DRAGONSONG
Shimmering through the dark, a glimmering golden egg lay in the sand. A wedge-shaped head gently nudges it. The eggs would hatch soon. A slender woman lays against her golden queen, smiling and talking to her softly. "Kirenth you are just brilliant. Do you want to be oiled?" Kirenth crooned and bobs her head up and down. Together the two females leave, letting the eggs to stay warm on the heated sands of the Hatching Ground.
"Samara! Get in here this moment!" The deep booming voice of the Mastersmith shouted, a small lithe girl races in carrying a tray of klah.
"Yes Mastersmith?" Samara replied softly, staring steadily at the ground.
"Finally you brought me my klah! I have been waiting forever!" The Mastersmith snarled, and wrenches the tray from Samara's dainty hands. The lithe little girl scampers out of the room avoiding her father's wrath from going any farther.
A hunting hound bays loudly out in the forest, little Samara looks at the sky and smiles at the silhouette of a dragon flying across the blue sky. "Wow.." The little girl says in awe, daydreaming of one day being up there on her own dragon and flying away from her abusive father. Her dream was cut short by the rasp of her father's booming voice coming from outside her door. Sighing, Samara leaves her window and goes to the door and opens it. A loud smack was emitted from her cheek as her father slapped Samara so hard it sent her sprawling on the ground.
"You little rat! I knew you wouldn't actually get me proper klah! Now you will regret it." The Mastersmith snapped and Samara knew he had gotten into the wine again. Her father was never in a good mood when he was drunk. The Mastersmith picks her up by her arm making her yelp in pain. Cackling he throws her across the room and she lands with a sickening thud. Holding in tears of pain she struggles back up and looks up at her father defiantly. The Mastersmith leaves grumbling at how she was the worst child ever. Samara whimpers and manages to make it back to her bed and under the hides. Finally, she falls asleep.
A bang of the hammer and the hissing of heated metal surrounds Samara. All the normal sounds of her daily life. Being only 5 Turns old, she shouldn't be allowed in the craft room but her father didn't exactly care for her safety. Samara grips a hammer and musters all of her little strength, swinging it down on an ax, sharpening the dull blade. Sparks fly all around her, usually it was a wonderful sight. But today, the sparks made Samara bored. Dropping the hammer, she left the craftroom and snick out of the Crafthall. She was going to play with her friend from the Fort Weyr. Naturally, she shouldn't go play with him, as he was Weyrbred, and she was Craftbred. But as children are innocent, it didn't matter to them.
"Samara! You made it!" The excited voice of her best friend reassured her.
"Kiron!" Samara cried in joy and hugged her friend. Unfortunately he was seven Turns, and since he was Weyrbred he would get to Impress a dragon. But that was when he was at least thirteen Turns old. So she still had time to be with her friend before he became a weyrling.
"How's your father doing? Certainly not abusing you still right?" Kiron said and puts his hands on her small shoulders. Samara does her best to not wince at the pain.
"Kiron you know the answer to that. My father is a troubled man. Always getting out the wine to drown his sorrows. Never the same after my mother was killed in a Craft accident." Samara sighed and turned her eyes to the ground.
"Oh Samara..." Kiron moves Samara's soft brown hair out of her face gently and tilts her face up to him. "You know that this cannot keep going on." Kiron's brilliant blue eyes searched Samara's emerald green ones, desperate for emotion to show in them. Jerking away Samara cross her arms and her lips set in a thin line, eyes narrowed.
"I thought we came here to play Kiron. Not talk about my life." Samara remarked coldly, startling young Kiron.
"Of course Samara!" Kiron grinned and together the children race off into the forest to play.
Blinking open her shining green eyes, Samara glanced out of her window. Daylight? Samara thought in dismay, and sprang out her bed to change quickly into her clothes before her father got angry with her. "Samara. Open your door." The sweet laced voice of one of the Craftwives called softly. Trembling Samara opens her door and jumps into the arms of Fela, the one person she could trust.
"Sorry I got out of bed late Lady Fela." Samara cried quietly, hoping, praying that the Mastersmith wouldn't come in.
"Quiet my dear, now hurry. You mustn't let your father know you slept in." Lady Fela kisses the little girl's head and leaves the room with her. Together the two girls creep through the halls and into the kitchen where they started making klah. The heavy footfalls of the Mastersmith echo through the silent halls. Samara turns her frightened eyes up to Fela, who warns the small girl to look defiant and not afraid of her abusive father. Samara forces her fear into defiance. The Mastersmith calls for some klah and Samara brings it right to him, a glimmer of hope in her defiant green eyes.
"Get out of my face you little rat." The Mastersmith snapped and glared at the dismayed little girl. Setting down the tray, Samara scurries back to Lady Fela, her eyes watering.
"Oh my dear, come here." Lady Fela picks up the small five Turns old girl. Cradling little Samara, Lady Fela sang to her softly. "It is going to be okay, child. Don't you worry." Lady Fela smiled down at Samara. That would be the last time she did too.
Samara watched as Lady Fela argued with the Mastersmith, bringing her knees to her small chest, Samara shut her eyes. Suddenly the shrill scream of a woman breaks the tension in the air, and the great flapping of dragon wings drowns out the screaming of Lady Fela. Samara opens her green eyes wide and gasped at the brilliant golden queen dragon, Kirenth, and her rider Weyrwoman Zaila. "Miss Lady Fela, would you like to try and Impress the new queen when she hatches?" Zaila asked, her voice full of authority.
Lady Fela's face turned a ghostly white. "Y-Yes, I would love too." Lady Fela stammered and took Baila's hand, hopping onto Kirenth.
Child, your Lady Fela will be just fine. I assure you. A sweet dreamy voice murmured in Samara's head. Who said that? Samara thought in confusion and looked up at the women who had taken off on the queen Kirenth. A hand gripped Samara's shoulder and she looked up to see her father looking down at her. His gray hard eyes shined with loneliness, heart-brake, and anger. "Father?" Samara whimpered, and it dawned on her that in two Turns, she hasn't called her father "father".
"What did you call me?" The Mastersmith demanded, his eyes set ablaze with hatred and anger.
"Mastersmith." Samara stammered in dismay, and took a step back in terror. Her terror calmed down as the Mastersmith's eyes filled with tears. She only saw her father cry once, and that was when her mother had died. "Do you want some klah?"
"Yes I would like that." A small sigh escapes the Mastersmith, and he walked off, his thick frame unmistakeable as he blended into the many craft members. Samara spun on her heels and headed to the hot baths to clean off all the grime. She would be at the Hatching, even if her father did not want to attend. She would make it there, and no one would stop her.
Once a girl has made her choice
There is no way to use your voice
To change the way she is going
Because you have no way of knowing