Allund strolled down the long, twisting tunnels of the rider's hall. The red-orange flames of the wall torches lit his path, occasionally leaving him in shadows as he wandered aimlessly. He was now a boy of 18 years, apprenticed to Dungar in the smity as a metal shaper.
Something warm and soft brushed up against his legs, purring contentedly. Allund smiled and knelt down to scoop up the black feline in his arms. He stroked the cat's soft fur and held him close to his chest. He had named the cat Lucky because... well who else would think to name a black cat 'Lucky'?
Allund rolled his shoulders back and smiled, walking into his own weyr. He set Lucky down and the cat happily trotted over to his basket for a nap. Again, he rolled his shoulders. His back was still a bit sore from an earlier 'adventure'. He'd gotten a tattoo. Two in fact. Small wings stretched out over his shoulder blades, curving together at the center of his back. The blue ink has set almost immediately, as Rugan said it would but there was a lingering numbness from the herbs used to clean the tattoo after the operation. Allund grinned, quite proud of himself. He'd done everything his mother didn't want him doing. His glance turned to the empty dragon bed at the other end of the weyr. Everything but one thing.
"Hey 'lund." M'lor called from the entrance. The youth leaned against the hard rock wall, watching Allund admire himself in the mirror. "Star gazing again?" He grinned and walked towards his five year friend.
"Of course." Allund drawled, frowning and holding his nose high in the air. He didn't keep the position long before breaking out in laughter. M'lor shook his head then motioned towards the door.
"Mystic wants to talk to you. I think it's about impression."
"Really?" The former Duke's son bubbled with excitement. Maybe it was finally his turn. He thanked the blue rider before brushing past him and hurrying down the hallways to Mystic's weyr.
* * * "Remember, I want my son to have the best treatment at this Weyr. He is, of course, going to impress a bronze so arrangements should be made for him to have the largest weyr. It must be a gold's clutch..."
Mystic sighed softly and tapped her finger against the wooden table as the duchess chattered on and on. Her long, violet dress swished across the floor, the trailing edges making a fine target for Mystic's horde of flits. Hope quietly kept them in check though was verging on letting them go, just to shut the woman up. Mystic closed her eyes slowly.
"I told you before... ma'am, it's a green's clutch at Rylsen. Three in fact and-"
"That will simply not do!" The woman's voice rose to a pitch that should have shattered glass. Mystic winced.
Allund peered around the corner quietly. He remembered a few years before when he'd been listening intently at this door for the outcome of his searching. His breath caught in his throat. Once again, his mother was about to ruin things. Mystic had found a place for him to stand and his mother wasn't going to let him go! That would have to change.
Something bright flashed just outside his vision. Allund shifted his position to see down the corridor leading to the flight fields. There stood M'lor and T'lor, waving like idiots to attract his attention. He squinted to see past them. Something large and blue moved, then two somethings. He immediately recognized the twin's twin blue dragons whom had hatched from one egg.
"And the Weyrwoman is to be informed that..." His mother droaned on. Allund bit his lip in indecision. If he ran out now, his mother would see him. Then again, that might be useful...
Allund quickly dashed into the weyr, smiling broadly to both Mystic and his mother. "Hey mom! I'm going to Rylsen. Bye!" Without missing a step, the youth walked past the two woman and out the corridor leading to the flight fields. As soon as his feet touched the soft grass he broke into a run.
"Hurry up!" M'lor called from the back of his dark blue Dracoth just as the women emerged from the weyr. Allund took a running leap at the boy's outstretched hand and quickly scrambled up to the dragon's bare back. He had once last chance to wave to his mother before both dragons took to the air and disappeared between.
A few moments of peaceful silence passed while the duchess stared at the sky in disbelief. Mystic slipped unnoticed back into her weyr and, once out of ear shot, broke out in laughter. This would certainly be an interesting hatching.
Allund is a candidate at: Rylsen Weyr
Lucky is from: The Protectorate