A Childhood Dream

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 24th November 2024

Characters: A'ten, L'keri
Description: L'keri watches the Hatching to see if his son will Impress
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 3, day 22 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Z'renh, Zaphare, Saibra

L'keri

Arten felt the heat of the Hatching Cavern enfold him as the candidates
filed in, rising from the sands and from the mass of people in the
packed stands. At first it was a relief from shivering in his thin white
robe, and then it grew uncomfortable, burning through the soles of his
feet, his skin prickling with sweat. The noise was incredible: excited
chatter from the colourful blur of the crowd, the deep bass hum of the
dragons which resonated through his body, the thudding of his heart.

This was both a moment he'd dreamed about since he was old enough to
remember, and ever since he'd left the Weyr, had tried to forget.

**This is a chance to see a Hatching up close,** he told himself. Very
few tavern boys would have the opportunity to see a clutch of eggs
hatching, let alone from the Sands, and with a golden one among them.
All he had to do was make sure he didn't get between a dragonet and
their chosen candidate - he didn't want to go home scarred by claws -
and this would be a day he'd remember for the rest of his life.

As for that childhood dream... he firmly squashed any hope in that
regard. Hardly anyone Impressed their first time; he remembered that
much. He was just here to watch, and to put an end to his father's nagging.

He looked up, trying to locate L'keri among the horde of weyrfolk and
visitors, but before he could, there was a sharp crack off to his left,
louder than he'd expected. The crowd noise faded to a murmur. Arten
looked, and saw a thin line zig-zagging down the hardened shell of a
large egg. Another snap, and it shattered, revealing a large dragonet,
his hide gleaming bronze and his eyes glowing in rainbow facets.

Despite himself, Arten felt his breath catch. His spirits rose - and
fell again, as the bronze picked himself up and headed straight for
another boy. Zorenh, the Wingleader's son.

**Never mind. Imagine what Da would think if his son Impressed a
bronze.** He'd been listening to his father complaining about stuck-up
bronzeriders most of his life. But somehow, he knew L'keri wouldn't
mind, and when he saw the look on Zorenh's face...

Forgetting his plan to watch only, he looked around the Sands as more
eggs began to hatch. Green, green, blue, green... Some hesitated,
looking over the white-robed candidates, while others headed straight
for their choice with single-minded determination, but none showed an
interest in him. Arten remembered the few classes he'd attended, and
tried to reach out with thoughts of what he loved. His sister, his bond
with Winter, his father's brown Rhalith. His father.

**I would love you. I'd be a good rider. Please choose me!**

***

Up in the stands, L'keri sat with his wingmates, leaning forward with
his gaze fixed intently on one boy. If the intensity of his hopes could
have drawn a dragonet to Arten then half the clutch would be converging
on him, but so far none had approached him. Beside him, Eluri watched
with a matching expression, her small hand clutching her father's, and
sighed in disappointment as a light sandy-brown hatchling passed him by
with only a brief glance before moving on. Arten's little blue
firelizard, Winter, was perched on her shoulder, and he rubbed his head
comfortingly against her cheek.

"Who'd you bet on, L'keri?" A greenrider leaned forward from behind him.

"What? Arten, of course." He glanced back, distracted.

"No, for the gold egg," the rider replied, as if that should have been
obvious.

He couldn't remember. "One of the weyrbred girls, I think. From River
Bluff?"

"You'd better check, you don't want to lose out. My marks are on
Zaphare. History shows the golds choose holders more often than not, and
not little girls of twelve or thirteen, but not too old. Look at Saibra
and Ashela. But she's not too obvious so the odds on her were still
pretty good..."

"Da!" Eluri tugged at his arm and his breath caught. "Look!"

Below them, a small dragonet was stepping out of the remains of his
shell with the dignity of a Lady Holder. Slowly but surely, he moved
towards one Candidate, who was standing as still as if he feared moving
would break the spell.

***

Arten froze, the other brown forgotten in an instant as his eyes locked
with a shining blue-green gaze. In his mind, light flickered, then
blazed. He saw a blur of colour, felt damp wings and gritty sand between
his clawed feet, and he was bathed for a moment in the warmth of a
hundred dragon minds, reaching out in welcome.

Without thinking, forgetting even to look out for other wandering
hatchlings, he ran forward and dropped to his knees before the dragonet.
He was perfect. His colour was the deep, rich brown of strong klah, his
neck curved gracefully down to the line of his ridged back and his tail,
his delicate wings were translucent where they fanned out to dry.

"Oh, you're beautiful!"

}:I choose you, A'ten.:{ The voice in his head startled him. It was
light, young-sounding, but confident and certain. }:And I am so very,
very hungry!:{

"I know..." He could feel the hunger gnawing in his belly, far stronger
than with his firelizard. But there was something he had to do first. He
looked up into the stands, and over the applause and the humming, he
heard his name.

"Corvanth!" he called, the tears shining in his eyes. "His name is
Corvanth!"

***

"ARTEN!" L'keri leapt to his feet with a yell. He punched the air, he
hugged his daughter and his wingmates and a few startled strangers, and
he fairly danced with delight in the stands, not caring how ridiculous
he looked or that the people in the row behind were tutting and trying
to see around him to the gold egg.

His son had Impressed!

"What's his name?" Eluri demanded, a wide grin on her face, her voice
slightly hoarse from her own screams.

L'keri had no idea. He realised with some embarrassment that he'd been
shouting too loudly to hear.

}:Corvanth.:{ Rhalith's voice was tolerant, but warm, resonant with his
rider's memories of how Arten had once played with his father's dragon.
}:He is a fine brown. I will be honoured to fly with them one day.:{

"His name is Corvanth." He waved as the dazed boy led his new lifemate
from the stands, and felt his heart soar as Arten - now A'ten - looked
up and waved back with an uncomplicated joy he'd not shown in far too long.

"Can we go and see him?"

He looked across the packed row of seated spectators. If he'd been alone
he might have been tempted to clamber over them in his rush to get out,
but he shook his head. "Better wait until the end. It's more respectful,
and he'll be starving. But Rhalith can hear him."

He squeezed the girl's shoulders as they sat down, too giddy to focus on
the remaining eggs. "He's looking forward to meeting his family, just as
soon as we can get to him. Very, very soon."

Last updated on the December 10th 2024

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A Childhood Dream