| ~*An Empty Weyr*~ | ||
|
This
next weyr is surprisingly dusty. And cold. No dragon would want to live here.
You sneeze, and a teenage boy looks up from a desk, that have been carved into the
stone. "Hello?" he says. You nod to him, and he points you to a
chair. You sneeze again. The boy frowns. He grabs a broom from a corner,
and tries to sweep the dust away through a dragon ledge. The dust is disturbed, and
you sneeze yet again. You are about to say something to the boy when he interupts,
"Don't say anythign about the dust. I just recieved the weyr today, and it was
in this state already. Don't blame me that Reycina made me write out records instead
of cleaning it." "Reycina?" you ask, in between sneezing fits.
"She's the headwoman of the Weyr this weyr is in," he says. You
nod, and continue sneezing. The boy sighs, and leaves the room. He returns
with some water, practically shoving it in your face. You take it, glaring
kind of. The boy glares back, saying, "introduce yourself!" You snap
back at him, "Not before you!" And then tell him your name. He says,
"My name is Sielan. Pronounced sea-lan. 'Lan' ryming with barn, but with
no 'r' sound. I'm the youngest son of Seaholder Siewell and his wife Delan.
I'm a journeyman wine-crafter and candidate at Avri
Weyr. I'm 19. If it weren't for this stupid Search, and if my dad hadn't
pushed me along I wouldn't be here writing records and knowing I'll be offered as a
candidate to the 'great dragons'. Can save myself from Thread without their
help. Stupid dragons." You stand up. Who is this Sielan to insult
dragons! You put down the glass and storm out the weyr. Backround and text (c) Cara Pollock 1999. May not be used without her permission. |
