Year's End
Ponevi slouched against the wall, scowling. Nearly Year's End, and he was stuck on firestone duty. Again. All right, so he and Ibanu--B'nu, he corrected himself--had never really been the best of friends, but the red rider was only two years older than he! He had no right to order him about like that, none at all, even if the older boy was Weirlingmaster, replacing old P'pel. After all, he, Ponevi, was not a weirling.
Despite his best efforts, and attendence at several Hatchings (including one off-world) the lad was still unbonded. Every time, he'd come away crestfallen, sinking deep into frustrated depression for weeks after. The Weira had actually noticed -- she'd somehow found time to stop by during his lessons and tell him to chin up, the dragon for him just hadn't been shelled yet. That had been a year ago, when B'nu had come home for good and Ponevi was spending almost all of his time sulking because he should have Bonded at that hatching. It just wasn't fair! Some crazywoman had grabbed him in the kitchens while he was exploring and sent him off to fetch more meat from the stores... next thing he knew, he'd missed the Hatching. That had not been a good day.
Since the Weira'd spoken to him, he'd tried to be a little more optimistic about the situation. After all, many of the Weir's riders hadn't bonded till they were nearly twenty. The Weira herself had been nineteen, though girls generally were older... And not every Weir-bred boy did Bond, he knew. Maybe he just wasn't one of the lucky ones. That was the point at which he asked D'me, one of the Weir's dragonhealers, for a prenticeship. He'd need to know a trade, and wouldn't it be better if it kept him near the dragons?
Ponevi loved the dragons. Every dragon he'd met, he remembered: what her name was, her rider (most of the time), her color and cycling, what position the pair flew, and what the dragon's temperament was. He'd been born here--or somewhere like here--and he simply couldn't imagine a life without dragons.
He hoped... he hoped so much it hurt inside when he saw the younger weirlings, faces lit up, eyes unfocused, talking, joking with their dragons... maybe this time he'd be lucky. Seuth was rising again soon, blizzard or no, and the Candidatemaster had told him he'd be allowed at any Hatching here till he turned twenty, and...
But for now, there was the firestone. Sighing, he picked up the two hefty sacks again, one under each arm (at this rate, he'd be bulky as a Mastersmith by the time he finally Bonded) and stepped back out into the snow.
The fistful of snow hit him like an avalanche, knocking him off-balance and nearly making him drop one of the heavy sacks. "Gotcha!" a girl's voice called out, laughing, and then the girl herself arrived to help him steady his load. "Here," she grinned up at him, "looks like I caught you at a bad time, then? 'Tessa and I have been helping out in the kitchens, we just got done. Thought I'd come out and give you a hand. And a couple of talons, too," she added, as a pair of sleepy, lizard-like heads poked out of her jacket's hood. "Rebel and Laia don't like the cold too much, but I managed to convince them."
Ponevi grinned back, mood lightening. "I couldn't even get mine awake! All they do is snooze on Dalsath's neck ridges, eat, and scold me whenever I come in. Poor dad, can't even go out without Flare nipping at him for disturbing his nap!"
Thanha laughed. "I'll send my pair over, too, then-- they're not much help in this weather, even with the wind letting up. Here, you give me that bag..." She hefted it with some difficulty, but managed to get it up on one shoulder. "All right. Now, lead on! To which forsaken nook or cranny must we deliver this lot?"
-=-=-=-
Half an hour or so later, chores completed, the friends sat warming up in front of the big kitchen fires. Ketessa had joined them, already changed into her feast-day best. The dark-haired girl looked, Ponevi thought, even prettier than usual--he failed to notice Thanha's irritation with the other girl. Thanha, too, was dressed in her best--a simple blue gown, which had earlier been covered with a long jacket and scarf. Ponevi, on the other hand...
"You know, you really ought to wash your clothing more often." 'Tessa gave his stained shirt a long look over her steaming mug. "You might actually be able to find a girl willing to dance you."
"Nahh. I've got something else in mind." He'd barely been able to keep from telling Thanha earlier, but he wanted to tell both of his friends together.
"What is it?" Thanha took another long, warming sip of the wassail. "More eggs?"
"Hah, no. Already got enough mandies to last a pair of lifetimes. No, this is something different. Something completely out of the ordinary."
"Yes?"
He leaned closer to the two, voice lowered in a conspiratorial whisper. "Fireworks. And I know where they're keeping 'em! We could get a good look at them, and maybe borrow a little one to set off on our own, later."
Thanha took a bit of convincing, but Ketessa was all for it, as he'd known she would be.
-=-=-=-
"It's awfully dark in here... there's all these bundles and things, and some sticks, but I can't see a thing!"
"Hold on a second... I borrowed one of those sulfur sticks from Kala in the kitchens."
A light flares in the dark. Three pale faces look at each other.
"Oh, sh--"
And everything goes light...
-=-=-=-
I am entrusting to your care a trio of young troublemakers, in hopes that you and others will be able to teach them responsibility where I have not. If, along the way to maturity and care around black powder, they Bond, I will be quite pleased; perhaps you know of a suitable clutch?
Of the three, Ponevi is the only one who has been off-world before, so please take care not to frighten the girls more than you have to. I've told them about your appearance, but they may still be shocked--please don't take this as an insult, try to remember that they are still quite young.
Give Zhuuqshoth my regards, and happy wishes to you both this Year's End.
Fair flying
--Fair compensation will be provided, of course, whenever you decide that the children are ready to return to the Weir. You may choose the form of payment; salamander eggs, metals, gemstones, or fine craftwork up to a certain point.
-=-=-=-
Maleka:
Don't worry, the kids are fine. I've found just the place for 'em, too. Zhuu's been having a bit of fun lately, and it turns out there are babies on the way... the kids will be standing at the Hatching, though there are loads of other clutches, too, so no guarantees of who'll get what. I've never seen so many whites in my life, but I figure they're not like yours, since most seem to be fertile enough.
I'll write again as soon as anything interesting happens. (Ponevi's been letting my use his Flare for messages... Sharding useful, those creatures are. I think I may just take you up on the offer of a mandie egg or three, when I'm all through here.)
--Garareg