Candidate Shetall

Shetall's story. (©SunBlind)

Shetall was the only son of a Master Weaver. On the other hand, he had six sisters. Now if that wasn't bad enough, he didn't like anything to do with weaving, couldn't his father have been Master of any craft but that one? Still grumbling to himself, he picks up the baskets of wool to be delivered to one of his father's apprentices. So far Shetall was able to avoid getting too involved in the craft, but soon his father will want him to concentrated on his studies.

Dumping the basket outside of the apprentice's room, he kicks it, maybe just a bit too hard. The basket breaks. Quickly Shetall bends down to fix the damage as much as possible. He hoped nobody saw him.

The blond boy wasn't so lucky. A brown haired imp jumped at him from a shadowed corner, "I'll tell father you did that. He's already mad that you "lost" all your needles you needed to finish the tapestry."

He glares at his sister. "Allaria, if you dare tell him...." but she disappeared after sticking her tongue out at her brother. He grabs one of the balls of wool to throw but she was already far down the hall.

So, is this what someone not big enough to be a smith must become, a weaver? Shetall couldn't sing well, not enough to be a harper. Maybe he should join the renengades and live holdless and craftless. But he couldn't imagine living through Threadfall without good thick stone over your head.

He heard his father call for him. He pretended not to hear and snuck outside instead. He could always claim he was here all along. That's when he saw it. A blue dragon and his rider. "Wow," Shetall thought, the dragon was beautiful. And it was looking right at him. The averaged sized, averaged weight boy was frozen in place. Just like most average people when faced with the swiling blue of a dragon's eye. Now what could a dragon find so interesting in such an average person.

The rider suddenly spun around and looked about. He turned to the dragon and Shetall could hear him say, "Him? Are you sure?" The dragon seemed to nod, and the rider turned back and called out, "You, boy. Come over here."

Shetall looked about but there was no one else to be seen. He ran over to the rider thinking that he was needed for some errand. The rider looked him up and down and nodded, "Yes, I think he will do. You're right as usual," and he pats the blue on the neck.

Then Shetall heard his father's voice, "So there you are. I've always known you hated weaving with a passion. I thought you'd might like a chance at Impression. So when these two came in search, I thought I might send you back with them. But before you go, I want those needles back. They were my best ones."

Shetall couldn't believe what he was hearing. To stand on the Sands of ???????? as a candidate! And even if he doesn't Impress, he could stay on in the weyr. That would be a dream come true. And no more weaving! "Yes," he said before anyone could change their minds. He nearly leapt onto the dragon's back without any help at all, that's how excited he was. But he wasn't quite prepared to go between. He hoped he would get use to that ::shiver::.

Rider: Sh'tall