Daranel slipped his shoes on and silently made his way down the hall. Both his mother Hadara and his father Tahenel were still asleep. The door to his younger sister Hena's room was also closed. Even his older brother Nelar was asleep in his room across from the staircase. Nelar was usually first to rise; he always busied himself with the Hold duties in the morning. Their father was a Woodsmith, so Nelar was forever making measurements and planning projects. It was well known throughout the Hold that Nelar would inherit his father's business. Daranel never liked cutting wood much, but he did his share of the work along with his father and brother. No one in the Hold was dissatisfied with their work either, which made their business thrive. Everyone needed wood, and Tahenel was the only real Woodsmith the Hold could count on.
Daranel snuck a cold meatrool from the icebox, and went outside. Next to their home was a small stable, which housed several runnerbeasts who were excellent haulers. Daranel untied his own, a beautiful black female whom he had named Metha. He led Metha out of the stable. Once she had walked a few paces from the stable door, she stopped suddenly. Daranel tugged at her mane, muttering reassuringly, "C'mon Metha, it's okay, girl." But still, the runnerbeast refused to budge. She whinnied in a frightened tone, and turned her maned head skyward.
Daranel looked up and saw a great blue creature spiralling downwards. A dragon! What was a dragonrider doing here? Was something happening at the Weyr? Daranel stared at the blue dragon and wondered, why were dragons always one of the same five colors? Some thought that the dragons were a variety of colors, considering the many shades of their hides. To Daranel, it was a bit monotonous. Gold, bronze, brown, blue, green. Never any other color, all throughout Pernese history! Lately, though, rumors of strangely colored dragons had reached the Hold. The dragons were said to live somewhere in the Southern Continent, in a place called Ryslen. While almost no one doubted that a Weyr with that name existed, some of the Holders found the rest of the stories hard to swallow. The dragonriders of Ryslen were supposedly able to travel to other worlds! While the rest of the family dismissed the rumors, Daranel beleived every word. He would stare at the stars at night, hoping that one day he might travel the universe with a dragon never seen before by his Hold!
The blue dragon circled lower, and landed on the grassy meadow of the Hold. Metha gave a loud whinny, and bolted back into the stable. Daranel ran over to the dragon as the rider dismounted. The young man removed his helmet, smiled and said, "Hello, I am J'rin, rider of Amitath. I'm a dragonrider at Ryslen. Amitath and I are on Search, we're looking for Daranel, son of the Woodsmith, Tahenel. Do you know him?"
For a moment, Daranel didn't know what to say. Then, he told the rider, "I'm Daranel, but sir, do you really think that I could be a candidate?"
"Amitath says that you will." sid the rider. Daranel turned to the dragon, "Are you sure?" he asked. The dragon's voice boomed in his head
<Of course I'm sure! I'm never wrong, you will stand at Ryslen!>
J'rin laughed, "Well, I guess that settles it! Come on, unless you would rather stay here and carve wood?"
"No, sir! I'll be right back!" said Daranel. The bluerider laughed again.
Darenel hurried into the kitchen. The room was empty, everyone was still asleep.
Daranel glanced out the window at the dragon and his rider. Seizing a piece of paper from one of the drawers, he hastily wrote a note explainig what had just happened.
Within minutes, Daranel was aloft with J'rin and Amitath. Daranel relished the exhiliaration of flight. Someday, he thought, he would be flying with his own dragon. He hoped that someday would be soon. Before Amitath carried them Between, He thought of the note he had left his family. He hoped it was enough, but was afraid he had left them quite bereft.
