An Education in Dragons

Writers: DL, JR
Date Posted: 17th May 2011

Characters: S'ryad, S'bryn
Description: Surryad helps S'bryn wash Zaharath
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 1, day 17 of Turn 6
Notes: Mentor Approved

Surryad had a break from his Candidate chores. The sunshine outside beckoned
him and he couldn't pass up a few free moments of looking around the Weyr
that was now his home. Finishing a meatroll, he walked towards the lake,
where a lot of riders were out washing their dragons.

Surryad picked a spot on the sand and sat down to watch. He was still shy
about being around the huge beasts but he knew that would change with time.
His arms draped casually over his bent knees, he watched, looking over the
variety of colors and the sizes amassed.

Green was not his color - or his lifestyle. At least, Surryad was fairly
sure of that. But blue - blue held possibility. He liked the color blue.
Then there was brown, which Surryad felt would be a solid chance. But
bronze? **I'm no leader,** he thought to himself, though the bronze dragon
nearby was beautiful and appealing.

Surryad watched the rider wash the dragon for a long while, not speaking.
Would the rider like help? Bronzes were large dragons and took a while to
get clean - maybe it would be a good idea to offer. Standing up and brushing
the sand from his pants, Surryad approached, standing just out of intruding
on their space, and asked, "Would you like help, sir?"

S'bryn glanced over at the query, taking in the young man in a glance.
Great, a Candidate. "Ever washed a dragon before?" Please, please let him
say yes, the bronzerider thought to himself. He wasn't up for teaching a
novice how to get around Zaharath right now.

"No, but I'm a fast learner," Surryad replied with what he hoped was
confident grin. "It's my first sevenday in the Weyr, sir. I just arrived as
a Candidate."

He resisted sighing. "Alright, c'mon over here," the bronzerider quickly
explained the process, adding finally, "And use plenty of pressure, you
won't hurt him." Why did he have to get stuck with a new Candidate?

"Yes, sir," Surryad said, "Would he...would he mind if I started on his back
first?" Generally the ridges of a dragon acquired the most dirt and were the
hardest to get.

The bronzerider nodded, preferring to handle the bronze's wings himself.
The dragon was half-submerged in the water, limbs sprawled. Glancing up at
Zaharath's bulk, he looked at Surryad, considering. "Are you going to be
able to get up there, or do you need help?"

"I won't need help, sir," Surryad said, and then, as though he had been
vaulting to dragons' backs all his life, the young man found purchase and
was easily balanced on the bronze's back. "I'm used to climbing," he
explained to S'bryn. He knelt to begin on the first ridge, quietly admiring
the color of Zaharath.

"How long have you been a dragonrider, sir, if you don't mind me asking?"
the Candidate inquired politely.

Shards, how long _had_ it been? It took him a few moments calculation before
he could answer. "Doesn't feel like it's been so long, but I impressed the
turn that my sister was born and she's seventeen," the bronzerider shook his
head ruefully.

"Almost as long as I am old," Surryad said thoughtfully, paying particular
attention to a patch. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, is it worth it?
With Threadfall and all?"

"It," S'bryn took a long moment to consider his answer, "It has its moments.
Don't let anyone fool you into thinking Threadfall isn't the scariest
experience you'll ever have. As a rider, you have to face that all the time,
but having a dragon choose you is like nothing else."

"Do you ever get over the fear?" Surryad asked. "I mean, is Threadfall
always scary or do you just get used to it after a while?"

The bronzerider nodded, "You do get used to it after awhile. The Threadfall
in good weather, at least. It's still nerve-wracking when it's windy, foggy,
or raining. Makes things even more unpredictable and the risk of getting
'Scored is exponentially higher."

Surryad winced. Morbid curiosity got the better of him. "Have you...have you
ever been Threadscored sir?"

"Not seriously, no. Just the odd burns and such from ash and debris during
'Fall," he answered. "But that's unusual. I've been very lucky."

"Ash and debris?" Surryad asked. "Like, charred Thread?"

Well, at least the boy had some sense to think through things on his own,
S'bryn thought, "Yes, exactly."

"No wonder the dragons always need cleaning after Threadfall," Surryad
thought, now understanding. "He's a beautiful color, sir. Was he born this
color or did he grow into it?"

The bronzerider chuckled, "That's exactly right. Not only are they filthy,
but if that stuff is left on their hides for too long it can really irritate
them." He was caught off guard by the question about his dragon's color.
"Zaharath was a little darker than this when he hatched. He lightened up
some - a little more of that gold undertone showed up when he went through
the big growth spurts while we were in training. He thanks you for the
compliment too," S'bryn added when the big bronze prompted him.

"Oh, he can...he can hear me?" Surryad asked, surprised. He was never
certain if the dragons ever heard him physically. He figured their silence
meant they didn't but then again, didn't dragons only _talk_ to their
riders? He hadn't heard anything about hearing others outside of their
riders.

"Sure. They just can't talk back to you. Well, they can if they want to, but
it's very rare," the bronzerider amended. "They rely on us riders to
translate for them, most of the time."

The word translate caused Surryad to furrow his brow in thought. "Translate
what, sir?" he asked. "Do they not understand all words?"

S'bryn chuckled, "I meant to translate what they're saying for you
non-riders. I guess relay would be a better term to use."

"Oh, heh," Surryad said, understanding. "That makes more sense. I didn't
think dragons were uneducated. Not like Holders are anyway. Were you...were
you Weyr or Holdbred, sir?"

"You might want to be careful who you say something like that to," the
bronzerider pointed out. "I consider myself Hallbred - my father is a Miner
- but there's some who'd be offended by the implication that Holders are all
stupid."

"I'm a Holder," Surryad said, looking at the bronzerider but contemplating
his words as well. "I didn't mean any offense. But I know we're not always
the brightest bunch. I'll remember that though for next time, sir," he said,
thinking of his father, who had denied him the study of a craft and hadn't
encouraged his son to learn, only to work.

Well, he was at the Weyr now and by all the eggs on the Hatching Grounds,
Surryad was not going to be denied any longer. He'd learn everything he
could, meet everyone he could, and get involved. He wasn't going back to the
Hold - not without a fight. His thoughts manifested into his hands and he
scrubbed Zaharath hard. He'd Impress - any color besides green - and he'd be
a _good_ dragonrider.

The bronzerider finished Zaharath's wings and climbed up to help Surryad
finish the bronze's back. "I understand, I'm just pointing it out." He ran
his hands over the areas the Candidate had already worked on, surprised to
find the boy had taken him at his word and used a good amount of pressure
when scrubbing. "You've done a good job up here."

Surryad looked up, surprised to be jolted out of his thoughts. "Th-Thank
you, sir. I try," he said. "I figure I should get some practice in before
Impressing my own. He doesn't need to be washed every day does he?"

"No. Every third or fourth day, unless he makes a mess of himself somehow.
Sometimes he'll get scaly patches that need to be oiled between baths, too,"
S'bryn told him, and shifted up toward his bronze's wingjoints. "See here?"
He pointed to the thick skin at the joints, "These sort of spots are tough,
thick hide and need extra attention. The oils we use help soften and protect
from itching or even cracking."

"What happens if it cracks?" Surryad asked, looking over the skin with
S'bryn.

S'bryn shook his head, "Same thing as if you have a cut. It hurts, can get
infected or irritated, and will need to be bandaged and treated regularly
until it's healed. Generally it's much easier to take a few minutes and oil
it well than it is to treat damaged dragon hide."

"Oohh," Surryad said as it sunk in. And he began looking around for any of
said patches. "Does he...know when he has an itching spot? Or one that's
cracking? Or do you have to find them all?"

Grinning, the bronzerider nodded. "I can't tell you how many times this lug
has interrupted me to tell me he's itchy. The dragons can usually tell when
they have a spot, but if you impress you should check them over regularly.
After all this time, I know where Zaharath's trouble spots are. I give him a
full inspection when I bathe him and check the problem areas daily."

"Oh, well, good that they know too," he said with a weak laugh. "I'd hate to
have to search every inch of him daily for spots. I'd never get to
Threadfall!"

"You learn to manage it all. Weyrling training is the worst because you have
to do everything for your dragon. Cutting up their food, cleaning up after,
bathing and all that, plus your own classes. It gets easier in a lot of ways
once you're in the wings," S'bryn pointed out reasonably.

"Oh shells, class!" Surryad said, looking up at the sky and realizing the
time. "I have to get my writing supplies before the next class." He jumped
down from Zaharath and looked at S'bryn. With a bow, he said, "Thank you,
sir, for letting me wash him. Oh, shells, I never introduced myself! I'm
Surryad, sir."

"It's alright. I'm S'bryn, and you already met Zaharath," the bronzerider
chuckled. "Get yourself off to class, youngling."

"Thanks again, sir! It was a pleasure! Thank you too, Zaharath!" Surryad
said to the rider and dragon. "Good luck next Threadfall, sir!" he added as
he trotted off.

S'bryn shook his head. Candidates. At least the boy had been helpful. He
wouldn't mind if Surryad found his way over to help him again in the future.

Last updated on the May 22nd 2011

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An Education in Dragons