Training was difficult, but Theran enjoyed it nevertheless. He felt as though he and Adar were always being challenged, and these challenges were always something they were ready to meet. Like most of the young weyrlings, Th'ran was most excited when they finally learned how to fly -- and was especially excited when they learned how to do exciting new things with their flying skills.

"How could my people have ever thought that this was evil?" he asked as he and Adar soared above the clouds one day at training, a feeling of immense elation coursing through him.

Perhaps they are suspicious of something that is too much fun, Adar suggested.

"Maybe," Th'ran agreed. "I do miss them, though. I just wish they weren't, well, wrong."

He knew that his family was wrong, now. They needed the dragonriders. Surely they must understand that. But they didn't. They would still think that the dragonriders were evil, and Th'ran could never go home. He was an outcast from his own people, and an outsider to everyone else. But he was not alone. He grinned and stroked his dragon's golden hide. No, he would never be alone.