Keen eyes focused on the minute details. The fringed red lines in the background weren't just there for decoration. No, they were tall wild lilies with their spearlike leaves and trumpet shaped blossoms. With a light yet careful hand and the finest of quill pens, she drew the lily plants into the manuscript with ink like blood-wine.
"Very nice, Sabra." The Master Archivist said as he inspected her work. "Why do you persist in copying the illuminations as well as the text?" He asked in a manner that suggested curiosity rather than chastisement. "It would certainly be much faster to copy the words onto a fresh page and skip the pictures entirely."
Sabra looked up at him, her honey-brown eyes alight with her successful completion of this project. "Why bother to copy the old books at all then?" She countered. "Part of the value of these books is the tiny and time-consuming artwork, and if we can do nothing but watch the originals disintegrate, then it is not worth my time and energy to duplicate it as well as what was written down beside it?"
The Archivist chuckled. "My sentiments exactly. It's not often that we have young scribes with the dedication, eye for detail, and ability to duplicate these." He rested his hand lightly on the small stack of books on a shelf above her workstation. Every page in those fragile tomes had drawings on them - be it as simple as a small decorated letter at the beginning of a chapter, or as complex as a scene spread across two pages that depicted some important historical event. Precious work, that, and not to be disregarded. "Now you take the rest of the afternoon off." The Master said. "Clean your pens and brushes and get out into the sunlight. No excuses, Sabra."
The girl argued. No need to argue that point.

It was a gorgeous early spring day; the sun was shining and the breeze was comfortably warm. Every bit of plant life was a rich and healthy green. Sabra turned herself in circles in the grassy field until she fell over dizzy. The sky spun and the grass smelled green and fresh. I wish I could paint this day into the chronicles. She mused, looking up at the fluffy white clouds. Overhead, two blue dragons appeared and began to circle in to land. Dragons! Sebra scrambled to her feet and ran back towards the hold. Even before she got to the landing field, she could see all the youths boiling out of the hold and the attached halls and moving towards the dragons. Searchriders - from Ryslen - and everyone was excited. What was the big deal?
"Sabra!" her friend Amya called, breaking from the pack to meet her. "Two of the newest Flurry dragons have a clutch at Cy Dragonstake. It's going to hatch in the next few hours and they're short on candidates."
"Why is every weyr 'short' on candidates on hatching day?" Sabra asked, even as they ran together towards the assembling line of hopefuls.
"It's not so much that Cy's lacking candidates - it's more that it's important to make sure that the hatchlings have ample choices." A dragonrider said as they passed him to join the line. Sabra looked back at him. D'run smirked at her.
"Wouldn't having an overabundance of candidates make things worse?"
D'run kept smiling. "You'd prefer to see Quality candidates over Quantity?" He inquired.
"I suppose so... Yes. I would." Sabra said, and D'run waved at the other searcher - R'lan. The two dragons looked directly at her for a moment, and then went back to their inspection of the line.
"Your name is Sabra, right?"
She nodded.
"Go tell the Archivist that you're going on a short trip to Cy. You'll either be back in a day or three, or you can send him a perfectly calligraphed note with your dragon's name in it."
Sabra gaped at him. She was sixteen, and was already well on her way as a scribe... and now this?
Amya gave her a shove. "Go, you silly wherry!" Amya beamed at her; pride and friendship gleaming in her bright eyes.
D'run winked at Amya as Sabra literally ran off. The Archivist would have a fit, perhaps, but everyone - well, almost everyone - knew how important the dragons and their riders were to this world. And Sabra would easily be able to ply her scribal skills at any dragonry... and Q'wil and Sian could always use extra hands...

Unbeknownst to Sabra, seven other youths were plucked from the lineup that day. Four males and three females, including her friend Amya, though only the young scribe would be going to Cy.

Searchrider's Notes: Sabra - Female, 16.
This young scribe exemplifies 'all work and no play' - her Master says she literally has to be ordered to take time away from her duties. She somehow is lacking the frivolous childish streak exhibited by so many young women... Neither Okserth nor I believe this is caused by a problem she has, but we think it's an attitude she has permanently adopted: 'I can, so I will.' This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but do remember to encourage her nonexistent playful side whenever possible. -- D'run

It didn't take long... and Sabra found herself permanently bonded to and quite infatuated with her glitzy gold-and-white dragoness Jenitora.

Sunshine-White Glitz Jenitora
Gender: Female
Size: Small (green-sized)
Mother: Amber-striped White Glitz Flurry Dragon Nydalijuva
Father: Rainbow Duowing Silver Flurry Dragon Ventaocith
Clutch Siblings: Gokyn, Chechith, Yojhonza, Torva, Tyraphim, Fenluriye

Cy Dragonstake

© TyGryph / Ryslen

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