Sarinok had never stood for a Hatching before. He was awed at the size of the Grounds It was a beautiful hatching, and he and his sister Jeniae were happy – the awe of the hatching grounds wiped out completely by the joy of Impression.

Ducath slept deeply on his couch in the Weyrling Barracks, and S’rino could hardly keep his eyes open as the Weyrlingmaster gave them first day instructions. "If your hatchling is hungry, feed him, but don’t let him gorge. If she’s itchy, oil her. If they’re really itchy, or flaking, scrub, then oil them. You’ll have to find where you stop and your dragon begins for yourself. If you’re thirsty, but nothing quenches your thirst, maybe it’s not you that’s thirsty, but your dragon. Now, your dragons are all sleeping, an half of you are too. Get some rest – you’ll need it. This is the first day of the rest of your lives as Dragonriders. Dismissed!"

S’rino wrapped his arm around his younger sister’s shoulders, giving her a quick hug. "Sleep well, Jeniae – hug Phylith for me, ok?" She smiled at him sleepily.

"Ditto. Tell Ducath hiya for me."

Unbeknownst to this pair, their younger brother Kolmer had recently become K’mer. He and Unath were happy now at Wu Weyr.

S’rino sat down on the edge of the blue’s little stone couch, and rubbed his dragon affectionately. "Yes," he said softly. "Jeniae says hiya."

"I love you Ducath." He said, then yawned. "Are you still tired?"

"Rest, my friend. You’ll feel like you don’t have to sleep all the time after a few days."

Ducath sighed draconically and S’rino slipped into bed. He wondered what life as a dragonrider was like, and how long it would be until he could see his other siblings again.

The blue Weyrling landed on the ground badly. Ducath had yet to master the art of flying, and until he did, S’rino wasn’t allowed to fly with his blue.

They’d endured firestone training, and looked forward to graduation. S’rino and Ducath had found something they both enjoyed – exploring. When the time came, S’rino hoped to transfer back to East Rock. He knew how far away East Rock was, and how big Ducath would be by their standards, but he wasn’t out of the ordinary...

S’rino, make that choice when we graduate. Ducath said. We can’t go there until we can fly together.

Zimea came skittering into the weyr, closely persued by brown Aemiz. She chittered at S'rino, who couldn't help her at the precise moment, as he was lashing his belongings to Ducath's riding straps. They were leaving Falas Weyr, with the likelihood of never returning.

S'rino had met with open resistance when he'd requested transfer to Ryslen. It only got worse when word came that he'd been specifically requested to return to East Rock, to join the Crimson Blade Wing, led by Im'mel of Two River, no less! S'rino was honored and had begun packing that very instant.

Why would any Weyr want to detain riders who weren't content with where they were? What was stopping any blue or green or even bronzerider from packing up his or her things, strapping them to their dragon, and just taking off, leaving forever.

Absolutely nothing Ducath said, dipping his shoulder so S'rino could swing up.

You've got that right. S'rino said, and Ducath ran for the edge of the ledge, jumping off, and pumping his shimmering blue wings to gain altitude. If the records didn't get changed to reflect their transfer, so be it! S'rino, Ducath, Jeniae and Phylith, and their flitters were out of Falas!

Just how long is forever?

Background from Darqfire's Peeling Pixels

Impressed at Falas Weyr.