Shawn's Pages - originally written around 2002

A strongly muscled but not very bulky young man of 20 turns, Shilawn is the oldest of several siblings born to a minor Holder and his over-stressed wife. Shilawn left their place in Dawnlight Hold, in favor of learning woodcraft at a hall to the south-east. The Harpers in Dawnlight would rather have had him in their hall, as his voice and talent with records and numbers was very strong, even at a young age. But he was the headstrong son of a headstrong man, and he got his way: to the Woodcraft Hall he went. There, he spent the time from age 13 turns to 17, learning.

His work is good, but not remarkable, and he knows it. For that reason, he is not going to become a journeyman, resting at a Senior Apprentice level probably for the rest of his life. Only at the age of 16 did he realize that his skills with wood working would not allow him much profit. Perhaps... A career with the Harpers might have been better? He snuck away from time to time, practicing his numbers and letters, becoming remarkably proficient with prose in the meantime.

But he has been Searched. When wandering back from the Hall and toward Dawnlight, Shilawn was taken off course in the small caravan by a group of robbers. While he was afraid at first, he realized that they were merely trying to survive, like anyone else.

Helping them establish a small homestead was not difficult, as they had stumbled upon Edens Gate, the little community between Dawnlight and Nowhere. Shilawn's woodworking skills came in handy only for some parts of their work, but he learned quickly how to work with clay and adobe, and the home which he assembled with help still stands unharmed by Thread.

He still enjoys working with his hands, and when he has the time, he likes to whittle. But mostly, he is depended upon now to relate words on paper for people in Eden's Gate who cannot write themselves.

It was a chilly afternoon. The sky had cleared itself of rains not so long before, so everything was rather silvery and wet. Shilawn looked out over the Eden's Gate pasture, and sighed. The rain would do them good. But for how long? The seeds from earlier in the season had only come up half-good, disappointing the farmers and worrying everyone else.

How would they survive? Eden's Gate did not depend upon other Holds very much, as they were often looked on as criminals and outcasts and worse. Some of them WERE criminals and outcasts. But some were just... People. Thrown together to survive.

Shilawn glanced back over his shoulder, while sitting on the stone wall surrounding his small garden. His own plants fared little better than the community's, with some variety to his own selection he thought he'd done pretty well. He would share what he had, when the plants matured.

Two of the young children of the cothold scampered by, splashing loudly in the puddles on the hard dirt. There was barely enough good soil to provide a mud bath -- and these two had found it all. Shilawn sighed, and laughed.

"Okay you two -- time to get clean! Your mothers will be furious when they see you!" He bellowed, and they scurried around, pretending to flee.

"S' too cold t' play 'nyway," one of them said, his nose running. Shilawn took both of them into the small hut he lived in, and grabbed what passed for a clean towel.

"That is why you wait for summer, young Tolod."

"But Summer 's so far off!" Said the other, a young girl. "An' I still wanna play!" She stamped her wet foot, sending mud flying. Shilawn patiently cleaned both of them off a bit, and sent them to their parents.

He leaned against the stone frame of his home, watching after them. He loved these children, though they were not his own. He had been here for just over a turn, and this was his home. He never once thought about returning to Dawnlight. And he loved it here, starving, cold and wet, he loved it.

***
When SHE came to Eden's Gate it was because she had angered her parents. Her loud outcry at the Lord Holders destructive and anachronistic ways angered the dark-skinned girl in ways that only outlaws could be.

So she was sent away from Dawnlight. Alone, frightened. Shilawn found her to be charming, and beautiful. Her charcoal-dark skin was countered by bright yellow-tan eyes, richly curled black hair, and a bright smile that he coaxed out of her quickly and easily. Ceanna, her name. She had been a Harper's apprentice at Dawnlight, until she got into some older scrolls in the records rooms.

Right where they didn't want her to be.

"You would think," Shilawn said, while serving his handfasted wife a bit of dinner, "that they would just burn the records, or keep them somewhere that the new harpers didn't know about."

"They would if they could, but fortunately the Harpers Hall has a bit more to say about it than they'd like," Ceanna said, biting a bit of herdbeast steak and washing the meat down with a little wine. "But it was of no use to me, anyway. I didn't even get out with any of them, so... All I can do is wonder what else the Holders are doing to the people there."

"The people here need you," Shilawn said, leaning down and stroking her child-heavy belly. "And I need you."

"I hate to break up this lovely scene," someone said at the door to their cothold, "but we need you too!"

Shilawn stiffened in anger and annoyance, but Ceanna put her hands over her mouth and stifled a laugh. Of all the wonderful things she knew her husband liked, being interrupted in intimate moments was NOT among them! The white-haired rider at the door looked very familiar to both of the inhabitants.

"Arard?" Shilawn said, "is that you? Are... You are a rider now!?"

"See what you miss?" A'rd said, and reintroduced himself to the pair. The men had been in the Harpers rooms long before Ceanna had, together but briefly before Shilawn left for the Woodcraft hall.

"Anyway," The rider said, leading the pair of them outside, "I need your help, everyone is requested to stand for searching."

It was true, nearly everyone within easy walking distance of the main dirt stretch of Edens Gate was there already, from youngest to eldest. It didn't amount to very many, Ceanna whispered, but Shilawn nudged her into silence.

The blue dragon that A'rd rode was joined by another blue of similar appearance. That one had a female rider, who dropped to the ground. She and her blue approached the line of people, and the dragons seemed to confer.

They were particularly interested in Shilawn and Ceanna for some reason. The second blue, Analyssa's Solath, snorted at Ceanna.

Her belly is swolen with your egg? He bespoke Shilawn.

Taken aback, the woodworking harper nodded, eyes wide. "Yes... Mine."

You are a strong man. That would be good for our dragons. Aneris is my home. Would you like to see it? There is a clutch on the sands, and I think you ... perhaps your egg when it hatches, too... will be good candidates.

"You -- I --" Shilawn stammered, while A'rd and Analyssa laughed to one another.

Shilawn turned to his wife, and with a wild smile, he said, "I've been searched!"

"You could bring her with you," Analyssa said, "Aneris is not all that far, but I would not go between in her condition. You... will have a lot to deal with when you impress, Shilawn of Eden's Gate! The clutch will probably hatch about the same time your wife does!"

***

Ceanna made the weyr comfortable, if she could not make herself so. Shilawn fawned over her in the later afternoon several sevendays after their arrival to the Weyr. They had to fly overland, due to Ceanna's condition.

With a grin, Ceanna said, "Shilawn, your lucky day will come very soon... But today, today is mine!"

With an eyebrow up, and a thoughtful hand on his beard, Shilawn looked at Ceanna and asked, "why is that, my love?"

In answer, Ceanna looked guiltily down to the floor. Below her, there grew a stain of water, hers had broken at last!

With a stammer and a hunch to his stance suddenly, Shilawn said, "it -- we -- you -- healer! I get healer!"

He left Ceanna standing in the weyr, laughing her head off.

***

"What shall we call him?" Shilawn asked, while the dark-skinned child of his cooed quietly resting on Ceanna's breast. "He is so beautiful... Like you."

Ceanna chuckled. "Well, my father's name was Nacat."

"And my mother's is Loawel." They pondered. What name would be good for their precious first child? Their own names were too similar already, when Shilawn had announced what his short rider's name might become, Sh'awn. Difficult to combine that. They had spoken on names much in the past.

"Tolek," Ceanna said, suddenly. The boy perked up and giggled.

"Tolek it is," Shilawn said, peacefully.

***

It was very late in the evening. Tolek and his sire were asleep, barely, and Ceanna hummed to herself while sipping at some juice. The healer had said that her birth was one of the cleanest, easiest births he'd ever seen. That made her smile, though she couldn't rightly say why.

Tolek squirmed and began to make hungry sounds, so Ceanna reached to him and gave in to his demands, lest he wake his father.

That was the job of the dragons outside. Down below, in the hatching sands, the hatching was on! Tolek stopped suckling, and picked his head up loosely, eyes almost focused -- he was less than a day old, Ceanna mused, and he's got dragonriding in his blood.

Shilawn shook himself awake, and before the knock came to their weyr door, he was half dressed in the candidate robe. "Should you... Oh, Ceanna, you must come down with me. Do you want me to carry you?"

Laughing, Ceanna had to agree to it, since he'd already picked her and their son up. They went down the halls to the hatching sands, where only a few very wakeful people sat already.

The hatching began with a good strong brown, and then proceeded like any hatching ought. Greens here, blue there, and... Then a bronze! A beautiful one, he seemed to know just what he wanted.

He wanted Shilawn. Right past the other males on the sands, the bronze made his way quickly.

I like how you show your new hatchling off already Sh'awn. Can I see it? Is he like me?

"He'll be hungry -- but he won't itch like you, Sordath!"

***

"It's been a turn, and look at how they've both grown..." Sh'awn said. His child Tolek was standing and making all kinds of noises, while his bronze Sordath was almost ready to fly! It was making Sh'awn nervous, that he would have to risk breaking his neck while training...

But he'd never fallen from the young dragon's back yet, and he never planned to. And he was sure that his son would be proud of him, and perhaps even become a rider himself! Ceanna was fit for the weyr life, keeping herself occupied by taking down records and organizing the scrolls found in the records room. She also tended some of the children of the weyr, her own pride and joy among them.

Sordath was very protective of his rider, as well as his rider's offspring. In fact, one morning the chill brought in a large tunnel snake from outside, and Sordath killed it! He found that the attention that he got by doing that was quite fine.

I will hunt another snake if you want!

"You just wait until they come to us, Sordath. If that's okay?" Sh'awn patted the bronze on his nose.

The dragon pouted for all of a candlemark, and then, most likely, forgot all about it.

***

With thread falling, Sordath boldly took to the sky. The rest of the weyrlings and senior groups were up after him, the dragon was so eager all the time. If it wasn't thread, it was tunnel snakes, or chasing away rogues from the weyr.

But this, this flying blasting great fire into the air, charring beyond recognition this silvery stuff called thread... THIS was what he was made for!

Sh'awn gritted his teeth against the wind, and clutched the riding straps. He was lucky that the dragon was not the biggest of bronzes. He wasn't the smallest either, and certainly much bigger than the browns from the clutch, but Sordath was still large enough to lead a wing.

He proved it again when he dove through three clumps of thread, charring the center one and whipping his wings into the others to its sides, until they blew together --- where he charred that too!

Sordath, you're just amazing!

I learned it from you!