Felyar, Candidate Ryslen Weyr

and Ayceth

F'yar's Candidacy

Hatching by Baeris Kshau

A darkish slate-blue nose poked out first, and then a beautiful crest of paler blue followed. Proof positive that this was indeed the last, lost clutch of Seascape dragons. He pulled himself free of the mottled egg, and stood for a moment before looking over the candidates. There were many to choose from. He took his time. The boys, and young men, stood nervously. Under the gaze of Baeris and the whole Weyr it seemed, they wanted to run to the hatchling and call for him, try to make him look them in the eye and -

"Just make up your mind already..." moaned Felyar. He stood near the middle of the group, and had his arms crossed over his chest. "We’re only hot enough in these black robes, on the sands... Only going to just drop from the heat any minute."

You... You are very rude! But I like you. Perhaps I might ask you why you are so angry to be standing waiting for me? I came first, I, Ayceth, and I came a very long way for you F’yar.

His green eyes widened. "You are kidding, right? I mean..." He glanced from one dragon to the next, "one of you said that, didn’t you?!" He was almost frantic, until the dragon came right up to him, butting his head next to the young man’s elbow, and nudged him away from the sands.

Yes. Me. You. Come now. I am hungry.

F’yar had been most unnerved when Ayceth chose him; it was the oddest thing he had ever experienced.

AycethAyceth grew to be a just-larger-than-average sized dragon, and was very energetic, as though he was powered by fire within. He looked bizarrely vicious with his spiky crest, and powerful legs. He and F’yar made a wonderful pair. The time-lost dragon had calmed F’yar’s anger from a raging inferno to a cooler near-boiling point. He still had a vicious temper, but didn’t lash out quite so often. He was warmly welcomed back to Ryslen Weyr and after a sevenday or so, he and his slate blue dragon felt right at home.

Unbeknownst to F’yar, a battle raged on within Ryslen - about where to assign them. Ayceth was a good flamer and a better flier, and was capable of doing all manner of “blue things.” Despite this, some wanted to assign him and his clutchmate Remembreth to a specials-only wing. Those eggs HAD traveled fifteen turns through time. Who knows what those normal-looking dragons would be capable of?

F’yar had just finished oiling Ayceth and had an odd urge to talk to his friend A’ndo.

Alivirth says he is meeting with the Weyrwoman.

“Thanks Ayceth.” F’yar said, wiping his hands.

As F’yar neared the Weyrwoman’s office, he could hear the debate. A’ndo was talking.

“I don’t care when or where that dragon came from. A dragon is a dragon. F’yar is…”

“F’yar is what?” F’yar demanded, teeth clenched, seething in rage. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Everyone looked at A’ndo.

“F’yar is - and always has been, despite his ever-present anger - my friend, and I want him and his blue - no matter what oddness Ayceth has hidden away - to fly in my wing.” A’ndo stated, not bothered in the least by F’yar’s presence.

“I bet you wouldn’t have said that if F’yar wasn’t here.” Im’mel growled.

“I swear it on my dragon’s egg, Wingleader Im’mel, that I meant what I said. A dragon is a dragon, and the Misty Mountain Wing wants Ayceth and F’yar.” A’ndo responded, staying cool.

“I accept.” F’yar said calmly.

“Wait a sharding second!” another wingleader began, but J’kosh interrupted.

“The time for waiting is over. A’ndo is right; A dragon, no matter his or her appearance, is a dragon.” He turns to A’ndo. “Wingleader - good luck with your new Rider. As for the rest of you, anyone who wishes to accept a special dragon pair into their wing has the full right to do so. Assignment to a specials-only wing should be voluntary, not punishment.”

F’yar grinned at A’ndo. “You really wanted us in your wing?”

A’ndo nodded. “Of course. We’re a team, and the Misty Mountain Wing can only get stronger because of it. Besides, we’ve already got one oddball dragon, why not two?”

“Ayceth is no oddball!” F’yar growled.

"Neither is Releith." L'ken said, rounding the corner. "A dragon is a dragon is a dragon."

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