Possibilities (Search)

[shouriko]

He might be alone, but he did not have his time to himself. No, he had chores to finish and with his elder full sister gone for apprenticeship to the weavers that meant more work for him. Fakir was not one to complain for he actually enjoyed work. He enjoyed it because it was one way in which he was able to be by himself, though that depended on what his chores were. Today it was all about disposing of the ash and charcoal from his father's workshop. This was both the occupation of a good, loyal son and a potential Apprentice Smith.

Fakir admitted to himself that he was unsure if this was exactly what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He had brothers who were farmers and worked together. They would easily welcome him and help him. That was partly his concern. Fakir wanted in some way to get away from his family. Having been surrounded by them all his life he just wanted to get away. In the end his responsibilities held him there. It was not much of a surprise to him really, besides, he had plenty of time to change his mind if he wanted to. He had only turned 14 a few sevendays ago, but being an Apprentice Smith would please his father and keep him close for his mother.

"Ahiru, stop that." Fakir muttered as he wheeled the blackened and ash-filled barrow towards the pit for pouring such things away. The pale green firelizard had been sitting there and was now rolling in it, raising a cloud of soot and dirtying herself. He thought of meat and said, "No supper otherwise."

Promptly the green flitter ceased and sprung up into the air. She whirled around and then appeared to free-fall before spiraling and leveling out. In the end she chirped her adoration to Fakir and landed on his shoulder. It was her way of trying to apologize to the being who took such good care of her and fed her well.

[stolenhart]

I am glad we came here today, Knymawth told his rider as he banked in the air. }Oh? And why is that?{, T'ran asked, indicating they land near the smithies. T'ran had come to Garon to retrieve an order of riding strap buckles the Weyr had made a few sevendays ago. Hallek, and his father, had wanted each hold to feel special, so no hold would make the same crafts that another Hold made. Sure the basics were universal but Lidal's Smiths didn't make good buckles for the straps simply because they were doing other things at the moment. This place as the best meat, the bronze flashed his rider a little fang as he backwinged to land. }How do you remember that?{, like most dragons the bronze had a limited memory, the fact he could pinpoint this hold for it's meat amazed T'ran. You remember it, was the reply as T'ran slid to his feet. }I will see what I can do then{, the rider replied. The dragon gave an approving rumble as T'ran headed for a the smithie.

He knocked on the door frame, "Hello is anyone here?". He had been told this particular smith was the one to go to, the one who had taken the order for over six hundred buckles. If no one is here, can we go?, the bronze asked, glancing around. He was a few dragon lengths away from the building but he was watching his rider with an avid curiosity. }We will see. We need the buckles though, just like we need the leathers from Taskin{. T'ran did have to take this particular chore, in fact he could have just passed it on to someone else. But he needed to get away from the Weyr, his brother was there now that Gimna was ill.

[shouriko]

"Oi! Da, there's a man 'ere for you!" The opened and a young man with extremely short blonde hair answered the door. "Come in, Smith'll be right wit' you." The young man then ran back to the forge and returned to his work.

"Aye, rider, you came for the buckles, nay?" He was a large man, his hair was black with gray hairs beginning to appear. His wide shoulders filled the doorway and he waved T'ran in with a warm, hearty smile.

Meanwhile, Fakir was returning from the pit with the barrow. He was glad to find that Ahiru hadn't gone for the ash, but remained on his shoulder, perhaps his thought of food had stuck with her. He followed the path and then slowed.

"A dragon?" Fakir murmured to himself.

His grey eyes took in the bronze dragon, his size, his scars, the way he moved... He was a strong dragon, he could tell. Fakir went to the back entrance of the shop and left the barrow by the door. He stepped inside was wrapped in the great heat of the place. It was cooler because they hadn't started much work, but his elder brother and already Apprentice Smith, Kenrir, was getting the forge going after he had cleaned out yesterday's source. Fakir stepped around it, the fuel, and his already sweating brother to find his father and the dragonrider who surely was here.

"Ah! Fakir! Go fetch the buckles you shined yesterday." His father called to him, he hardly had a chance to see the man who stood there with him.

He just nodded and turned back to go the table where the sack contained each buckle. Fakir himself had finished them. He checked for strength, impurities, and then shined and oiled them before wrapping each and putting them in the bag. Fakir took the bag and tied the end securely and then returned to his father and the dragonrider. The first thing he noticed was the scarring, the hard look of the man, and his strength was just as evident as the dragon's had been. He knew he was staring, he knew it was rude, but he decided he liked the rider. He made him think of his father.

"Da, here." Fakir held the bag out and averted his gaze from the rider.

[stolenhart]

T'ran nodded to the young boy and stepped inside of the smithy. The arid hotness of the place made him break instantly into a sweat but he gave no sign it bothered him. Afterall Southern Weyr was hotter yet, and even more humid. On a really humid day you could almost swim in the air, on those days it was all but impossible to keep the dragons out of the air. Flying was much easier for them when the air was thicker. "Afternoon sir, and yes", T'ran greeted the smith, glancing around the building. In Lidal the smithies were full of swords, sword metal, armor and shields. He much preferred Garon's smithies over Lidal's, there was something reassuring about wagon parts or decorative iron work or a runner shoe.

There is a young man who is interested in me, Knymawth's voice was full of good humor as he sent an image of the young man who had just passed him. }Oh really? Maybe he'd come help me{, T'ran replied, in as good a nature as the dragon. T'ran liked young adults, not so much girls they were always scheming and pretending to be women, but boys? Eager to learn what they could, full of curiousity and wonder, he appreciated that. He'd never had that. When he'd been twelve a boy he'd been pushed into his father's armies and there was nothing to be done except go with Lord Lidal's plans. The Lord had killed men for even speaking and he had plenty of bastard sons to go around afterall.

T'ran's lip twisted upward as he made a small smile. "Would it be alright, smith? If your son carried that out to my dragon, while we discussed another order for the Weyr?", he asked the Master Smith. "You can't miss him, he's the only one out there at the moment. Just leave the sack by his feet and I'll be out to get it in a moment", he told Fakir.

[shouriko]

Fakir's grey eyes turned to the rider as he spoke and he pondered why he should do something like that. It would not take long for him to take the bag out and return though... it would allow him a much closer look at the dragon. He brought the sack back closer to him and he looked back up at the strong Smith whom was his father. His father would tell him to, of that he was certain.

"Aye, go on Fakir, take that there to the dragon." Fenrir smiled at his son, suspecting that his son was deeply interested in the dragon and would not ask about it openly. "Come, what will you have from me?"

Fakir gave quiet nod to his father and glanced at the rider again. There was something not right about one finger. It looked shorter. He could not tell, but perhaps later he could look at it again. For now he continued through the front door and indeed the dragon was there as he knew it would be. He reached his free hand up to his face and brushed some of the black hair from his forehead that was slowly gathering sweat from having been inside. The bronze was large, as a bronze ought to be and he walked towards it steadily. The scars varied in size and frequency, but he felt that the scars were more of a source of pride than signs of weakness and memories of pain and failure. Fakir stood near the dragon, not twenty steps from him and stared up at the dragon.

"What makes a smith, a smith? What makes a dragonrider, a dragonrider? What makes any man different from another?" Fakir wondered quietly to himself in a voice barely a whisper. Ahiru gazed upward as well, but clung close to her master.

[stolenhart]

"Thank you", T'ran called after the boy. "The Weyr is in need a few pulleys for the outside lift. Also we'll probably need another order of buckles soon once the eggs Hatch as well. And the Healers say they need a metal cabinet to store some of their light sensitive materials in as well", T'ran explained to the smith. "As far as the cabinet goes, just make the pieces, I'll let one of the Apprentices assemble it when it gets back to the Weyr", he explained, reaching into a pouch to pull out a few marks. "The payment for this order and an advance on the next order as well", the Weyrleader added setting them on the counter.

Knymawth knew when he had an appreciative audience so he preened and arched his neck showing muscles and scars off to good advantage. He hummed a welcome to the green flitt as his tail danced lightly across the well-beaten ground. If I may ask mine, Knymawth said carefully, I think you should come speak to the lad about coming back with us. }Oh really?{, T'ran asked, }I'll be along in a moment{. "If there is nothing you request of me, good smith, I'll be going. I'll send the lad along as well".

[shouriko]

"Mm buckles an' pulleys. Aye." Fenrir had gone over to a wooden tablet and scratched a few notches on it. He had his own simple way of keeping track of orders. Symbols and notches on wood was easy and reusable for fuel. Fenrir recalled making a box before and having to give notes on it's construction. He added a warning, "And a box, aye, but mind they do na' forge' 'bout the door." He took the marks and slid them into a pocket somewhere beneath his heavy smock, "Righ', and I'll be sending the lizard when done."

Outside Fakir looked back at the bronze dragon.

Ahiru got excited when she was greeted by the bronze. Her grip on Fakir lessened and she chirped back at the big dragon. She would have taken off except that Fakir had a hand over the leather strap on her left foreleg keeping her there. He knew that she would quickly become a nuisance if he let her go. She'd completely forget her manners and likely annoy the dragon. Ahiru would get hurt in some manner of accident and he was not going to see it happen.

"Easy, Ahiru." Fakir told her in a soothing voice that had not yet reached it's deepened maturity.

When the door opened behind him he turned slightly to see the rider leave. Fakir let got of the leather strap and Ahiru stayed put, thought she was fidgety. He hoisted the bag back up into his arms and waited for the rider. Quickly he looked to the finger and saw that it was scared and indeed shorter than normal. An injury likely from some battle or from an accident as a child. His oldest brother had an enormous scar on his shin from having played roughly in the shop. Fakir's eyes darted to the shoulder where the knots were. He didn't know everything about them, but they were a show of standing in the Weyr. This rider had many, so he must be some kind of leader.

A leader you still did chores. Fakir admired that the rider did not think himself above fetching buckles from a smith. Yet he did not smile, only his grey eyes glittered as he looked to the dragon again. Surely his help was not needed greatly from them.

"Your buckles, rider." Fakir said.

[stolenhart]

"Thank you and have a good day", T'ran said in farewell as he ducked out of the shop and headed for his bronze. }So you think the lad has potential? Just like that girl from the other day? And when did you turn into a green Search dragon?{, he teased. He does. And she did too. And I didn't, but just think, if I can sense their potential what that means?, the bronze pointed out in a startling display of insight. }You stole that thought from me, and it means absolutely nothing. Neither one could Impress at all{, T'ran pointed out. It was a good thought though, Knymawth replied, And doesn't change anything. }True{.

"Awww thank you lad", instead of taking the buckles, T'ran put his hand on Fakir's shoulder and gently lead him towards the bronze. "What is your name lad?", he said as they walked towards the bronze. Knymawth lowered himself so he was laying on the ground, head cocked so he could follow his rider and the young man. "His name is Knymawth, he was curious to meet you", T'ran explained as he finally took the bag of buckles from the boy.

[shouriko]

Fakir could not hide the surprise. He looked at the hand of the rider as he turned him back towards the dragon. His grey eyes shot back up to the rider's face and the sudden smile and gentleness that was there. His eyes then went quickly to the dragon. What was going on? He held onto the sac with the buckles and let himself get led towards the bronze who lowered himself and was making himself reasonably comfortable.

He hadn't answered the rider yet and he swallowed before answering and speaking clearly, "Fakir."

The dragon, the bronze, no, Knymawth was curious about him? He wanted to meet him? Was this about his staring? Had he insulted the dragon and his rider by doing so? If so, his apology would be terrible as usual. He would be unable to explain and his father would lose good work because of him. Instead of showing his worry, he focused on something else. Fakir decided to ask a question that was a bit obvious but helped him to think of other things.

"Why?" Fakir asked. In earnest he did not know what the dragon found curious about him. He was the black sheep of the family, he was quiet, and he didn't understand himself, or the feelings of others. What was it that made the dragon curious about him. The buckles were freed from his hand and he looked at the rider.

[stolenhart]

T'ran shrugged, "Who knows what dragons think? They have minds of their own and wits to match", he replied, setting the sack by the bronze's foot. "well Knymawth, not that he is close enough, what do you think?", the rider asked his dragon. Knymawth reached out to Fakir, blowing his hair all over the place as he breathed in and out before returning to look at his own rider. Bring him, he will do fine. He has the little one there, and she is partially trained, the bronze finally spoke to his rider, his eye on Fakir and his green flitt.

"Well then", T'ran turned back to the boy, two Searches in a sevenday, he was going to get a new title, Searchrider. "Fakir, would you do Southern Weyr, and Weyrwoman Gimna of Vandyith, the extreme honor of Standing as a Candidate for the clutch hardening on the Sands?", he asked the young man, voice suddenly gone formal. Knymawth cocked his head to the side, awaiting the young boy's answer.

[shouriko]

Indeed. Who knew what dragons thought. Firelizards didn't think much, but dragons did. You could guess at a firelizard but be at a total loss when it came to a dragon. Fakir could accept the answer the rider gave him. Even a dragonrider who was bonded to a dragon did not know what a dragon thought completely. The next words he heard were not addressed to him but the dragon, Knymawth. Fakir watched the dragon come close to him, the head was so big! And when he breathed and rustled his hair, he closed his eyes. It was a warm, gentle breath.

He opened his eyes and looked back at the rider. His eyes widened as the rider addressed him and began to ask him a question. Fakir had heard of such things, but he hadn't thought of this as an option. There were not many who ever got the opportunity let alone actually become one. He knew that if he wanted to leave and make his own way, this was his chance. His father had Kenrir as his Apprentice Smith and still the youngest, Renkir. His mother would miss him, but she had seen children grow and make families.

Fakir looked back to the shop and in the doorway stood Fenrir, "Aye, you should go, Fakir." The smith had a canvas sack and brought it over, "You'd not make as good a Smith as a rider if a bronze likes you, nay?" The man smiled and hugged his son.

"Da." Fakir was surprised and he accepted the hug and his bag.

"You've found your place." Fenrir tousled his son's hair and looked to the rider, "Take care o' my boy." And he turned back and waved a bit as he walked back to the shop.

"Da, thank you." Fakir held his bag and looked at Ahiru who had climbed over it smelling the dried meat that had been put in there. "Right, I'll go." He said as he looked up at the rider. Did he understand what it meant to him or what he was doing for him? Did he understand what went on between father and son? Fakir didn't know, but he was taking this chance with his father's blessing. The only one who knew his feelings and thoughts and desires was giving him a push in the right direction.

[stolenhart]

T'ran watched teh exchange between father and son, marveling at the warmth the two shared. His own fathe rhad never cared for T'ran's future, only what he could do in the present. It had made things liveable but very tense. His father had never made any pretense that T'ran was a tool to be used or thrown away at will, there were other tools if T'ran should break. The man is dead, dust and bones, the bronze reassured her his rider, nudging him gently. "I know", T'ran said, wishing the sun would chase away his inner demons.

"You'll go?", he said, demons held at bay by the young boy's re-appearance. "Alright", he reached for Fakir's bag, strapping it to Knymawth beside the bag that held the buckles he'd come for. "Use his leg to get up, settle yourself into the straps between his ridges and I'll come make sure you are secure", he advised. T'ran would have to sit behind the boy, he'd not been prepared to pick up a candidate today and as such did not have extra straps handy. Still he'd ridden Knymawth without straps before and would doubtless do so again.

"First time on a dragon?"

[shouriko]

Fakir thought he saw the dim light of sadness in the eyes of the bronzerider. He might have been mistaken, though, he was quite certain that something was there. He was relieved of his bag and saw how it sat next to one identical on the outside, but with different contents. Fakir didn't know just what his father had put in it, but he could tell by the weight alone that there was more than just his own belongings. His father must have given him something as a gift, perhaps for luck. He took care to listen to the instructions given him by T'ran and followed them as best he could. He was not very large height-wise and had some difficulty at first but he used all his strength and his body for leverage in order to scramble up atop Knymawth. Ahiru took to the air as soon as he had begun and now that he was seated there, she returned to him.

Fakir gave Ahiru a smile in acknowledgement and then turned to look back at T'ran. "Aye." He had seen many dragons and their riders, he had touched their hides and learned their names, but this was indeed his first time sitting astride one way up high off the ground.

He didn't quite know what was going to happen. If he did indeed have what it took to be a dragonrider. It made him think of his earlier question that he had asked. What made a smith a smith? What made a dragonrider a dragonrider? What made any man different from another? Fakir had considered this question many times and though he had his ideas, he had no answers. His father seemed to think that he was better off a dragonrider than a smith and surely he would know, for he was a smith. Fakir knew that the only person who knew him at all was his father and he didn't know how that had happened.

Fakir knew that he would learn a great deal, including about himself.

[stolenhart]

"Aw well it'll be fun", T'ran assured him, tightening the straps here and then, "unless I fall off, in which case we'll be dead", he winked at Fakir as he finished buckling a strap. T'ran wasn't planning on falling off any time soon, he had too much to do as it was without dying. The Weyr would be swarmed over without a leader to hold it to it's proper course, Hallek would take over without a backward glance. "Come on Knymawth, dinner is waiting", T'ran tapped the dragon's shoulder, settling himself in behind a set of ridges.

The bronze abligingly rose up, stretching a bit as he did so. With his wings spread and tail out he took up a great deal of room. I may eat when we return?, the dragon asked, leaning back for his take off. }Yes{, T'ran replied seconds before Knymawth launched into the air. There was no need for talk as the bronze spiralled skyward, shadow passing quickly over the ground. Once they were high enough, T'ran checked the sun and their position and gave Knymawth the coordinates home. Into between they passed and were just as quickly out.

Knymawth roared to be back in his home circling above the headland that made up the feeding grounds of Southern Weyr. He landed, scattering a herd of wherries towards the lake. He glanced back to his rider, anticipation making him excited. "Come on Fakir, unbuckle yourself. Knymawth wants his dinner", T'ran said, pulling a strap loose so the boy could free himself. Yes, I am awfully hungry, the bronze encouraged, speaking to the young boy for once. It was rare for Knymawth to speak to anyone at all, he was a solitary dragon.

[shouriko]

It was a strange mix of feelings. Exhilarating, frightening, wonderful, new. Fakir found the excitement of flight the best of all and the fear of the cold, unending dark of between to be the worst. He was glad to feel the warm air and see the sun in the blue sky. Below him now was Southern Weyr and it was not what he had expected, it was more. Ahiru, finally free and in Southern left from Fakir's lap and took to the air. So many more new firelizards were there to meet and places to explore.

The landing was nearly identical to the take-off. Somehow it was gentle and accomplished with some degree of ease. Fakir didn't hesitate at taking the straps off, but he did stop the very moment Knymawth spoke to him. Even though he was free of the straps and had been preparing to get off, he stopped and touched his forehead, looking to the bronze. Is that what he sounded like? His voice was just like he thought it would be and he smiled a little. Fakir slid down and was on the arm and then ground quickly.

"Knymawth." Fakir said quietly as he turned to the bronze dragon and bowed his head a little, "Thank you."

[stolenhart]

The bronze returned the bow with a nod of his own while he waited for T'ran to unharness him. "Alright, go on", T'ran shouldered the harness and bag of buckles after tossing Fakir his bag, "Come on, let's go find grub for ourselves", he offered headed towards the edge where a wooden basket was waiting. "We don't have anyway to get up here apart from dragons, lifts and rope ladders. You can take the rope ladder if you want", he pointed to the top rung of a ladder, "Or help me with the lift".

T'ran stepped into the lift, booted feet thumping on the boards as he checked everything. He dropped his harness onto the floor and pulled out a pair of gloves, putting them on his hands. "I hate this thing but at least it's better than the rope", T'ran had once climbed down the rope ladder, it had been on a windy day and he'd almost slipped off. He'd never do it again. No matter how much the wind blew, the lift was just that much safer, or so he rationalized.

[shouriko]

"Lift." Fakir answered with hardly much thought. He was not one for climbing about. If T'ran favored the lift then there was surely a reason for it. He decided to side with the bronzerider for the time being. Besides, this way he could help him for he was quite good with manual labor.

Fakir hefted his bag on his shoulder and made it secure. He would have taken the bag with the buckles as well, but T'ran had gotten to them before him. Silently he followed and went into the lift. He figured that it got it's name from it's use. It would be his first time using one of them, much like his first time riding a dragon. Neither would be the last time either.

He had gloves on him because he liked them. Fakir pulled them out of a back pocket and slipped them easily on his hands. He turned his gray eyes back on T'ran and said, "I can help."

[stolenhart]

"Oh, good", T'ran replied, unknotting the rope from it's accustomed hook. "Basically we just keep the thing from flying down with us in it because it works on a counter balance. Just don't ask me how that works, the WeyrSmiths would know", he winked to Fakir. "So we go up and that big container of firestone down there comes up", they used the leftover firestone from sacks to fill up the container, usually it was small pieces that had went unnoticed but it did tend to fill up a container quickly. When it got to full usually there was a weyrling class in need of firestone.

"We will have to pull it back up though, once we get to the bottom", it had been a rule as long as anyone remembered that of the two lifts, one had to be at the bottom and one had to be at the top. Whoever broke the rule and got caught usually got some sort of unpleasant punishment. And it was hard not to get caught, when there was always a dragon or flitt around to tell. "But no harm", he passed the rope to Fakir. "Ready?", he asked, before slowly inchingthe rope through his hands. THe two males were not heavy enough to bring the container up on weight alone, but it wasn't so hard to pull it up either.

[shouriko]

He nodded, some of his black hair falling over his forehead until he brushed it aside. Very simple counter-balance system. Fakir recalled his father mentioning it, because when he had been an Apprentice Smith he had gone to the Weyr. He remembered the story and now he too was at the Weyr, though for a different reason entirely. He took the rope in his gloved hands and waited for T'ran to give the ready.

The weight felt good in his hands. He liked the feel of it and the working of his developing muscles. Fakir was not weak, but he had yet to truly work and be as bulky as his father or as T'ran appeared to be. He was sure that either smith or dragonrider, he would certainly have some degree of muscling. Nothing was without its pains of labor and surely dragonriding was no different. He let the rope pass slowly through his hands and gripped it harder every now and again to keep the movement even and smooth.

It did not take very long for them to reach the bottom. As they had descended he began to wonder just how they pulled the lift back up. Did they simply pull the same ropes in the opposite direction, or a different set of ropes entirely.

[stolenhart]

As it turned out, they would not have to do any hard work at all. "Weyrleader", a Healer said, catching sight of T'ran, "You must have read my mind, we were on our way up to the top to get some things". Since the dragons could have cared less about plants on their plateau the Healers had a section fenced off so they could have an herb garden near the Weyr itself. "Excellent, less work for me then", T'ran handed them the ropes as he stepped out of the lift.

"Come along Fakir, my stomach is about to eat my backbone. By the time we get food and eat it Knymawth will be finished and he'll be wanting a bath", T'ran replied setting off down a sandy path that lead to a Lower Cavern entrance. "Drop these buckles off in the storeroom and then I'm gonna find some food somewhere, even if I have to hunt it up myself. And if I am lucky twice today", he was saying, "the headwoman will pop in while we eat and I can pass you off to her", which would make his life easier because once he was through with his bronze, he needed to check on Gimna.