Back to page 2 of Baryn's story
Baryn was crushed. He would surely have to re-think this. His first love was truly the wine craft. How could he get along for ... however long it was... before he could be allowed to sample his own wares?
He knew that dragon riders were notorious drinkers! So it couldn't be THAT long, could it?
Over the next few sevendays, the clutch hardened and Baryn learned about how to oil the leather harness, how to cut dragon-sized bites of meat, and formation after formation.
He hoped it would be worth it.
***
The day of the hatching was excrutiatingly hot. He was so unused to this weather, but even less used to the fact that everyone just about got naked and swam their days away when they were able. Baryn wasn't unattractive, but he was certainly a little too shy to just dive right in with everyone else.
At last, the hatching had started, but oddly the dragoness and her mate had moved all the eggs out to the bowl, rather than keeping them within their sweltering sands. It was a wise decision, everyone agreed. Though there was rain on the horizon, and some even started by the hatching, it was still quite hot and the dragons did not want the candidates to pass out before impressing!
It was a beautiful start: a bronze came from his shell and impressed quickly! A green was next, then a brown and another green. It seemed like forever before a deeply blue bodied and icy-winged dragonet came from his shell. There was a deep, well-formed voice which announced to Baryn, I am Xyanlith! And B'ryn stood forward in pleasure to greet the dragon.
J'rin, the search rider, leaned around to the other who had been with him on the Gather search, and laughed something about being right.
Of course he was right! His dragon is already proud of me. Maybe I will become a search dragon? Or perhaps you and I shall go looking for the perfect fruits. What is 'wine' anyway?
B'ryn laughed deeply and was thrilled to be able to prove himself, at last.
The vintner nodded. He'd *mostly* managed to remain dry during the first few months of his dragon's life, but while they grew up together B'ryn realized that it was only because the dragon would be susceptable to the same drunken fits that some irresponsible humans could, that they were meant to stay away from it.
As a vintner, however, B'ryn knew that his craft could just as easily be tested by his peers, and got the chance to continue his work while still a weyrling.
When they got to fly, finally, B'ryn knew that his craft would only prosper. From above, he could see the lay of lands below, he could tell where the right grapes were being grown, and spot blight before it got too spread out. It was perfect, being on a berry-festival dragon and able to find fruits for the craft.
I wish there was something that could make me silly like your wine does to your friends, Xyanlith bespoke without jealousy. It could be fun. But dragons are large and sometimes dangerous. So I suppose it is also a good thing we do not get drunk.
"I think so," B'ryn said. "Imagine yourself weaving around the skies? What if Thread began to fall?"
We are not thread fighters, B'ryn, we are harvesters. Even though I know your drills and we are learning more every day, you know we will not be in a fighting wing.
B'ryn nodded, remembering something that was said when one of the Protectorate leaders had come to Ryslen. They were solemn, they were serious, something was going on, and no matter his station in life otherwise, B'ryn was a part of the Protectorate, and was therefore subject to its whims. Perhaps even more so than the other fighting riders.
It will be all right. Whatever they are thinking of doing will turn out for the best, I think. Come, let me look at those fields.
"There aren't any berries or apples out there!"
No, but there are wherries!
"What makes you think she'll even let you into her flight?" B'ryn laughed. "I mean, come on, she's two turns older than you, and you're --"
I am what? Just a blue?
"A berry blue," B'ryn said. "But... look over there. There's a beautiful dragon and ... Oh."
The black one? That is Beena's Minath, and he is a HE. But you like Beena don't you? She is dark and pretty, like ... What are those dark pretty things?
"Blackfruit. Onyx. Obsidian. Mahogony. Darkwine. Night." B'ryn blinked at the woman, he could barely see her from their height, but... The White River born black dragon came swooping up to join the flight around the Protectorate's new digs, and apparently Xyanlith and he got along just fine.
He says it is a shame you will not be able to put me in the flight they are participating in.
"She's in a flight already?" B'ryn moaned.
But it is an odd flight. Maybe we can sit and watch. It will be at the Healing Den, so there will always be room to watch.
B'ryn blinked. "Well, that's a plus. I guess I could ask about it... We could bring wine, there's always need for wine at parties after flights!"
That's right. Good thinking. It will make you happy to be with her, won't it?
"It sure will..."
