Charan has always lived in Dawnlight Hold, child of guards and oldest of three boys and two sisters. He took to guarding the way that his parents believed he would. He is a strong, healthy young man.
At the age of 12 turns, he began to help out in the fields by keeping his eye out for bandits and thieves, for raids on the valuable crops and wine grapes were common. Since then, he has taken up crossbow and even flame thrower to keep not only human or animal threats, but against Thread as well. Now, at the age of 18 turns, Charan has high hopes to ride a dragon over the same fields and keep Thread away in a much more dramatic manner.
His family is well known in both Weyr and Hold, producing equal numbers of dragon riders, smithcrafters and guards. They do not normally like to associate with uptight Holder folk, prefering in general to be with the more common people of the land. Charan is no exception, though he is less so than his brother Chraat, who has isolated himself with his wife and their young son, away from even their family.
Charan wishes to fly a brown or bronze dragon, hoping that he will continue the tradition of his family to make them proud. Even if he does not Impress, he will probably continue to defend people, land and livelyhood with his brave use of the flamethrower and his keen eye.
"After all, if we can get these two stupid runners away from their owner, we'll be able to ride them back. They'll never be able to catch up!"
The other man laughed hard, and then they hunkered down in the wet bushes.
Charan also huddled down, but he was already well hidden. He watched the two thieves and waited like they did for the chance to prove himself.
Soon enough, that chance came! The expected caravan of travelers moving through the area was late, no doubt because of the hard rain making the trail even worse than it usually was around these parts. Charan knew every inch of the Hold's grounds, and protected this part with all his heart. The jangling of tack and the grunting of burden beasts could soon be heard over the patter of the rain.
The thieves had been well-informed. The caravan not only had their belongings strapped to the wobbly carts, but they had several young runner beasts loosely tied to the end of the wagon at the back of the train.
Not the best way to move across the countryside, but perhaps the only way this group of traders could. Charan watched as the pair of thieves sidled up to the trail, and counted guards looking out from the narrow window slits of the wagons. Not too many, especially in the rain, Charan thought. Not good. But that meant that he would have his chance--
Sooner than he expected, the thieves bolted out from their hiding places, directly after the last wagon had passed! The runners were startled, but that apparently didn't stop the wagon driver from urging the train ahead. Didn't the guards see the men? It looked as if they were blinded by the rain!
Charan slid from his space near a wet tree and dropped himself to the ground, almost slipping in the mud. He carefully got himself behind the caravan, to block the pair of thieves' exit. By the time he'd done so, they had cut the leather leads on both beasts and each took one. They were about to mount up, when Charan announced himself by clearing his throat loudly!
"You're stealing, men!" He said, it was all he could think of. They looked from each other to the dark skinned man, and then one of them mounted his stolen runner, the other took out a knife!
"We take what we want!" he said, angrily. The other man urged the runner to gallop toward Charan, and unexpectedly he too had pulled a short but deadly knife from his thick coat!
Charan ducked from the blow that was aimed at him by the man on foot, but he didn't expect the runner's rider to turn so swiftly! He was caught but only by the flat of the small blade, which glanced across the back of his head! He'd slipped finally, and landed face first into the dirt of the trail. A runnel of water gave him a bit of refreshment, and cleaned his face, but it all left him open for another attack, which he dreaded would come any moment!
Then, suddenly, the attackers stopped! Charan could hear the other animals bellowing and runners nickering in distress. When Charan looked up, he saw the frightened runner skittering along side the caravan where he knew he was safe. The other had tossed his thieving rider, and had run right into the woods.
Charan saw why, now! There was a dragon hovering above the trail! A rider called out angrily, "you've got thieves on your tail!" The blue dragon swooped overhead, and then found a place to land, some ways behind the caravan. By now, the thieves had run for their lives, and were somewhere in the woods. Charan righted himself carefully, rubbing the back of his head.
"You saved my life," he told the rider, who approached after dismounting.
"I stopped to check on this caravan," he nodded toward the now-stopped wagons. People looked on, muttering, as they spoke. "But Henavath here tells me you're candidate material, and that's even better! My name's K'allin and I'm a search rider for Cincanta weyr."
"Never heard of it," Charan said, "but I'd be more than happy to go with you if you could bring me back to Dawnlight Hold. I need to talk to my captain if I'm standing on sands anywhere. They'll miss me."
"It's a good thing that thief missed you," the blue rider said, helping Charan up, "or I'd have been out a good strong candidate for the weyr!"
The first hatching at Cincanta Weyr was begining! All the day long, everyone had been on edge, and even the normally controlled Charan was feeling it. He did slow, calming exersizes to try and get it out of his system, but then the humming of dragons began, and he knew suddenly why everything was out of whack!
The hatching was here!
It was too bad, Charan thought, that there weren't that many spectators for this hatching. He glanced around and saw that Shard had made it, as he often did, but as for others from Blackstone or the other Protectorate places, he didn't see any.
Erano impressed a bronze -- a bronze! Hatching first! That was a good sign for all! Two greens followed, and then hatched a beautiful but very small bronze.
Filled with pain, suddenly, Charan darted out to the sands where the little bronze had stepped onto a sharp shell piece. It had lodged into the poor thing's foot -- and Charan felt every blazing moment of it! "There Fuseguth, better, huh?" he said, and then realized with tears in his eyes that he'd impressed... And impressed a Bronze!
Sure he was smaller than his bold brother, but a bronze was a bronze was a bronze!
"He's huge already," one of the weyrbrats commented. "How big will he get?"
"How many weyrbrats will ask me that?" Ch'ran shot back, finally tired of the bunch of them. Since Fuseguth had learned to fly, he had a little bit more freedom about where he could be around Cincanta. He often chose to bathe the beautiful bronze in the lake shore, and usually had a large number of weyrbrats to help. Today, they were just getting on his nerves.
I am not huge, Fuseguth bespoke. I am ... only a small bronze. Do you want me to eat more?
You're fine the way you are, Fuseguth, what you are is my dragon -- and I won't have you thinking you're any less brave or strong or sturdy as your big brother.
That apparently made Fuseguth feel quite important, so he waved his wings in the air, startling the children and making them scatter.
Someday soon, you and I will be fighting Thread! I will show my big brother that you don't have to be big to be the best!
Ch'ran laughed...
The Hunters wing will be an excellent front, Fuseguth bespoke.
"No one will ever know we're in the Shadow wing, my friend..." Ch'ran patted the bronze on his shoulder and they betweened to the meeting place. H'lis was already there, along with several others who shared the secret wing. He was the only one in the Hunters wing, but that made it better for the others.
"It'll be good to have someone soloing in their second wing," H'lis pointed out. The meeting gathered and got under way. They had begun to take care of a thief ranging in the Dawnlight area, but had little success so far.
"I've dealt with thieves before," Ch'ran said, proudly. "When do we leave?"
"You'll be posing as a hunter, well," H'lis laughed, "you WILL be a hunter, along with your wing. But the key is that you're to be asking the locals questions, and looking for signs of habitation where there should't be any. Is that something you can do?"
"I can track almost anything, wingleader, I think I can find us a culprit."
"Excellent!" H'lis exclaimed. He was happy to have another bronze, even one that seemed only half the size of his great behemoth named Synesth, in the wing. It lent the wing a bigger air of authority, when they were briefly seen in the air. Ch'ran would have to prove himself and Fuseguth to the rest of the wing, however, before he'd be awarded anything more than a simple wing assignment. But something told H'lis that he would make the right decision and have a good wing third soon.
Ch'ran looked over the Weyr's news listings, and noted with a furrowed brow that there was an interesting flight open at an equally interesting location. He had to investigate this.
El' confirmed it, there was a queen flight (or perhaps just a gold's flight, he wasn't sure of the permanent location of that dragoness) and it was at Aneris. Aneris. There were dragons he knew had hatched there - but that... that was on the Old World, that was on Pern.
I hatched on the Old World, Fuseguth reminded the dark-skinned man. Why are you surprised?
"Well because... a lot of those Weyrs are dust by now, I thought." Ch'ran glanced at his dragon. "You're small and fast, and I know you've been wanting a challenge. Chasing after rogues and thieves is a good duty to have, but..."
It is a proper thing to do, we should go there. The dragon became excited at the thought. And I am not so small that a queen would miss me, she might be the one facing a challenge!
Ch'ran laughed, and found the star charts that went with the Weyr's location. It would be a long flight, indeed. From one world to another, back to their birth world. He'd want to make sure that they arrived a day or two ahead of the flight - all of the Protectorate's records were carefully dated. He would know how to move between both Alskyr and Pern as well as from 'today' into 'yesterday'. Fuseguth would be exhausted from that workout, but in the end, he'd still be fresh when the gold shot into the skies!