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Arinza
A few weeks later they were both assigned laundry duty and Arinza had a smile on her face as she walked into the laundry, Fril, her green-white fire lizard flying in behind her. Kirfon was already there and tossed a dirty shirt at her when he saw her. She caught it and scowled at him, but her scowl soon melted back into a smile and she tossed it back at him. Fril caught the shirt in mid air and flew over to drop it on Kirfon’s head. Arinza laughed and told the playful flit to find a perch. Fril settled herself on a ledge up above occasionally adding a chirp to their conversation.
“Hey, Ari,” Kirfon said, catching the shirt and putting it in the appropriate pile, “how’s it going?” “Good,” Arinza replied with a smile. “How are you today?” “Wonderful now that you’re here,” he said, beaming up at her with mock sincerity. She laughed and put her hand on his face, pushing gently. He gasped and toppled over into the pile of laundry and she burst out laughing. “Hey! That’s not funny! I could have been seriously hurt!” He picked himself up and she gave him a withering look. “Then why’d you do it?” “Why’d I? Well, I never!” he exclaimed, eyes wide in pretend shock. “You pushed me!” “Oh, I didn’t push you hard enough,” she replied, bending to pick up an already sorted pile of clothing. “Now come on, we’ve got work to do.” They got to work, chatting all the while. They talked of all sorts of things, each asking the other questions off the top of their heads. Arinza enjoyed actually having someone she could call a friend and found herself asking questions she’d never even asked of herself. “You’re not the oldest son in your family, are you?” asked Arinza, pretty sure she knew the answer. “Nope,” Kirfon replied and she nodded. “So, what do you expect to do? I mean, you’re nineteen, you’re more than old enough to chose a Craft.” “Yeah, I know,” he replied with a shrug. “Well, then what are you going to do with your life?” she prodded as she tried to scrub a particularly stubborn stain out of one of her father’s shirts. “Promise you won’t tell?” he asked and she nodded when he turned to look at her. “Well, I’ve always dreamed of being a dragonrider. But unfortunately I’ve never been Searched.” Arinza smiled at him, “Maybe you will be someday.” “Nope,” Kirfon shook his head sadly. “I’ve been passed over a dozen times.” Arinza’s face fell, and she watched him as he dumped a load of clothes into the wash tub and threw some soap in. She was almost sorry she’d asked seeing that sad look on his face. But before long he looked up at her and grinned and she found herself smiling back. “How about you?” he asked, trusting his hands into the now soapy water and starting to scrub the clothes. Arinza’s eyes widened and she just stared for a few minutes then shook her head. “I really don’t know. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. There’s really no Craft out there I’d like to learn and what else am I supposed to do?” Kirfon looked sideways at her. “You could always marry some Lord Holder’s son.” “Oh that’s exactly what I need,” she replied without thinking then shut her mouth with a click before she said anymore. Kirfon just nodded and kept scrubbing. Arinza didn’t know what to say and for the first time since they’d met an awkward silence settled between them. Fril chirped from the ledge, fluttering her wings distressed by the tension in the room. They finished their chores quickly and said goodbye, Kirfon obviously wanting to get away and Arinza not sure what to say. Fril swooped down and landed on Arinza’s shoulder as Kirfon stalked off and Arinza frowned as she scratched the flit’s head soothingly. A few days later... |