon. The boy knew he had gone too far this time. This was one lesson only a boy like Andrel could teach him; and he was about to learn the hard way.
Damier surged forward to stop the fight as he watched the de-haired Andrel leap on the last standing boy. He was stopped, quite unexpectedly, by a raised paw from Letanri. The dark furred Liron/Tigra stood to one side, her expression calm and the other hand resting on her hip. She smirked lightly. "Just wait."
The siblings watched as Andrel's fists rained down on the fosterling's face. The boy tried weakly to fight back but was no match for his opponent. Open mouthed stares lined the faces of every other boy and girl who witnessed this assault. Again, Letanri smiled, this time lifting her hand for Damier to pass. "Now you can stop him." She, unlike the others, had been watching these particular boys pick on Andrel since the day they'd arrived. Not once had Melodia's son lost his temper, never turning on them with fists as some others often did. Yet his hair was his pride and joy and this time, they deserved it.
* * * A few hours later, Andrel sat sullenly in Mystic's personal weyr, listening to the mage's furious rant. He sported an ugly black eye and held his detached braid in one fist. The hair cutters sat in the hallway, next in line to hear Mystic's words. The Warren's Caretaker was not happy with Damier's report.
"What in the world possessed you to do this?" Mystic snapped, her golden eyes flaring with fire. He knew she was only upset and not angry. Her anger was colder then a northern wind. She paced in front of him with swift, fluid steps, her golden staff clasped behind her back. "An attack like this I could expect from one of them but not the oldest son of my Advisors. I thought; no, I know, Melodia and S'ron have raised you better then this." Step, step, step; turn, step, step, step. Andrel watched her movements in something akin to a trance. He was only half-listening to her words. "Do you have any idea how much trouble this could get you in? What if their parents find out about this, hmm? What then? Will you just tell them that �they started it'?" Mystic stopped and turned to face him sharply. "The Warren's political structure is still very weak and without support from the Lords and Dukes that send their children here, we'd have nothing to stand on. We need these fosterlings!" She began pacing again. Andrel sunk lower in his chair and sighed under his breath, not daring to make it much more then a whisper lest he provoked her true anger. The red mage shook her head, eyes on the ground. "This is not something I'd expect of one of my rider's children. It's something I expect even less of my candidates! This is simply inexcusable, Andrelion."
Andrel seemed to perk up for a moment. He ran over her words in his mind, trying to distinguish if he had heard wrong. He swallowed and interrupted quietly. "Can- candidates?"
Mystic paused only long enough to cast him a glance, as if disbelieving that he had actually been listening. "Yes. You were Searched before you left yesterday. But that is no excuse for your actions! I'd say it's less of a reason for you to have done what you did."
Andrel's jaw dropped open slowly until he would have sworn it hung near his ankles. A candidate... He was a candidate! Imagine the possibilities for adventuring if he had a dragon companion. He grinned, remembering the many daydreams he'd had of flying over the Dragon Tooth Mountains on the back of a mighty dragon.
Mystic stopped and sighed softly, seeing the far away grin plastered on the young boy's face. She tried to keep up her mask of stern reprimand but it faltered under joyful smile. Andrel would be the first child of the Warren to leave for impression. She had yet to tell Melodia and S'ron. "Andrelion," she began much more gently, "I am very please that you, of all the eligible boys here, were chosen for candidacy." She fixed him with a stony glare. "But, before you go, you have to promise me one thing."
Andrel nodded quickly, too stunned to trust himself with words.
"You must swear to not lose your temper wherever you go to stand. I don't want to hear word from the Weyrwoman that you've broken a weyrbrat's nose." She smirked ruefully. "And one more thing, Andrel." She walked over to him gently, once again gathering a mysterious air about her motions. Her footsteps made no sound and as she placed her hand on his shoulder, the actions were fluid and graceful. "Your hair looks just as good short as it does long. It will grow back, remember."
"I know." Andrel finally squeaked. He shifted his gaze from her to his braid then back to her and smiled weakly. "Thanks... I guess. I- I'm really looking forward to this. And I swear not to hurt anyone. I won't even say anything bad!"
Mystic chuckled quietly and patted his shoulder. "Good. I know I can trust you." She glanced down at the braid of silvery hair and nodded to it absently. "Now, what will you do with that?"
Andrel grinned.
* * * He left the room feeling much better and still wearing a wide grin. All five fosterlings sat with their backs to the wall outside Mystic's room. They each cast him dirty glares, some holding ice to their faces. Andrel walked slowly past them, pausing in front of the leader and smiling warmly. "Mystic's waiting to see you."
"I hope you got kicked out for this." The boy hissed, holding a very large ice pack to his eye. Patches of dark black and blue could still be seen covering his opposite cheek and his lower lip protruded more then usual.
"Nope." Andrel smiled, casually dropping the lost length of hair in the boy's lap. "I'm a candidate. You can keep this since you worked so hard to get it. I kinda like my hair now." He winked, already walking backwards down the hall. "Maybe you should change your area of study to hair styling." He barely contained his laughter at the fosterlings' shocked expressions. Turning his back to them, he literally skipped the rest of the way to his parent's weyr.
Melodia and S'ron waited impatiently at the doorway, not bothering to conceal their concern. Melodia was certain to lecture Andrel for hours on how stupid his actions had been but a talk with Mystic was bad. It could only mean that whomever Andrel had beaten up was some important Lord's son or the like. She fretted so much in the hour it took for Mystic to rant then release Andrel that S'ron swore he saw her hair starting to turn gray. When their beloved son finally did show up, wearing the biggest grin either of them had seen, all angry words were washed away.
Melodia ran forward, embracing Andrel in a fierce hug. S'ron was next, both of them acting as if he had some how risked his life by beating up another boy. Melodia exclaimed over Andrel's black eye but all her questions were quickly waved away. Andrel grinned, catching both his parent's rapt attention.
"I'm a candidate." Those three words were all he had to say to put both parents into another type of fit. Melodia cried with joy, throwing her arms around Andrel's neck again. S'ron gaped for a moment then thumped his son's back proudly. Even Riyan came forward to congratulate his older brother.
"How- How did this happen? Didn't Mystic get angry?" Melodia bubbled, almost too bewildered to stand. They moved into the central room while Andrel answered.
"Yeah... she was kinda... really upset." He began meekly. "But then she said that I was Searched before I left yesterday. She seemed proud of me too."
"No wonder!" S'ron exclaimed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose while trying to find something to do with his hands. His joy was electric, coursing through the air like a surge of power.
"Then she made me swear that I wouldn't beat anyone up when I stand." Andrel winced and the corners of his mouth twitched in a small smile. Melodia laughed, falling back into a chair while her head still spun dizzily. Her eyes shone brightly, holding the pride only a mother could feel for her child.
"I know you'll keep your word." S'ron wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders. He wore a similar grin to Melodia. "Did she tell you where you're to stand?"
Andrel opened his mouth to reply then snapped it shut and blinked in confusion. In all the excitement, he hadn't gotten that information from Mystic.
"To Falas Weyr for their final clutch." K'lter's warm voice called from the flight field entrance. He held his riding gear in hand plus a spare helmet for Andrel. The Search Rider smiled and nodded to his newest charge. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah. I'll go get my stuff." Andrel leapt into action, running for his room while hooking a hand through his traveling bag at the same time.
K'lter waited until the boy had disappeared into the back room before walking forward slowly. He took his time, watching Melodia and S'ron still bubbling with joy and pride over the news. As he drew closer, Melodia stood and clasped his hand as if to thank him for this miracle.
"Be sure he takes care of himself." She smiled weakly, her mind shifting to the over-active imagination of a mother. She could just imagine the trouble her son was sure to get himself in.
"I'll be sure of it." He squeezed her hand gently then turned to S'ron and nodded respectfully. "Word will be sent when the hatching starts." He grinned and winked. "I doubt you'll want to miss it."
"Not for the world." S'ron chuckled, still almost breathless with wonder. Even Riyan was losing a battle with a prideful grin on his lips. His big brother was going to be a dragon rider. Maybe, if it was strong in the blood line, he'd be next. Andrel came out at that moment, his baggage slung over his shoulder and a gleam in his eyes that would rival the sun.
K'lter gave a final nod to Melodia and S'ron then began leading Andrelion towards the fields where Penorith waited to transport them to Falas Weyr. Andrel stopped at the entrance to the flight fields, looking back at Riyan with a mischievous grin.
"Hey, Ri. Do me a favor since I'm leaving now."
"What?" Came his younger brother's suspicious reply.
"Make sure those fosterlings stay in line." He winked and took off with a laugh before either of his parents could reprimand him. Riyan chuckled under his breath, plans of revenge already forming in his young mind. K'lter only laughed to himself as the young, silver haired boy tore past.
How much you wanna bet he won't be able to keep his promise? Myia's younger brother bespoke his bond. Penorith lowered his head and crooned in sly acknowledgment of the bet.
Andrel'll keep it. Riyan will last one day before knocking at least one of those boys senseless. The light blue dragon lowered a wing for his rider and their charge to mount, a draconic grin on his face. K'lter laughed, making sure Andrel was seated firmly behind him.
It's a bet.
Andrel is a candidate at: Falas Weyr