Don's Pages - originally written around 2001

One of the worst things Dlandon could imagine was that last day at the Harper Hall. It brought back bile to his throat. Every time he thought about it... He shook his head. Now was not the time to think about that.

But his mind kept traveling back... As Dlandon stalked through the underbrush near Eden's Gate, he always thought about it. The way that the master harper had simply waved his hand at him, and dismissed four turns of work on a new form of instrument. Not only that... But dismissed Dlandon entirely from the Hall.

As if his work meant nothing -- or worse, meant LESS than nothing. All the other students had at least attempted to console him. But the one thing that stuck in Dlandon's mind was that at least one of them, an older student already a Journeyman, promised that he'd continue work on the very same instrument, and that some day, Dlandon's name would be honored as its creator.

But that was small consolation now. Now that he was 19 turns old and had invested his whole life since he turned 12 to Harpering. First with drums, he was quite well experienced with them, then he turned to a viol which he loved the sound of, but hadn't the patience to remain among the sedate song writers for it. He had never bothered with a little flute or a gitar, oh he knew how to make the notes come from either of them... But they weren't what he wanted.

He wanted something bolder, something louder.

And apparently, bold and loud weren't the current fashion in the Hall... So he was dismissed.

Just like that.

When a twig snapped near Dlandon, he nearly jumped out of his skin. But it was just his hunting partner, Godel. The dark skinned pair lurked around the small pond waiting for the right moment to strike. The tunnel snake they hunted was simply huge, not like the little ones which came slinking through the holds or weyrs... This was a wild one, grown out in the deserts and thriving upon carrion.

"He'll be a good feast," Godel said. "If we can take him."

Dlandon made a noise and readied his knife. "As if. Let's do it. Look, it's drinking now. Perfect."

They split up, and with Dlandon circling around the right, and Godel on the left, they were certain to confuse the beast enough so that one of them would get a good shot in.

Their luck ran out when the 6 meter long tunnel monster raised its head and bellowed, and ... its MATE came from the shadows to assist! Even the strongly built pair of hunters knew they were outmatched -- but now the had to run, lest they became lunch for their own prey!

Huffing and panting, they were almost at the main pressed road, when Dlandon came up short, pulling Godel aside to hide. "If we go any further," he panted, "the snakes'll find the cothold!"

With eyes wide, they both knew that it was time to lead the huge snakes away from their home. Eden's Gate was small, and filled with rogues and their ilk, but they were friends, and they were important.

They were the only things that Dlandon had left... And he meant to protect them.

So they bolted away, north-west instead of east. The pair of monstrous tunnel snakes kept following, though they had tired and were falling behind. They had likely been resting at the pond after hunting, themselves, or perhaps...

Perhaps it was the dragon above which had been hunting them before the two humans had located them! The tunnel snakes ducked and hissed, but both of them fell so easily to the huge taloned feet of the dragon, as it smashed down onto them from above.

"Heyo---" called out Dlandon, "thanks! So much!" He panted, and Godel joined him in a rousing cheer for their rescuer. True, it was but a blue dragon, but they both knew the value of any dragon -- especially one which just probably saved their lives!

The rider dismounted and dusted himself off, and watched as the blue tore into one of the snakes for a well-deserved meal. The other, it was asked, should be taken to Eden's Gate to be used as smoked meat, they had so little of it to go around...

The rider watched the pair help gut and cut up the beast, but listened to his dragon carefully.

Both of these men are good. They are very good. I like the lighter one, the one with the loose clothing.

"You sir," the rider said, "what is your name?"

Dlandon indicated himself, and looked at Godel. "I'm Dlandon, and this is Godel. I was a harper once, and he's just a poor excuse for a stone worker." Godel smacked his friend on the shoulder, but was smiling widely.

"Well, Dlandon, Godel, you both fit the description for a searching, but... I'm only on search for one. So you know..." The rider looked to Godel, "if it's any consolation, Aden's sands fill rapidly. There is a clutch there now, but I've already got one other candidate to take there, and ... this time I'd be asking if Dlandon here would be willing to come with me."

Godel laughed, "oh, sir, that's fine by me... I've two brothers who would probably skin me like this snake, if I were to be off without them! And besides," he added, leaning in, "Dlandon is in need of some cheering up. I think standing would be the best thing."

"You're so understanding," Dlandon muttered. "But ... yeah, that's about right. If I don't get something positive in my life soon... I don't know what I'll do. At least you have your dragon and that's something that can never be taken away from you..."

The rider looked with a nod, and said, "yes, that's true. Very true."

He was sad, now he is not! I like him! He will do fine! Bespoke the blue, to his rider. "Well, let's get you set up. If this is Eden's Gate, then you probably don't have many people to inform about your departure... Is there anything you want to take with you? Or would you be coming as you are?"

"Oh," Dlandon said, looking at himself -- bloodied, scraped, dirty and sweaty -- "I think I'll at least want to take a good bath first, just so I don't arrive and slay the weyr folk with my stench..."

***

The eggs on Aden's sands seemed to take forever to hatch. But forever wasn't exactly that long, as Nemisath called her candidates onto the sands. The eggs were trembling fiercely and the seventh clutch at Aden Weyr began with a beautiful blue.

A green impressed next, and then a trio of eggs broke shell at the same time. A brown, a green and a bronze. The brown impressed right off, and then, the bronze circled around as he sniffed at them curiously. When he stopped, it was at Dlandon's feet. The small hatchling let off a huge roar and bespoke him --

I like loud noises! So do you! I think I'd like to hear that instrument you worked on, and I'd like to hear you play it! My name's Mavrenuth!

The harper-exile shook his head and let the ringing die down, between his ears. The dragon was loud!

Well, sure, if you really want to," he said, thinking about the piece of hide, wood and metal that he'd still kept with him in his weyr, not daring to take it out lest he be laughed out of the weyr too. "But I think you may want to tone it down just a bit, that's loud even for me!"

With a silly hiss, and his bronze head dropped down low, Mavrenuth bespoke barely a whisper but always clear enough for his Impressed D'on to hear, okay, I will... now... feed me!

The dragonet just ate and ate... Well, he ate, slept and shed. And when the time came for the group of weyrlings to learn how to fly, Mavrenuth did his level, loudest best to beat everyone else into the air. He sure did.

And when the bronze landed on his nose he bellowed that he could have planned that trip better! D'on laughed and tightened his grip on the riding straps he held. There was no way he was going up in the air with this big klutz, bond or no bond.

I heard that! Why do you not love me any more! I love you! And I want to fly! I listen to your music, why won't you fly with me!?

"I will fly with you, once you learn how to do it... Mav, come on... I'd'a been killed if I'd been sitting on your back like the others..." Mavrenuth looked around at the other weyrling pairs, their riders sitting nice and straight on their dragon's shoulders.

Oh. So THAT'S what those things are for! I get it now...

D'on rolled his eyes, apologized to the weyrling master, and started putting the straps on his dragon.

It was less than a year later that the Protectorate was to leave the old world forever. D'on's bronze had grown into a fine medium-sized dragon, with as much grace as he could muster -- which wasn't often saying much.

Mavrenuth was a bright, loud, fine bronze, though. He was proud to have a rider as talented as D'on. When the Kshau protectorate relocated to Alskyr, they fit right in, mostly. It was a bit shaky at first, but they finally got into their role as search and communication runners.

The small amount of land they had to protect was more than enough for the imported dragons. Only a small number of them kept their ability to use flame and burn things, but those who did managed to do it without the aid of any chewed up stones. That made nearly everyone quite happy.

It was the fact that Mavrenuth could now SPEAK out loud to people, not just in their heads, that really amazed -- and perhaps confounded -- D'on and his friends. Mav was likely to blurt out things, but he never meant any harm by it. In fact, he was more or less able to contain himself when it mattered most. He was allowed to let loose occasionally...

And they wait for a chance to fly a mating flight... Though since Aden barely made it out from the last hatching, D'on wasn't sure how they would find a proper place. There would be one. But it would take time.