| F'loran is the Weyrlingmaster at DawnSisters Weyr |
 |
| Search Story of Faloran |
| Childhood: "Shards Mikaneel, I only wanted to see what it looked like." The young voice of Faloran said. "Fals, you gotta understand. It's risky goin' up to the Holder's chambers to catch a peek at his fire-lizard egg. We can't have anyone who could make it harder than it is. You understand don't you?" An older boy, Mikaneel, Faloran's only real friend told the nine Turn old. Then, seeing Faloran's lip begin to pout and knowing the younger boy would squeal if he couldn't come along, he tried to make a bargain with him. "Faloran, listen, only six of us are going..." "There's only six of you anyway!" Faloran protested. Mikaneel grimaced. "Yeah, well, seven counting you." Mikaneel tried to appeal to Faloran's sense of dignity and importance. But it wouldn't work because Mikaneel knew Faloran didn't have a sense of dignity and importance. Faloran stamped his foot impatiently. "Now don't be actin' like that. That's parta the reason the guys don't want you along Fals, they think you act like a baby. Hey, cheer up Faloran, it ain't your fault you're only nine. You'll get older soon enough, then the rest of 'em will wanna hang around you more." "But then you'll all be older too, and you'll forget that I'm older, and still see me as a babe! I should just be able to go with you now!" Faloran's logic was purely his own, so Mikaneel ignored him. "Right Fals. Okay, I've got to go now; they'll be waiting for me. Don't worry, I'll tell you what the egg looks like as soon as I'm back. Just don't go tellin' no one what we're up to." Mikaneel warned. Faloran stared defiantly at his friend, but Mikaneel knew he would comply. Mikaneel turned on his heel and raced to catch up with his other friends to go catch a peek at the fire-lizard egg. Several minutes passes, and Faloran hadn't moved from the spot. The dust and dirt blew around him as the wind picked up and stuck to the tears running down his face, giving him a dirty, smudgy look. "I'll show 'em! I'll prove to all of 'em that I'm big enough to not be left behind!" Faloran vowed. He immediately began to make plans for sneaking up to see the fire-lizard egg all by himself. Two days later.... Faloran stared out from his "confinement" into the hallway. No one was looking; perhaps he could make it out? No, he dared not try. Who knew when his foster mother would be coming around the stairs looking for him. Faloran had definitely better stay were he was. He kicked the writing table and sat in the stool, crossing his arms angrily. It wasn't fair! The other boys had been to see the egg and back, and not been caught. But when Faloran had tried to sneak up there, he'd been caught. He'd made it all the way into the Holder's bedroom. Feeling cocky and sure of himself because he'd made it that far, he found the small pot on the hearth, and sifted through the sand to find the egg. Faloran found the egg, and lifted it from its pot. It was so beautiful! All creamy and mottled, so unlike a wherry egg! He held it to him, delighting in it's warmth and texture, and fingered it lovingly. This was how the Holder found him when he came back into his rooms. Certain that the boy was trying to steal his egg; he ignored Faloran's protest that he just wanted to touch the egg, and immediately sent for the boy's mother. Opeline had arrived out of breath and very cross. She disliked anything Faloran did that brought her large frame too far from the kitchens, and made sure he knew it. If the Holder was angry, she was furious, and confined Faloran to his little room behind her own quarters. The room was right close to the kitchens too, so if he managed to pass her room uncaught, he doubted he'd make it out of the kitchens. Not a good situation for an active boy like Faloran. It only gave him more time to think about the injustices he suffered, and the people he would have to get back at. Opeline didn't realize her foster-son had a very troubled mind. I hate being in my room. When I get older I'm gonna live somewhere else, where I won't have to be in such a tiny space all the time! When I get older I'm gonna have fire-lizards too, and if a little boy wants to touch 'em, I'll let him! And I won't tell his foster mother either, so then he wouldn't be in trouble. Why doesn't Opeline understand anything? She coulda made Holder Livicas understand. I hate her, and him too! Such thoughts kept Faloran entertained for a few minutes, before he heard shouts coming from the kitchens. He immediately recognized Mikaneel's voice, and Mik's brother Nopakil. They sounded excited, without thinking Faloran dashed from his room and followed the voices. He found them in the smaller, storage room of the largest kitchen. He instantly saw what the excitement was about. One of the canine females was whelping! "Let me through guys! I wanna see!" Faloran tried to push through the crowd of boys, eagerly awaiting the first birth of the dog. Someone pushed Faloran back. "Hang a minute Faloran! We were here first, so wait your turn to see!" It was Nopakil. "That's not fai......" "Hush up Faloran, we ain't got time for your whinin' today!" That was Din's voice. Din was The Leader of the group. And once he hushes Faloran, the rest of the boys hastily copied his manner. "Yeah Faloran, by quiet!" "You're s'posed to be in your room anyway...." "Get him outta here, he'll just make noise and scare the dog!" More shoves went to Faloran, and he was nearly thrown out of the room altogether when Mikaneel stepped in. "Hey guys, knock it off! If you get someone to come in here, they'll make us go too and leave the dog alone. After all, it's our turn to get pups, and they'll just say we'll see 'em later." Everybody agreed, and promptly ignored Faloran altogether. "It's our turn to get the pups? How many pups will there be?" "Hush Faloran! We don't know yet, and it's our turn to get pups, not yours. If there's enough, you'll get one. Now hush!" That was Nopalik again. Faloran stamped his foot and sighed. If that was how they were going to be...... "Faloran!" Opeline's voice rang loudly in his ears. He turned meekly around to see his foster mother staring at him and fuming. "Faloran!" She repeated. "Just what do you think you are doing here?" "I..." He began. "I told you to stay in your room until I called for you! Or did you forget? Boy, I'm going to whip you one of these days, now get to your room and mind you don't leave again until I tell you too." "But I..." "Nothing! Now go!" Opeline's voice shook any form of defiance from him, and he turned and trudged back to his room. He heard Opeline scurry back to the kitchens. It wasn't fair! He thought. She didn't even give me the chance to explain! Now I'll never get a pup, and it'll be her fault. Faloran threw himself onto his cot and stared at the stone ceiling. He knew from the excited shouts of the boys that the first pup had been whelped. He knew it was tiny, and brown, and definitely gonna be very fast when it got older. Faloran listened until the he lost count of the cheers and began to drift into sleep. He heard another cheer as his mind fogged over, and his last thought awake was, "I think that's the seventh, I think there'll be a pup for me......" Faloran was immediately asleep. Seven Turns Later: "Hey Faloran! You ma wants you! You'd better hurry!" Somebody called from the courtyard. "Tell her I'm coming!" A deep, soothing voice answered. Faloran stepped from the door of the stables, wiping sweat from his brow. He was a far cry from the short, skinny, light haired child he had been. For one, his hair had naturally deepened to a mousy-auburn. He had grown much taller, and in his sixteenth year was nearly 6'4. He was still skinny, well muscled. But more of a litheful muscle, making him more sinewy than powerful. He wasn't handsome, but his face was full of character. "Com'on Uli!" Faloran called back to his large, brown canine. Out of the nine pups whelped on that day seven years ago Uli was the only runt. The rest of the boys picked over the litter, fighting over the biggest, and the handsomest dogs, while the little female was left alone. When young Faloran had finally been allowed to go see the pups, only two remained. A black male, and a small, multi-browned runt. Faloran chose the runt, and today she was one of the best dogs in the Hold. Uli followed on Faloran's heels as he jogged into the kitchen door, stopping suddenly at the sight of his foster mother, crying into her apron. He felt no attachments to her, nothing that compelled him to comfort her, but he still didn't like to see women cry. So he went up and put his arm stiffly around her shoulder, in a vain attempt to ease her suffering. He knew why she cried. Before he was born, when Opeline had still been young, and pretty, she bore a daughter. Life as an assistant to the Headwoman gave her little time for the girl she birthed. So to keep the girl from growing up wild, she fostered her to a friend. Nearly fifteen years later, Opeline took in the two-year old son of a kitchen drudge and amorous dragonrider to foster. Opeline missed her daughter, but found no solace in the boy she'd taken, and didn't love him like a son. He never learned to love her at all. When her fosterson was ten, Opeline heard at last from her nearly thirty-Turn old daughter. Her daughter was dying of something the Healers couldn't cure. Opeline had never known her daughter, but grieved just the same. Especially since it was a slow disease, and as such slowly wasted her away. Now, Faloran, her foster son, was sixteen. And her daughter had finally wasted completely away, dead in one of her fitful sleeps. Faloran waited, uncomfortably, while Opeline cried herself out. Then, sniffling and standing up straight, she shrugged Faloran's arm off her shoulders and looked her foster son straight in the eyes. "Now Faloran.....You've been a good son to me...." Faloran knew she was lying now, because he had never been her son. "But now that Lana's go...gone," Another tear slid down Opeline's cheek. "Now that Lana's gone, I don't think I can bare to think about "my" children anymore." Faloran waited with characteristic patience to see where this was going. But deep inside he already knew. Opeline saw it reflected in his eyes, and continued more hastily. "I cannot bare the thought of having children around me. I think I would break. Faloran. You're of age now, so you are hereby relinquished from my care. No, don't say anything yet. Let me finish. Not only are you relinquished, but I want you out of this Hold. Now I know there's nothing I could do to make you do so, but I don't think your kind heart could bear to watch me kill myself. For that is what I'd do if you stayed. You'd be my death Faloran, and I'm asking you to understand that, and leave." For a moment Faloran didn't know what to say. His foster mother was basically accusing him of her murder if he didn't leave. But then again, if he didn't leave, she would kill herself to make her point. Faloran didn't want to see her do that, even if she did so for the wrongest reasons. Faloran looked at the floor, and took a deep breath. "I understand what you're saying Opeline, and I disagree with your reasoning." He paused, looking at her now fearful face. "But I don't want to stay in a place where I am so actively, "disapproved" of by my own foster mother. Give me a sevenday, and I'll be gone from you for good." Faloran saw the look of relief across Opeline's face as she clenched her fists, and nodded. "A sevenday, no more." Opeline's voice was small, but firm. Faloran nodded and turned around to go to his tiny room, and plan his future. I guess I should have expected it, should have known she'd do that. She's a vindictive wench, that foster mother of mine. Ah well, I was getting ready to leave anyway. I don't have to let her know it was me and not her that put the idea of going away in my head. The problem is where do I go? I've no rank, so I can't foster. I've no Hold to go work at. I suppose I should find a Craft, and go to their Hall to apprentice. I wonder what I'd be good at? Faloran's thoughts continued along these lines through the night and into the darkness of early morning, until he finally fell asleep. Uli's urgent yipping woke him from his sleep. He told her to shut up at first. He was so tired........... "Grrrauuuuggggghhhhhh" Faloran jerked his head off the pillow at the sound of Uli's growl. She never growled, he knew something was up if she was doing it now. But looking around proved useless; there was nothing to see. He decided she must have smelled something from the kitchen she didn't like. "Go 'way Uli. Go play with the o'ter dogs......." Faloran yawned and situated himself back onto his cot, snuggling with his pillow. Suddenly a loud bang found Faloran on his feet and running to the kitchens. Several people, several women, huddled together in the corner, shrieking and crying, while a dark shadow broke another longtable. "What the...?" Faloran stopped immediately, not wanting to be seen. He watched as his figure stuffed all sorts of things into his bags. He then noticed several other figures, armed with long knifes, holding more people by their throats in place. He saw Mikaneel among them. What was going on? Then he saw the body on the floor, covered with blood. It was ol' Nopalik, Mikaneel's brother. He had tried to defend the Hold against thieves, and had been layed bare. Poor Nopalik. Faloran felt himself filling with a hatred for the rootless, holdless, band of thieves as he sneaked farther out of the kitchen. He knew they were Holdless, by the special knot the Holdless daunted themselves with. He began to turn to head back up the stairs to get help. "You' t'er boy! Stop! I'll naught hav ye gittin' out." Faloran felt a knife press against his throat, as the voice whispered in his ear. Oh Shells and Hells! I'm going to be killed! Somebody help me! Faloran's mind screamed to itself. Faloran took several deep breaths, and willed himself to be calm. Trying to not be noticed, he let his left hand fall to his belt knife. "Don' e'fen think about it boy." The knife pressed harder into his throat, and Faloran felt the man jerking him backwards into the kitchen. "Leave him alone! He's done you no harm!" The voice was Opeline's. And Faloran felt a sudden rush of protectiveness for her, as if they had really cared for each other like mother and son. "Sh'up wuman, yu'll be next if ye keep up that chatter." Another man, with a loot sack, answered back. Opeline whimpered but said no more. Suddenly a loud deafening roar could be heard outside in the courtyard, and the sound of men running on the stones greeted the ears of the people trapped in the kitchens. The sound of rustling wings could be heard, along with more trumpets and bugles. Dragonmen! A figure suddenly appeared in the small kitchen doorway. "You there! Stop that!" The band of thieves turned simultaneously toward the dragonrider, and Faloran saw his chance. He put his fists together and drove his elbows into the stomach of his "captor", knocking him back with a "woof". The man spun around, waving his knife at Faloran, and lunged. But Faloran was quicker, and had retrieved his own belt knife from it's place on his hip, and leapt out of the mans way. Faloran held up his knife in warning as the man began to circle him. Suddenly three of four people, probably the dragonriders, were upon the man and Faloran saw the rest of the thieves being controlled in a similar manner. Faloran was so relieved, and not one of the criminals had realized to keep his knife on someone. Each one had thrown their "captives" aside, and rushed for the dragonriders. But the dragonriders, and probably some of the people were of the Hold, Faloran thought, had managed to get each and every one of them under control. He watched as the invaders were led outside in ropes, going swearingly to their fate. Faloran was in the courtyard with the rest of the boys, admiring the dragons. There were sixteen dragons altogether, with others that had already left. The original scare of the event wared off the boys, who now, more than anything, wanted to watch the dragons. Faloran watched as a huge brown stretched his wings and bugled. Very matter-of-factly, Faloran thought. It's like he's letting everybody know he'd here. "Hello lads." The group of boys (although I suppose it's really not fair to call them "boys" any longer, as most of them were about twenty) whirled around to see one of the dragonriders standing before them. The all stared, open mouthed, in awe. Dragonriders never came to this Hold, and never, had bothered to talk to any of the "boys" if they had. The all stuttered appropriate greetings and the dragonrider smiled. He quickly wiped the smile off his face. " I suppose these are bad circumstances to be caught laughing in. Wouldn't want anyone to think I thought this was amusing." The younger lads in the group twittered an agreement. Faloran spoke with a loud, "Yes sir." The dragonrider looked at him oddly, and a faint shadow of a smile played at his lips. "What's your name son?" "Faloran sir." Faloran's voice was meek and not his own. "Faloran? You were in the kitchens when it happened weren't you?" The dragonrider looked puzzled, as if trying to remember. "Yes sir." Faloran spoke louder. "So were Mikaneel, and Bronsley sir." He said, pointing to Bronsely, but not Mikaneel. Mikaneel had joined his family in burying his brother that day. "Ah, I see." The rider nodded. "Would you be so kind as to tell me which one of you has the fire-lizard?" The guys looked at each other, puzzled and unsure. None of them had fire-lizards, nor did anyone in the kitchen that day. Only the Holder had his little blue, and he'd been away meeting with the MasterFarmer that day about crop cycles. "Sir. None of us have a fire-lizard sir." Bronsley answered, confused. The rider too looked puzzled. "Then could you tell the name of anybody in the Hold who has a fire-lizard, and would have seen the event taking place this morning?" Again the boys looked at each other, and then back to the rider. "Sir, no one in the entire Hold has a fire-lizard. 'Cept for the Holder, and he's gone today." "Yes, someone went to fetch him. But that proves a mystery. Was anyone in the Hold, visiting perhaps, that has a fire-lizard?" What was the rider's preoccupation for finding someone with a fire-lizard? Did he so desperately want to see one? "No sir. No one in this entire place has a fire-lizard. No one is visiting, no one was here that would have had one. Why do you ask?" This was Faloran speaking. "Because son, the dragons say they were called here. Naturally it must have been a fire-lizard to relay the message for help. The dragons wouldn't hear the watch-wher...." The rider let the sentence hang, seeing the look on Faloran's face. "I....I called for help." The boy's voice was barely audible, and his face was white as a cloud. He seemed to have shrunk in on himself, and was shaking. "Merrenth!" The rider called his dragon. "What's this about?" We were called here. "Shards Merrenth, I know that much. Who called you?" Why, the boy you have in front of you. I like him. "Of all the irrelevant things Merrenth....Why didn't you say he called you?" You didn't ask. The dragonrider looked at the sky, rolling his eyes. He deserved that. Fardling dragon, this was serious! The rider looked back at the boy. "How long have you been able to talk to dragons?" The rider, K'var, asked accusingly. "I can't talk to dragons." Faloran's voice was getting stronger, but his face was still deathly pale. "Ye-es you can. Merrenth said you called him." "No sir. You don't understand.." The boys face took up an amused look, almost like he was remembering something, and murmured, "No one ever understood..." The boy smiled, and then quickly sombered. "Sir. I didn't know I called anybody! I was frightened, and my mind sorta, sorta screamed. You understand? I didn't think I could actually tell the dragons." K'var stepped back uncertainly. Perhaps he should let the Weyrleader handle this? No, the Weyrleader didn't come today, he was at another Hold. But many dragons had heard the cry for help, surely the Weyrleader's.....No, there was no use thinking about it. He would deal with the situation as best he could. "I understand lad. I understand..." Before K'var could finish, Merrenth interrupted him. There is a clutch on the Sands. We will take this boy? "What did you say?" K'var asked his dragon. But Faloran gulped and jumped. "Me sir?" "No, Merrenth..." K'var listened for his dragon. Who replied like this. I've been feeling him here for a long time now. But I didn't think his mind was strong enough to handle a dragon partner, now I see I was very, very wrong. I have Searched him! He will come with us. K'var knew that was about all he'd get out of his blue, so he let the subject drop. "What kind of plans do you have for your future lad?" Faloran gulped again. What was this rider after? "I've no real plans, yet, for my future. I was thinking about joining a Craft." Joining a Craft? The boy had aspiration to "join a Craft?". The way he'd said it made K'var think it was a huge jump up from his present station. "What's your rank boy...Faloran?" "None sir. I am..was fostered to the assistant headwoman. But I've no rank to speak of." Faloran stood tall, and proudly, letting it be known his lack of rank didn't bother him one bit. "Alright then lad, I've a proposition for you." "A proposition?" Faloran was curious and no longer skeptical of the rider. "My Merrenth says you'd make a fine dragonrider. What do you say to come back with me and stand Candidate for the clutch we've got on the Sands?" Faloran's whole world stopped and started spinning at the same time. Who hadn't dreamed as a child of becoming a dragonrider? Who hadn't dared to hope at some point in their life that a dragon would come and Search them? The older Faloran had dismissed this as childish fancy, but now he wasn't sure he could believe what his ears told him was true. He'd been Searched. Finding words he didn't know he had, he answered the dragonrider. "Sir. With all due respect, I have two conditions. One, you allow me to take my dog, Uli. And two, you bare with me while I scream....YES!" CONTINUE>>>>> |
 |