His parents, Journeywoman Harper Ryna and Vintner (master) Bantan, have always agreed that their oldest son is a bit... plain. With a soft face, a mushy but pleasant smile, and typical ruddy curled hair, he usually makes an "average" first impression on people.
With three younger sisters, and one younger brother, Baryn has always tried to set a good example. He works hard, yet likes to play every once in a while. He is of average height and build, though he appears to be stronger than he looks. He sets his mind to things and even though he knows he is not the most remarkably intelligent person, he figures out problems if he keeps at it.
His sisters usually wound up dressing him up when they were still young enough. Always wanting to play the accepting-type, poor Baryn learned a lot more about how to put his hair into braids than how to braid leather bindings or other such 'manly' pursuits.
However, he knew what he wanted to do, all along. He wished very much to follow in his father's footsteps and become a vintner. His escapes from his sisters would usually place him directly into the fields of grapes, surrounding the Hold's small patch of cherry trees.
Of course, cherry trees. That's where he learned to climb, how to pick fruit, and how to weave beautiful flower-chains with the fallen blossoms. Ablan had nothing but cherry trees as far as the eye could see, most times. Between them and the hills with their rows of grapes, Baryn could hardly get anything other than thoughts of wine making into his head.
"Yes, I am." He said, listless. Betel sat herself down on the work bench, and ground her jaw around.
"Well you shouldn't. I mean, everyone in Ablan knows you're going to do great work."
"That's just it, sis, EVERYONE in Ablan will BE there. Competing. They've all got so much more work behind their wines that I don't stand a chance."
His sister rolled her own coppery colored eyes. "Will you listen to yourself? Och, you just don't get it, do you brother?" Baryn glanced up at her, getting irked.
"Get what?"
"You're GOING, and you might win and you might not win, but ... Not 'everyone' is going to this festival you know. We've got to stay and tend the field. Those insane Southerners have their parties at the strangest times of year."
"It's harvest time there. Besides..." he stood up, finally understanding what his sister was meaning. "Our wines have had some time to age. Theirs will be fresh from the press, and that won't make for great tasting."
Betel nodded to herself as her brother strode from the room, "you go get em."
***
"Are you sure that these crates will be okay during the flight?" Baryn asked, for the third time. And for the third time, T'nor of blue Razelth sighed and told the lad it would.
"It's going between for only a few moments, and that will chill it perfectly. I've had wine brought between. It's almost better than chilled in an ice cavern."
T'nor was an experienced traveler and now a rider. That combination allowed he and his Istabitha-Impressed dragon to navigate through lands with ease. T'nor had been to Ablan via ship and caravan, before, and now had an appreciation for dragon-flight. It was so much quicker! He packed down the two crates of wine skins that the young Journeyman Vintner had brewed, along with some other things that the visitor from Ablan would be wanting to take with him to TwoRiver Hold's Berried Alive festival.
He then told Baryn how to snug down the straps for flight, since T'nor was a traveling rider, he often conveyed more than just wares with him, so he had a special harness created for two to share.
"We won't be too heavy for your dragon?" Baryn asked, glancing at the relaxed dark blue dragon's back.
"Not at all lad, not at all. Now, hang on!" T'nor mentally urged Razelth to take to the air, and they soared over the low depression among rolling hills that made up Ablan Hold.
"It's beautiful here! I never saw it from up here before!" Baryn exclaimed. "I can't believe this... Oh, there's my sister! And Rynan! HEYO!!!" He yelled, waving. T'nor chuckled to himself that the boy certainly didn't seem afraid of heights, and was comfortable enough on the dragon's back that he let go of the harness handle -- installed purely for those who *were* afraid to clutch onto. They soared overhead for another few moments, allowing Baryn to see much of his home Hold from overhead, before they went between.
"Will it hurt?" Asked Baryn.
"Will what hurt?"
"Going between?"
Laughing, T'nor shook his head, "no, boy, it doesn't hurt. It only hurts if you're in Threadfall, and there's no chance of that this sevenday!"
Relieved, Baryn breathed out, and then took his breath back in when T'nor announced they were heading between. "Three long moments, boy, then you can open your eyes and breathe again. It won't be pleasant, but it's not all that bad either."
They entered the blackness of between...
