"Are you two sure you're okay?" Weyrwoman Magika was obviously worried about her two unexpected guests. She'd been on her way to Ryslen Weyr, a big flurry about to hatch, when she'd literally ran into two of the oddest characters she'd ever met.
"We're fine." The shorter man managed to snap. "Just scared us out of thirty years growth!!"
Magika couldn't help smirking. "I apologized for that. Hyth didn't see you. In our defence you did just pop out of nowhere."
"Hyth..." The girl's voice had an odd accent to it. "Is that the name of your..." She couldn't bring herself to say the word.
"Dragon?" Magika filled in. The Weyrwoman couldn't help but be slightly amused. She'd never met anybody who didn't believe in dragons.
"Monster!" The man filled in angrily. The girl smiled faintly and spoke a few words in a language Magika didn't understand. The man replied and the went quiet. During the exchange, Magika studied the both of them.
The girl, who'd introduced herself as Snowstalker, of the Mountain Trevenici, was obviously dressed for the oddly cold weather. She was wearing various layers of fur that she was gradually peeling off as she sat in the warm heat of one of the guest rooms at Ryslen Weyr. Her hair was a flaming red colour and was kept in one long french braid that ran all the way down her back and brushed against the back of her knees, which, considering her height, was no short distance. Various pieces of bone carvings, semi-precious gemstones and fur adorned the long braid and Snowstalker didn't seem to notice the weight that all the adornments must have added. She was easily 6'4" when standing and was in excellent shape. Her eyes were clear blue and tended to pick out every detail from her surroundings. As the layers of fur came off, and more and more of her skin was visable, it became obvious that a good portion of her skin was covered with tatoos. The symbols obviously meant something, but Magika didn't want to pry. The girl was obviously uncomfortable indoors and would rather be out in the snow than making small talk in a language she called Elder Speak to a woman who rode a dragon.
The man, on the other hand, seemed to at least enjoy the fact that he was once again beginning to feel his toes. He'd said that his name was Mishar and that he was Pecwae. He obviously expected that to explain everything as he never elaborated on the statement. He was much shorter than his friend, about 4'5", and a lot thinner. Upon asking if the two wanted anything to eat, the Weyrwoman assumed his figure was based at least partially on the fact that he was a total vegetarian. His hair was straight black and hung to his shoulder's in an amazingly orderly fashion for hair. His eyes were dark brown and equally as inquisitive as Snowstalker's, but they obviously contained more wisdom as well. What kept drawing Magika's eyes back to him though, were his features. His eyes were almond shaped and slightly bigger than what would be considered normal for a face his size. His ears were also marginally larger than would be expected and pointed, like an elf's. He was obviously not an elf though, and snorted and made some comment in their language when Magika even suggested such a thing. Mishar was obviously less suited to the cold weather as he was just wearing various layers of homespun cloth. The only adornment he wore was a broach made of silver and platinum which he claimed was a protection charm.
"So," Magika finally broke the silence. "How did you get here?"
"We walked through a Portal." Snowstalker shifted uncomfortably in the chair and took off another fur wrapping.
It's like the dance of seven veils...how far do you think she'll go? The Weyrwoman tried hard to ignore her golden dragon and her attempt at a joke.
"Where is it?!?" Mishar jumped to his feet. "I know Snowstalker can't hear anything, but I saw you smirk!!" He pointed an accusing finger at the Weyrwoman. "I heard that blasted monster of yours!!"
Magika was genuinely surprised. "You can hear Hyth?"
"He's Pecwae." Snowstalker said, expecting that to explain everything.
"I have no idea what a Pecwae is." Magika finally admitted.
"You don't?" Mishar seemed insulted. "What part of Loerem are we on anyways?"
Magika leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea, the liquid was only slightly laced with whisky. "Well I've found your problem. This isn't Loerem."
"Of course it is!" Mishar sat down and glared at Magika. "It has to be."
"If it's not Loerem...where is it?" Snowstalker turned as white as the substance she was named after.
"It's Loerem!!" Mishar refused to admit anything else.
"It's Pern." Magika corrected, silently warning Hyth, and any other dragons near to keep quiet. "Ryslen Weyr to be exact." She quickly tried to change the topic of discussion. "Has he always been able to hear dragons?"
"He can speak with all animals, he's Pecwae..." Snowstalker smiled. "And you really don't know what that means do you..."
"This has to be Loerem!!" Mishar was slightly behind the conversation.
"You got here through a portal?" Magika asked. "Who's the mage?"
"Mishar is an earth-mage, all Pecwae are, but you do not need a mage to travel a Portal. You just walk right through." Snowstalker seemed amazingly calm about this new change. The feeling that she was being pulled towards her destiny, being pulled towards what the gods expected of her, calmed her immensly.
Mishar felt the same tug and it was causing him to panic. "This is crazy!!"
"Why did you come?" Magika finally got to the question she'd wanted to ask from the beginning. She could feel Hyth making a suggestion without actually using words. She didn't want to frighten the Pecwae any further.
Snowstalker smiled and looked at Mishar. The Pecwae sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "The gods pulled us."
"They'd better pull you out to the hatching grounds." Magika smiled.
"Why?" The two asked the question at the same time.
"Hyth just made you candidates." Magika smiled at the blank looks she was receiving. "I'm sure Tiyanni will let you stand here, after all, you were pulled here."
The two outsiders were obviously wary and confused. "What's a candidate?"
"Boy..." Magika smiled. "The clutch hatches any day now and you have a lot to learn."
Mishar turned to Snowstalker and switched back to Tirniv, the Trevenici native language. "I told you this was a bad idea!"
Snowstalker smiled. "I told you we were going to be fine."
"This is not fine!"
Snowstalker watched the dragons in the snow, already amazed by them. She knew that Mishar was equally amazed, anger and frustration were just his way of dealing with it. "Everything's perfect..."
"What'll we tell your father?"
"The truth?"
Mishar sighed and joined his friend at the window. Even snow didn't seem so bad when it was near these amazing beasts. "I guess..." He sighed, finally giving in to himself. "I guess we'll work something out. I guess this is...perfect." The snow suddenly began to fall, drifting down around the Weyr and disappearing into the already large piles of the white stuff that were stacked around the Weyrbowl. "If it would only stop snowing..."
Snowstalker and Mishar are candidates at Ryslen Weyr.
Background from Seasonal Backgrounds.
The world of Loerem and all creatures within were created by the art of Larry Elmore and the words of Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. Go here to find out more about their wonderful world.