Ruarth and I remained in the Weyr for quite a while, but it became apparent right off the top that I was not going to remain in the Weyrlings wing. It wasn't just myself uncomfortable with the huge age difference between myself and the others, it was the Weyrlingmaster as well, who had difficulty looking up at me and calling me a Weyrling -- even though that's truly what I was. But though I was moved into my own Weyr, for the duration, I was expected to do exactly the same work as the younger members, and I did so eagerly. It had been perhaps centuries since I had the chance to actually work for my living, I still hate begging, and of course scrounging is very low on my list. Ruarth grew at an incredible rate! He never had an eating problem, like myself he seemed able to subside on the smaller portion and the sensible treat now and again. Even at a youngling age, not yet full grown, he had learned to hunt out the tunnel snakes which were common to the weyr. He had reflexes which outdid many of the Browns and Bronzes, yet he was set to a crawl when we compared ourselves to the Greens.
					Those Greens entranced us. Both of us. Halfway because they were so wonderfully flexible, but also because their riders were so easy on the eyes as well! When Ruarth was almost ready to fly, see the picture above? He and I were moved into more permanent barracks, in a higher part of the Weyr. There I was to meet my weyrmate, and I'll tell you about him later! I was so caught up with the thrill of still being here, still being able to wash the hide of this lovely sapphire dragon, feed him or watch him hunt, that... I had forgotten about my fear of heights.
		Ruarth promised me that on our first flight together, he wouldn't do any tricks. We'd already seen a Bronze practically do a barrel roll, and I almost fainted. Looking over the high edge of the weyr bowl, from the drum heights, the wind caught my hair. Ruarth was already flying, soaring with his wings full of the warm currents over the edge of the beach. >>You will join me, V'nya,<< he thought to me. >>Because you and I are one.<< "What if I just want to watch?" I said, and the drummer nearby looked at me and laughed, probably guessing at my fears.  He came to my side. "Well," he said, "I've rarely seen a man like you, and I've never seen one afraid to fly!" He clapped me on the shoulder (all he could reach, for he was a stout man) and went back to watching the skies. I did too. But I was watching Ruarth. I would ride him, I promised myself. I had lived for millennia, and I had done so many things. Why this? Why would this prevent me from being a true Dragon Rider?  It would not, I decided. I would conquer my fear. Ruarth and I lined up just like the rest, after our breakfast and morning chores, after our classes about wind and wing. He and I watched the other, larger and bolder dragons take to the air like they had never done anything on the ground. When it was our turn, I settled onto the harness -- remembering that my friend, my dragon, my partner in mind and soul, was below me and not some unconnected beast like on Zekira -- and snugged in. I think that my eyes were closed the whole time we flew that first time together. But when I was telling my weyrmate about it, later, he told me the same story! There are more stories to come... READ about the ADULT STAGE!