Rask and Gire, written around 2002

Ramask and Girelan

Though not brothers by blood, this odd pair of 20 year old Ramask and 13 year old Girelan have been inseperable since Gire was rescued by the elder lad.

When Ramask heard that thread was falling around Eden's Gate, many turns ago, he strayed near the runner pens. It was a good thing, too. Because when the silvery stuff was descending to the ground uncaught by dragons -- this was before the true inception of the Protectorate -- there was a young toddler running about in the muddy dirt out by the grazing field.

With the adults out farther than earshot with their flamethrowers, and the other children all inside their small cotholds being comforted by their mothers and aunties, Ramask knew that the only way to get this child in was to do it himself.

Braving the thread as it fell, Ramask darted out, grabbed the young lad, and barely missed getting struck not only by Thread on his way back, but also narrowly missed getting torched by one of the elders with their flamethrower!

Always considered very lucky, Girelan grew up with the idea that he and Ramask would always be together. So now, with dragons in the sky, the pair of them have been Searched and are on their way to becoming a team -- hopefully -- in the skies!

"Ramask, couldn't you just please stop moving for a moment?" Asked the journeyman healer responsible for checking the candidates for physical problems.

"Probably not," he said, quirkly smile twitching up on his face. The healer rolled her eyes and continued her work while the young man inflated his chest or made muscles with his back for her.

'For' her... She was a healer, for Faranth's sake! She'd seen everything... Just rarely enough these young men were so full of themselves, that she would give anything to see their faces when they found out she'd no interest in them whatsoever...

Since he wasn't getting any response, Ramask slumped a bit and breathed slowly so she could check his heart. She put his tunic back into place and nodded. "You're good to go. Now, your little friend? Is he your brother?"

"Yes and no," Ramask said, broadly grinning. The younger boy sat up on the exam table and had the same silly grin on his face. "Would you like to hear the story?"

Letting out a long sigh, the healer said, "I've got to check your skin. No I don't need to hear your story. You're clean. Go. Get outta my infirmary."

Laughing, the pair went outside again and looked at the dragons in the courtyard at Thayor Weyr. They were big, healthy ones. Some older ones with scarring and threadscored sails looked a bit worse for wear. It was obvious they were being used only as transport dragons, since they probably weren't able to fight thread any longer.

Girelan approached one blue rider with his big eyes wide. "Are you on that dragon there?" He asked, and the rider nodded.

"Good observation, son. Are you here with the searched Candidates?"

Girelan nodded. "Yes sir. Me and Ramask both. But I bet he gets a bronze."

The rider laughed. "Now, now, don't go guessing until you've even seen the eggs, young man! There may not even be a bronze in that clutch! Why, it's only more rare to have a queen!" He ruffled Girelan's hair and strode away.

Girelan stood watching him, face turned oddly into a mask of concentration and thought. "I bet he will. He's the best guy in the world."

Ramask lounged in the sun with some of the other candidate possibles, and they shared over-the-top stories of their own exploits. At least one poor young Holder's son moped off to the side, and when Ramask looked at him, he almost winced. There were wounds on this boy that said to Ramask he'd been beaten all the time at his Hold.

Ramask held his hand out softly, when the others had clumped up to watch one of the green dragons take off. "When you Impress, no one will ever be able to do this again," he said to the boy. To Ramask he looked to be about 15 turns old, perhaps 16, or small for his age. That was probably it: he was small and though he didn't look weak, if he had older brothers, they would be taking the Hold and the pride and everything else that a Holder could offer his sons.

The boy just nodded. "I hope... I hope I do impress. I can't see why a dragon would want me, though. My own father didn't. Even my sisters can beat my butt."

"Then you'll have to learn how not to get beat!" Ramask said, and dragged the poor lad out to the barracks to teach him some 'moves'. Girelan watched this, with a grin on his face. There was no jealousy between them, in fact they'd had fights and rants before but they both knew that their bond was deeper than silly things.

So when Girelan tugged on Ramask's sleeve to show him that the day was almost ended, it was time for them to stop practicing, Ramask bowed to his holder friend, and they went on as if there had been no interruption between them at all.

Ramask had already taught Girelan those 'moves' long before. And if the boy's frame was any indication, he'd be bigger and stronger than Ramask soon enough -- able to use his techniques far better with the bulk of a dragon rider, too.

Ramask always wondered if Girelan had dragon riding blood in his past. He had to. There was something about the boy that said, 'hero in the making'. Though of course, Girelan would always say the opposite, indicating that his own hero was already made.

***

The hatching day arrived at Thayor and Girelan was simply vibrating with energy. Ramask tried to calm him down, but to no effect. For when the eggs began to hatch, everyone's attention went to them, and they couldn't help but tremble.

The two blues who broke shell with another brother and one green sister remained on the center of the sands for a moment. The green had given the smaller blue a nasty cut, while running past him to impress her bond.

You are hurt. Come, your human will help. So will mine. I think I will like him quite a bit.

That bigger blue nudged the smaller one over, and they both reached Girelan and Ramask. The bigger one looked with a gentle swirling to his eyes, as he impressed Ramask.

I am Reth. Did I do the right thing, helping my brother?

Meanwhile, to Girelan, the smaller blue announced, You are my rider, aren't you? Well, Reth told me that you could help me. I think he is right. I think he is very nice. You are very nice too! My name is Valleth.

The young men looked at each other, and their dragons, and addressed each one. G'ire said, "Yes, Valleth, that was very nice of Reth to help you, wasn't it?"

"Very noble, Reth," R'ask said to his own blue.

"I thought he'd get a bronze for sure," muttered G'ire.

"I told you this was a green's clutch," replied R'ask, smiling as though he HAD impressed a bronze. After all, every dragon was important, and now they would be in the same wing, probably!

***

With the Weyrling days coming strongly and easily to Rask and Gire, and true to form they were in the same fighting unit, their blue dragons had almost started to even out in size. Valleth and Reth remained quite steady partners in everything except one:

Looking at the girls. Valleth and Gire insisted that blues might some day be able to fly a gold. Reth and Rask were of the opinion that greens were more than fine enough for them!

"But... even Jeremoth is a blue, and Shard's the protectorate's leader!" Gire pointed out as they oiled their dragons' harnesses.

"And Jeremoth has flown what? A white!" Rask laughed.

I would not fly a gold. They are too big! I like the greens. They are small and fast, and beautiful.

Valleth disagreed with a snort and his wings flared up. I would be able to! I know it!

Both men chuckled, and continued to work.

***

The days were cold, when the weyr vanished. Gire and Rask along with their brave blues were out on a patrol, and Shard had warned them of such things happening to weyrs. Abruptly, when they attempted to fly back to Thayor, there was nothing there to reach. A mountain, devoid of any habitation. No dragons, no people.

Though their human bonds panicked a bit, the dragons remained calm.

Remember, we are supposed to go to the Protectorate now. Valleth reminded them.

We know where to go, Reth spoke to his bond.

"Then... take us there. This is too weird..." Rask and Gire clung to their dragons, leaving whatever they had behind at the weyr. Some clothing, some memories. Nothing of so great importance that they wanted to try reaching the place backward in time - that would be too dangerous for a pair of blues like theirs.