Chapter Four: Lessons of a Silver

It was early, Rukbat had hardly risen at all; but as the last watchwher on duty was leaving, a young pair were already out in the bowl despite the time. Calla sat against a large rock, hugging her knees to her chest. Marseth was lying on the ground – not far away to be out of her sights, but as far as possible. She could feel the silver's curious eyes on her, but refused to look back and stared down at the ground instead.

"Trying to avoid someone?"

Yelping, Calla jumped away from the voice that had appeared behind her – which was happening all too often since she Impressed. Unfortunately for her, the person she had been trying to avoid, was also the one who'd just spoken.

I'cas looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, taking in the tiny form of the girl and making her feel completely out of her comfort zone. Turning her head to the side, she refused to reply to him.

Instead, the rider sat himself down on the ground beside her.

"So, is there a particular reason you are doing everything possible to not talk to me?" he asked, pulling off his riding gloves and holding them loosely in his hands.

Calla buried her head in her arms – hating the fact that I'cas could see her face, which always showed every thought that crossed her mind. The rider didn't push her, but she felt all her worries beginning to bubble up inside her, threatening to overflow.

"Because... I'm a failure..." she finally muttered.

I'cas let out a sigh; though it was almost a grateful one.

"You're not," he said warmly.

Snapping her head up and towards him, Calla felt tears prickling in the corners of her eyes – actually feeling angry that he just said that without knowing what was going on.

"I am! Look at us!" She motioned to Marseth who was now chasing Touth's flicking tail. "I thought bonds were meant to be unbelievably strong, like you were one person! That's what everyone else seems like; they can barely be apart from their dragons, and they seem so in tune. But me? I barely feel him in my head! There are times when I can barely hear him, and sometimes he's not there at all. How am I meant to be a rider when I... I... I don't even feel like I love my dragon..."

The tears were released, and the fear that had been buried in Calla's head this whole time seemed to pout out with them. Her panicked and ashamed eyes closed as if to block out the truth in darkness, and she pressed her hands against her aching head.

Then, an arm was around her, pulling her closer to I'cas' caring warmth. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard a light chuckle.

"A delicate bond, a constant pull, rifts easily made, voices easily lost, headaches; it all comes with being a silver rider."

Calla's shoulders tensed, and she dared lift her head up to look at I'cas – he was staring across at the dull silver hide of his dragon; that familiar adoration of a rider in his eyes, but mixed in with a pained smile that Calla somehow understood.

"This is why I wanted to talk to you sooner or later – I had a hunch that this was a characteristic of Silvers. When I first Impressed Touth, I remember his words just never reached me. It was a good few days before I actually heard him speak to me for the first time." I'cas seemed to wince at the memory.

"So, you didn't even know his name?" Calla asked.

"Not really... I knew it, but only because I felt it. Apparently I was on the mark somehow," I'cas shrugged and smiled back at Calla.

The weyrling looked at her hands and then back up to Marseth; his hide nearly glittering in the light, and the handsome ring of white around his neck looked like some sort of necklace. "So... it's not that he doesn't want me?"

I'cas laughed loudly. "When did he ever say or imply that?"

"I just thought... he was keeping his mind from mine."

"Granted, he's a different character to Touth – when Touth couldn't get through to me, he just walked everywhere holding onto my shirt. Marseth just doesn't know what to do either."

"Then what do I do? How did you get through to Touth?" Calla's eyes begged I'cas for an answer that he just couldn't give her.

"I don't know, it just happened. Honestly, there are still moments when the bond is weak and Touth vanishes momentarily – leaving me chasing after him with an empty feeling eating away at me. But he always comes back, sooner or later."

"So... it doesn't stop?" she asked, only to receive a solemn shake of the head from I'cas. "I guess... we're the only riders who know what it's like to lose a dragon... without even losing him."

Beside her, I'cas grew slightly rigid – and seemed to ponder saying a thought out loud for a moment. "Not... exactly... but yes; other riders can't understand the trials of bonding to a Silver."

Across from them, the two dragons had seemed to settle down and were now head to head – possibly in some sort of deep discussion. Every now and then, Marseth's eyes would flicker over to Calla; she wondered if Touth was giving Marseth help, like I'cas was with her.

"All the outcasts have obvious differences from 'normal' dragons. Yellows are strangely small, Prisms 'grow into' their colour; but Silvers have more mental differences. Our bonds are fragile, yes, but that means our dragons may fly where they please without us. We've just got to learn to deal with it." I'cas stood up at the exact same time Touth did, and both the Silvers began moving towards their riders.

"People don't know about this, do they?" Calla asked, pushing herself to her feet.

"No, I didn't know if it was a good idea to tell. For one, I didn't know if it was just Touth and I. But now I know it's Silvers in general, I don't want to give others a reason to hate us even more."

Touth's large head nudged his rider's side, and I'cas began to slip his riding gloves back on.

"Now, I'm off for a little stretch," He looked back at Calla with a pointed finger. "If you have any problems or worries, you come straight to me, you hear?"

Calla nodded, and watched I'cas as he mounted Touth, the dragon spread his wings and shook them as if to check they were all in working order. Meanwhile, Marseth padded over to Calla's side and sat beside her – so close that they were touching.

"What about Blacks?" she found herself asking. .

Once again, I'cas grew stiff and his uncomfortable eyes glanced at the weyrling.

"You mentioned Yellows, Prisms and Silvers have their differences, so what about Blacks?"

"Yes... they have their... differences. But I'm no Black rider, it's not my place to say."

With that, Touth darted into the sky, leaving behind nothing but a small breeze as Calla and Marseth watched them go. Once the Weyrsecond and his dragon were nothing more than part of the clouds, Calla found herself looking down at her silver with different eyes than before.

"Want to go on a walk?" she asked, feeling a small smile rising to her lips – all her previous worries had gone; granted, they were replaced by new ones, but at least she knew that she would be able to deal with them. Now, it was time to stop crying about how far away she felt from Marseth, and focus on growing closer – humans didn't need a bond to become close, so maybe that what she and Marseth needed to do first.

Walk... now... don't... came the broken reply. Almost as if he knew he hadn't gotten through to her, Marseth snarled and smacked his tail against the ground in frustration.

The two headed off – not with a particular destination in mind, but heading towards the outskirts of Tennar Weyr. When they'd passed the Corral, they knew that they had to stop – any further and they'd be out of the Weyr and in deep trouble. The Weyrlingmaster was strict; she wanted to know where everyone was so she could keep an eye on them – since they hadn't asked her permission to leave, she wouldn't be happy if she found out they had.

C...LA!

The sudden fuzzy voice in her head drew her attention to her dragon. His back tense and his teeth bared – growling at something in the dense trees across from them. Panic rose in her throat; Marseth may have a short temper that brought this sort of reaction on often, but she knew this was different. Her skin was crawling and even the air seemed wrong.

... look for...

Marseth raced off towards the trees, leaving Calla to sprint after him. The dragon seemed to be in such a state that he couldn't run properly, often tripping over loose stones and stumbling to the side. It was almost easy for the weak girl to keep up with him. They broke into the trees, but still continued. Further and further, deeper and deeper, until...

" – far we have to go? This is getting ridiculous."

Both dragon and rider skidded to a halt; terrified by the stranger's voice that they didn't recognise. Marseth stepped in front of Calla – ready to become a barrier between her and any danger that approached.

And the voice was certainly approaching, though it seemed to be talking to itself.

"Please! Do you even know if you're going the right way?"

Calla's knees buckled with fear. She reached out and grasped a hold of Marseth. The dragon curled round her until she was able to hug his neck. There was something very wrong with the air, and it chilled their bones.

"Well it's not like we can stop and ask directions..."

The trees ahead of them started to make way for a shadow. Tall and thin, pushing through the foliage around. Finally, the last of the branches parted.

The boy who stepped through looked about as shocked to see Calla as she was to see him. She didn't recognise him from the Weyr or any nearby cotholds, and he seemed more amazed than anything else at the situation.

"Um... hi?" he said, running a hand through his dark hair – pushing it back from falling in front of his eyes.

"Hi..." Calla squeaked.

The boy's eyes moved down to the dragon in her arms and widened.

"Silver... Heh! What do y'know! We are near Tennar, after all," he laughed, turning round as if to look for someone. Realising he was alone, his eyes narrowed. "Oi! You better not be going shy on me."

From behind a particularly large tree trunk, a dark head poked out – eyes whirling a paler green then usual as they took in Calla and Marseth.

"The... Black hatchling?"