Passing The Test

Writers: Devin, Estelle
Date Posted: 26th September 2026

Characters: R'lor, Seorla
Description: Seorla meets the Weyrlingmaster shortly after her Search
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 3, day 11 of Turn 13

R'lor

"Seorla, please have a seat." R'lor gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "This is just an informal meeting so we can get to know each other a little."

The girl hovered in the doorway, her mind racing with all the possible reasons why she might have been summoned. The other candidates had told her it was expected, but she couldn't help but wonder what the Weyrlingmaster could want with her, or recall the last time she'd sat in front of a desk like this one. Had they changed their minds about healing her mother? Worse, had they found out about her family? She should have known it was too good to be true.

Or maybe he wanted to make sure she was suitable to be a Candidate? That would make sense; they wouldn't want just anyone going near their hatchlings. If so, and she wanted her mother to stay in the infirmary, then she had to pass this test. She'd have to be very, very careful.

**All right. First step, be polite. Don't forget his rank.** The dragonriders she'd met had seemed friendly, but she hadn't been here long before working out that the hierarchy of ranks was every bit as important here as in the hold, and ten times more complicated. Back there she'd only really needed to know the headwoman, but her fellow Candidates could distinguish a wingsecond from a wingthird with ease. "Yes, Weyrlingmaster." Cautiously, she perched on the edge of the chair.

He took note of her nervousness. "Why did you choose to Stand? Did Calaroth bully you into it?" he teased.

"Oh, no. Not bully," Seorla replied hastily. What should she say? Her instincts told her that the truth, that she'd done it to get her mother a healer's care, would not be acceptable, but it didn't feel right to lie and say she'd done it out of duty to the holds who'd turned them both out like they were worth nothing at all. "I thought he was beautiful. Calaroth. It felt good being near him, and when I saw the way his rider looked at him, like he was the most wonderful friend in the world..." Her voice trailed off. Shells, maybe she should have said she longed to fight Thread? "They stopped to help us. I thought I wouldn't mind that. To fly, and help people who need it."

R'lor nodded, smiling slightly. "There's nothing else like the bond between dragon and rider. But if you do Impress, you'll have to face Thread. Do you think you're ready for that?" Not that anyone truly knew until they were flying Fall for the first time, but it was good to be as mentally prepared as possible.

"I don't know as much as the others about how to fight it, yet, but I can learn. I'm a hard worker," she added, remembering how her mother had spoken when persuading skeptical holders to give them a place to stay. "And I don't get nervous. Not easily." Should she say more? Some of the other candidates talked about Thread a lot, about wing formations and weather and how they were going to burn more than anyone else, as though they couldn't wait to get started. For Turns now, she'd focused on making sure her family had shelter from Fall, and she couldn't imagine deliberately going out into it. "I don't know what it's like, exactly... Is it rude to ask a dragonrider? What Thread is like?"

"It's not rude." R'lor's gaze grew slightly distant. "Thread is like bright silver strands, falling all around you. It can be individual strands or clumps and tangles. It eats everything organic it touches, but it feels like burning, like someone pressed hot metal to your skin. If you don't go /between/ fast enough, it keeps eating until . . . until there's nothing left."

Seorla remembered the young greenrider I'lek, and his missing arm. Had Thread _eaten_ it? The thought sat, sickening, like a cold weight within her. "But...you can go /between/, right? Your dragon can, I mean."

"Yes, and you'll be well-trained on what to do if you're Scored," R'lor said. "I'm not trying to scare you off of Standing, but I want you to understand the dangers you'll be facing if a dragon does choose you."

"Yes, Weyrlingmaster." She was still thinking of the greenrider's arm, and had to make an effort to stop. It wasn't likely she'd Impress first time, lots of the others had been standing for Turns. "I understand, but I'd still like to try."

"Good." R'lor nodded. "We'll go over more of the details in class -- the risks and responsibilities of being a dragonrider. But feel free to ask me any questions you have about that, or about weyrlife in general."

"Thank you, um, sir." Seorla had plenty of questions - how long her mother could stay in the infirmary before they'd start expecting her to work, whether they'd look into her family background, if it was true they had other Holdless candidates - but those were too risky. Instead she asked the first question that came into her head. "Is it really true that one of our duties is to help wash dragons?" She couldn't disguise the eagerness in her voice. "The Searchrider, T'lin, said we could."

"Absolutely." R'lor smiled. While it was important to emphasize the dangers of being a dragonrider, especially for someone who wasn't weyrborn, he was relieved to move on to a happier topic. "It will be included as part of your chore rotation, and you can always help out in your free time as well. Dragons are huge, and most riders appreciate some help washing them. It's also important for you to spend time around dragons, and to learn how to wash your own, if you're lucky enough to Impress."

"I'd like to do that, sir. Some of the others have been around dragons their whole life, and I don't want to mess up." She thought for a moment. "How do you know if someone wants help, though? Do you just...go up and ask? Even if it's a bronzerider?"

"Even if it's a bronzerider," R'lor said with a chuckle. "Even if it's the Weyrwoman. You need to respect their ranks, but you don't need to be intimidated. Just be polite and listen to any instructions they give."

"Yes, sir." Even so, she didn't plan on approaching any bronze or goldriders if she could avoid it. She thought it was only a rumor that a golden queen could tell if you were lying, but it wasn't worth finding out. "And is it true that all the Candidates are equal? Like, girls and boys do the same work? Or someone from a cothold is the same as a Lord Holder's relative."

"Yes. Once you become a Candidate, you're all the same rank, and boys and girls treated equally," he said. "You can even take up a Craft if you like."

"That's...very different." Seorla couldn't imagine what they'd make of that in the holds she'd lived in. Wouldn't the boys complain about scrubbing floors and doing the laundry? "I saw there were girls working in the infirmary, apprentices... But really, any craft? Even smiths and beastcrafters?"

The Weyrlingmaster nodded. "Any craft. I encourage you to explore any craft you might have interest in."

"I've never thought about it before." Training in a craft had been out of reach, even if she had been a boy. All she really knew was kitchen chores and her Teaching Ballads. Of course, apprentice knots wouldn't be of much use once they left the Weyr, but maybe there'd be some useful skill she could learn, sewing or baking or... She thought of the girls in the infirmary again. Perhaps she could learn to help her mother, in case they couldn't cure her for good.

"Well, now's the time." Many girls, and some boys, came to the Weyr having never considered a craft. "Or if not a craft, there's plenty of opportunity to find work you like. The Headwoman will try to accommodate any preferences you have, though of course the Weyr's needs come first." Someone had to clean the latrines, or do laundry, or scrub pots.

"Yes, sir, of course. I can turn my hand to anything, really." She imagined, once again, talking someone into letting them stay, so they wouldn't have to resort to the caves. Trying not to sound too desperate. It still sounded strange that someone would consider what kind of work she liked, though there were chores she'd preferred to others. Making beds and folding clothes, the clean fresh smell of laundered sheets. Peeling vegetables amid the gossip and bustle of the kitchens. There was even something satisfying about the shine of a newly scrubbed floor. "Thank you."

The girl seemed serious and thoughtful, and he had the sense that she would be hard working. A little nervous, but that was understandable. "Welcome to Dolphin Cove, Seorla. It was a pleasure meeting you."

Last updated on the October 27th 2026

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Passing The Test