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It was a big place, this Ryslen. Everyone had heard of it, of course, especially at the Healing Den. Baeris' favorite dragons - and people - tended to be there, more often than not. Of course they also spread out to Vella Crean, Cy and the rest, but from the way that Baeris always reacted to the big pawed, high-crested dragons, Cryten thought that she'd like what happened here.

When Cryten got there, he was greeted by several human-folk, and a host of others. Escorted to the dorms for the waiting candidates, he marvelled at the beauty of this still-being-carved site.

But what he really marvelled at were the dragons sitting on the sands. Their clutches of eggs were separate, and the mothers seemed to guard them casually but firmly. There were four, but only the one seemed agitated about having people near her nest.

She paced around, and sat again, then got up and moved her eggs.

"She's the last on the sands," Cryten said to someone, and they nodded.

"Yes, her eggs are freshly lain, so when the others hatch she'll probably feel a little more comfortable."

"When the others hatch, she'll be in a tizzy." Cryten said. His guide furrowed his brows and glanced at the half-cheetah.

"Why do you say that? She'll be happy to have those others out of her way."

"Of course she will," Cryten pointed out. "But in the mean time, there will be a hoard of people here every time one of the eggs so much as twitches.

"... that's a good point," he said, and they went away on their tour.

Eventually, over the course of only a week or so, one of the smaller clutches was announced as hatching. It was clear that everyone had an interest in this nest - they were Hathian dragons coming from Ryslen's sands, a very rare occasion indeed. However, he'd also heard of the big Azon hatching that had a couple too. This was good - it meant new blood for Hath's Warren. But honestly, Cryten knew that he wouldn't be bonding at that nest. He and the other candidates, all save a few night-dwelling vampires, came down and waited. He was right, too, there were only a half dozen eggs, and none of their hatchlings came to Cryten, even though there was one unbonded of them.

Little more than ten days later, however, the next - slightly larger - nest was trembling. The mother was a pretty pastel-rainbow, and the sire was a gorgeous Ryslen Flurry copper. Cryten could only guess what kinds of colors would come from this nest.

And he didn't have to wait long to find out, either. Because the very first egg of this nest broke open to reveal a large-brown sized hatchling, male. He had silver wings, and his hide shone brightly in pinks, oranges and yellows. He looked as though he were going to head toward the candidates, but then suddenly turned to look at one egg.

There was an odd blackness, a shadow, crossing the egg.

Cryten! The dragon bespoke to him, nothing more. There was such intimacy in the sending, so strong an idea, that Cryten didn't even need to ask any more.

"I see, Kaalerith," and Cryten moved to the other egg. He swept the dark thing away from the bright egg, and the moment that he did so, the egg snapped open. She'd be a beautiful dragoness herself, but she wasn't meant for Cryten.

He already had his bond. Proudly, Cryten and Kaalerith strode out of the red sands into the kitchens. "You did the right thing, showing me that. She'd never have been able to break through, if he'd been sitting there all day."

Indeed, Kaalerith nodded, as he dug into his first meal hungrily. Cryten's mouth was watering at the sight of the meat, too... He would have to decide whether he'd be civilized, or Kin.

At the moment, of course, since his instincts and his dragon were so strong and new, he dug into his own bowl of cut meat, surprising many at the kitchens.

"What about the feast?!" Someone whined, and Cryten lifted his head out of the bowl with bloody chin.

"I can eat then too!" he laughed.

***

It was while Cryten and Kaalerith were practicing their flight readiness, that the Kin-type had a strange feeling in his head. Almost like bonding again - but not. He and his dragon both looked to the sky, and saw an arrival of a blue dragon to the caldera.

"That's a familiar dragon," Cryten said.

"WATCH YOUR WINGS!" Yelled the fledge master, and Cryten narrowly ducked down as Kaalerith folded his wings to avoid crashing into another dragon pair.

That was close, he bespoke, why did you distract me like that? What is wrong?

"Nothing's wrong, Kaalerith, it's a visitor."

Not just any visitor, it looked as though Wildstorm had been brought by Vanya, another Zekiran. When they landed (and were thoroughly chastised for being all head-in-the-clouds instead of eyes-on-the-dragons) Cryten rushed down to the landing area. Kaalerith landed near him, still breathless from their flight and near crash.

So this is she.... you have dwelled upon her image for days at a time. Sometimes I wonder if you like her more than you like me...

"Kaalerith," sighed Cryten, "this is Wildstorm, and no I do not, you big lump. I could never. Sorry -" he spoke to the tailed Zekiran immortal, "he thinks that you might be competition for my attention."

Wildstorm grew a naughty grin, "I might be."

"We're not allowed, not until the dragons are older," Cryten warned. But his own grin was pretty big too. "So you're here to visit?"

"I'm here to pair with a dragon," Wildstorm said, "I just couldn't get it out of my mind. What's it like? Father's dragon is different from these Ryslen ones, aren't they?"

Cryten laughed at all her questions, and eventually brought her down to Jeyann's office for official paperwork.

***

With Wildstorm there and her beautiful Prism Storm dragoness growing at a marvelous rate, Cryten realized that his stint here was almost over. He'd spent more than a full year here at Ryslen, and had almost entirely forgotten to send anyone any letters.

You could rectify that, Kaalerith said. There are flitters, and you know you could play games with those numbers you've told me about.

"... What?" Cryten said, surprised at the canniness of the dragon's response.

At the Healing Den. Right? The dragon tilted his head, a proud Ryslen dragon through and through with his bright crest and lashing spaded tail. Cryten knew that his dragon was not only one of the larger rare-colors in the place, he was probably among the smartest. Now that he'd overcome his annoying habit of chasing off Wildstorm and Keluanya, of course. He was more in the habit of wanting to be near the weyrling. Hello? Are you even listening to me? I think you could make a bunch of notes and send them all in order, who would know? It's beyond time, your birthplace. Right?

Smirking, Cryten realized that he'd struck the nail right on the head - "you're totally right, I can do that."

And in order to do that, he had to actually acquire a flitter. It was a good time do that, too. A harvest festival was being planned, and he knew that at any given gather, one could find a variety of different flitter eggs. It was only a week wait, for the gather grounds to fill and for the riders to start fixing themselves up for partying.

Cryten held a couple Marks in his hands and began to wander the stalls. Wildstorm was out there too, he could hear her laughing, and he wondered if he ought to get her a gift? Probably. Gifts were always good no matter where someone was from or how old they claimed to be.

One stall was from a wonderful weyr called Maura Lynna, and he dropped a mark for a particularly large egg. Then, he found a stall that had a wide variety of clothing. From leather goods to fine silks, all manner of dyed, rough, natural and synthetic fibers were there. Cryten's vivid imagination could see Wildstorm in anything - wanted to see her in nothing, because he knew that was always best.

But he selected two items and paid a decent price for them. And off he went to wait for his egg to hatch, and for their graduation exersizes.

***

It wasn't even four days later, when the egg he'd bought broke open to show off a dark, aggressive green flitter. She was gigantic, the size of what one might assume was a brown or even bronze flit. "You're a big girl, aren't you!" Cryten said, "now, eat up! You've got training ahead of you..."

He fed her and started working on visualizing the entrance to the Healing Den, just in general, for her. It wasn't hard, and Kaalerith helped him beam these happy thoughts to the flitter.

What are you going to name her? She is big, but she will never be big like me.

"Nothing will be, except maybe your offspring, Kaal..." Cryten said. "And I think we'll call her Scammer - but don't tell mother that."

So went the weeks, three in fact, until Cryten was sure that Scammer knew her role. He tested her and with one letter had her bring it to his mother Tessrabia at the Den. The sign over the entrance to the Healing Den said "181" that day, shortly before he'd gone off. So... he had spent a while at Planet Twenty, and then waited here... "Three twenty," he said, forcing a number in his mind to imprint on Scammer. He rolled his letter up, and handed it to the flit, who took it and cuddled it to her breast lovingly. Then, she flew off, vanishing to the Nexus. A few minutes later, she returned with another letter, one from Tess, in her grasp. She was chilled, of course, and Cryten put her up on his shoulder and let her nuzzle his neck for warmth.

"She did it, Kaal," Cryten said, "you were right on. You sly dragon."

That would seal his working fate for the next few days. Pretty soon, though, it had become time for Wildstorm to graduate as well. The dragons had all been born fairly close together in fact, and it seemed like certain of them matured to adulthood more quickly than others.

The Prism Storm dragoness was lovely, especially on this early winter morning. Her wings fanned out, and showed the audience at the commencement exersize a full rainbow of color. Her glistening storm colored hide was unmarred by the presence of a harness - Wildstorm would be damned if she would make her precious bond wear one of those things. Cryten knew the feeling... But he'd followed the rules anyway. They flew with harness or without, and he knew that once they got to Planet Twenty again, they'd both be flying freely more often than not.

When the group of prismatic and cloudy dragons and riders went their separate ways, Cryten knew that the time had come to present his gifts and they should go - home to Planet Twenty!

**

Eventually the pair of dragons would come together over the Plateau, kicking off what (was) a major event in all their lives. A furry festival, (2023, that didn't really happen, for the dragons at least - sorry) and a more permanent arrangement suitable to the riders.

Up at the top of the windy mountain where Wildstorm made her home was where Cryten and Kaalerith nested as well. He was happy that Wildstorm rarely bothered to dress up, but the gift he'd given her did at least make both his mother and grandmother reasonably happy. Only a little dip in that enthusiasm was apparent when he announced that he would be residing permanently on Planet Twenty.

"It's really time that we make it formal," he told Tess, with grandmother Baeris standing passively nearby, a faint smirk on her lips. "Besides, the dragons, you know. They do their thing."

Baeris's smile got wider, as Tessrabia rolled her eyes and gave off a more motherly sigh than expected.

"I expect we'll see quite a few shiny dragons from their nest," Tess hugged her son, before letting him go 'home'.