R1: Lesson 4

[Ruby]

It was Rotation One's final lesson, and Kemma's first batch of graduates! The Greenrider had had to physically force herself to keep from decorating the room in excitement. She actually had some decorations in a drawer in her desk, products of recent spare time. However, the desk wasn't where it was supposed to be. It was pushed far to one side of the room, along with all the others. In its rightful place was Mellith, fully excited about today's lesson. Kemma, leaning against her Green's side, could feel her enourmous heart beating miles a minute. In fact, the Candidatemaster was bouncing slightly, Mellith's heart was beating so hard.

Down to three, though. Kemma was intensly, fiercely proud of Meira's impression to Meisk, the only one from rotation one to stand for Whers and impress. On top of Meira's impression, Raen had dropped the class, for now. That left Raila, Zolten, and Mutasim. All three were qualified to be great riders, Kemma believed... but whatever her beliefs, Impression wasn't for everyone. Now it was up to the Dragonets- she'd done all she could. It was time for them to graduate.

[reqqy]

He really was in no mood for lessons. Mutasim wasted time by carefully going over each and every strap that crossed his chest, making sure that all the buckles held firm with short, brisk tugs. Sitting on his bunk, he also examined each blade for knicks, even though he'd shined and sharpened every single one the night before. His dress was immaculate, though it had little to do with lessons. He'd been unable to sleep. That meant there wasn't a single speck of dirt or strand of hair or wrinkle in the pure black clothing hugging his small frame. The boy sighed. There really wasn't any other reason to delay. Muta wriggled his bare toes and stared at them contemplatively. No boots. His feet had grown a good couple of sizes in the last months, and he had nothing that would fit them. More bothersome still, his pants seemed...a tad short. And his sleeves. He didn't quite have the same stunning accuracy of before, and it irked. Mutasim didn't really want to be growing, as it threw everything off, but...what exactly could he do about it?

Clearly, he was growing.

The young man stood, clicking his tongue lightly. Jabari settled his claws into the straps that crossed the boy's chest with a flurry of wingstrokes. Snatching up the white trench - also ridiculously clean after a night of sleeplessness - Mutasim drew it on, thinking he probably looked even stranger now with the fading scar on his forehead. Not that it mattered. Jabari crooned softly, snuggling up against his humanpet.

Lessons were better than thinking about the dreams. The blood and the screams. The cruel joy that came with the warm liquid washing his arms. Had he laughed? In his dreams he did. Laughed forever, until it sounded manic, almost pained. Mutasim tried to shake it off, taking the steps at a sedate pace. The boy slunk across the hall, his normal economy of motion thrown off a bit by longer strides that didn't quite feel right. Then the candidate slipped in through the door, spotting Mellith and coming to a wary halt, his dark eyes coursing over the dragon with just a touch of apprehension. What was the candidatemaster up to this time?

Resisting the urge to draw blade, he offered the greenpair a dark, searching smile that was purely predatory - the sort of smile that had come to be used as another layer of defense. If it unnerved people...so much the better. He paced forward a few steps, then halted, hands resting lightly on his hips. "First again," he commented, for something to say, since the silence seemed...not to fit. His foot had healed well enough under Savitri's watchful eye, and he didn't much care what anyone believed about the circumstances surrounding his injuries.

Now they just had to wait for Raila and Zolten. Joy. Zolten wasn't so bad, but...oh well. Mutasim's mind briefly flitted to thoughts of Fi. Well, more precisely, her chest and her begging during the Goldflight. He forced his mind back to the matter at hand.

[Ruby]

Raila
Raila was on time, for once. It was her last lesson, and to tell the truth, she was excited. How could she not be? First, she was almost done having to take these stupid things forever, and second, she wouldn't have to be shut up with Mutasim for hours ever again. Unless, Faranth forbid, they both Impressed and ended up in the same Weyrling class, but even then Weyrling classes were much larger than Candidate classes. He could be avoided. It was much harder when they were down to... well, three. She was happy for Meira, but unfortunately it meant that there as one less person between her and Him.

Still excited, despite her unpleasent thoughts, Raila practically bounced into the classroom, flashing a brilliant smile at Kemma. "Hello, Candidatemaster, Mellith," she said brightly, blissfully unaware that she sounded like a total suck-up. Whatever, Mutasim- already present, Raila noted with disdain- could think whatever he wanted about her. After today, she never had to pay one scrap of attention to him again.

Her eyes narrowed as she realized that the desks were pushed away, though- there was no way to keep herself away from the small dark boy. Noting with pleasure that his usually perfect appearance looked a little... well, shrunken today, Raila took a place where there usually would have been a desk, several seats-width away from Mutasim. Then she turned her attention back to Mellith, wondering what the Green was doing in the classroom. Odd, that- Raila had thought they were just graduating, not having a true lesson today.

[reqqy]

Of course it was Raila who arrived first, with Zolten nowhere in sight. Was the other boy not even going to show up? Although…he couldn’t really blame him, given the way Raila seemed to like to hang all over Zolten. In his position, Mutasim might very well choose to skip, too. Actually, if he hadn’t been concerned about the possibility of returning to the north if he wasn’t Standing, the Bitran wouldn’t be attending any of these lessons. Fifth time’s the charm? Yeah right. If the problem lay in the amount of information he knew, it definitely wasn’t going to be solved with a fifth bout of boredom.

Mutasim set to studying his nails, then calmly drew a knife to flick a speck of dirt out from underneath a thumbnail and trim his cuticles, only pausing as Raila’s words hit his ears. The boy pulled a face. What was with all this formality, anyway? His brown slithered upwards, draping around Muta’s shoulders and trilling quietly at Mellith. The candidate glanced at his bonded, puzzled. Jabari usually reflected his moods. He turned his attention to the green, then mentally shrugged. It probably had more to do with the flit’s growing boldness in relation to dragons in general than any subconscious undercurrent of Mutasim’s.

Perhaps it was the night of relative sleeplessness, or perhaps he was in a rare peevish mood – for Mutasim never deigned to speak to Raila unless she first spoke, and even then his answers were typically brusque. Today, though, he watched her out of the corner of his eye, flicking a sliver of nail in her direction. “You’d think I had the plague. What is it, Raila? Scared? I promise I won’t bite.” He turned his head and bared his teeth in an imitation of a smile that fell quite short. “At least not very hard.” Thus far he hadn’t so much as acknowledged Kemma’s presence, but the woman wasn’t important until she started speaking, as far as he was concerned.

Even then, she was only important insofar as not interrupting her meant the lesson ended earlier rather than later.

[Ruby]

Raila
Raila just gave Mutasim a half-disgusted, half questioning look, as if asking why he was even addressing her at all. What was with him and his stupid knives, anyway? And his antagonism? Didn't he realize that no one REALLY liked him, they only were vaguely nice to him because they were afraid? Whatever, not Raila's problem, and she didn't need to fix him. If he couldn't figure it out for himself, no way he would be fixed, anyway.

Kemma
Kemma smiled back at Mutasim when he entered the room, nodding in acknowledgment that he had done quite a good job of making it to lessons on time. "Thank you for being so prompt, by the way. I really do appreciate it," she replied, still smiling gently, a stark contrast to his dangerous grin. "Looks like your foot healed up well, I see. I'm glad," she went on, really meaning it. Whatever her own suspicions about the dark-clad Candidate might be, Kemma hated it when people were kept from standing for stupid, unnecessary reasons. She nodded at Raila too, when the girl came in, and turned to face Mellith, privately quirking an eyebrow at the exchange- or lack thereof- between the two. She'd know they didn't like each other, and Kemma wouldn't take sides in something so silly, but she'd never seen it so obviously before. Any idea where Zolten is, love? I think those two might tear each other to bits if they don't have anything else to focus on.

He will not join us before you wish to start- Like Raen, he cannot attend at the moment. Begin without him, and he will come if he can, Mellith contributed. She was having such a hard time not speaking to these two... Hers needed to begin, and get this over with! She had already been deprived of three more people to know. Now she wanted to talk to these!

Lesson 4
Kemma smiled and patted Mellith's side, straightening her expression into a more serious face as she turned back to face the Candidates. "Zolten can't make it quite yet, so we'll begin without him. Today's lesson will be quite short- hence the lack of chairs. I have here, for both of you, certificates guaranteeing that you have passed this lesson requirement satisfactorily. They are signed by me, and approved by the Weyrleadership of Selenitas, and by showing this form you are free from Candidate lessons in Selenitas forever, with the exception of future Touchings, of course. You will never have to take this series again. Congratulations! You may come up and get them at the end of the lesson today.

"Now that your lessons are over, your lives as Candidates have changed slightly. Instead of Lessons, you will now attend Electives- training similar to that you would receive at a Crafthall, but not nearly so in-depth. You will be paired with a Crafter in the field, who will train you on the basics. Available electives are: Dragonhealing, Weyrharper, Archivist, Tanning, Construction, and Water Energy. Eventually I may begin recommending people for Rider's Apprentice, but since you all are the first group who is entering this system, I'm having you go into an elective first.

"So... come up one at a time and retrieve your certificate, and let me know three things: If you have any prior craft training, how long you have been a Candidate, and which electives are your top two choices. Keep an eye on the announcement board in the main room- that will have your elective assignments posted in a week or two. After that, Mellith has volunteered to meet you both, and to let you mount her. I can also fly either or both of you between if you've never been, or if you've never flown. She'll breathe fire for you, too, if either of you are interested. So I guess that's thing number four- if you want to stick around and play with Mel or ask any final questions you're welcome to, otherwise you may go."

[reqqy]

Mutasim had only grunted in acknowledgment to Kemma. She made it sound as if he were looking for praise or notice, when all he'd inended was to break the uncomfortable silence. "Me, too," he muttered. Staying offf the foot for the past month had been overwhelmingly inconvenient and frustrating. Almost as inconvenient and frustrating as being in the same room with Raila. Where was Zolten when you needed him?

He couldn't quite hide the flicker of dismay behind his eyes when Kemma said Zolten wouldn't be here for awhile, his faze flicking momentarily to Raila as he slid the drawn dagger back into its sheath noiselessly. Jabari resettled himself, the brown humming quietly at Mellith. Then he flew over to land on her snout and chattered sociably at her, ignoring Muta's glare. The firelizard was forgotten, however, the moment Kemma's words struck home. No more lessons ever? That improved Mutasim's mood considerably.

A glance at Raila mad it clear that she had no intention of going first. Mutasim lifted a shoulder in a shrug and stepped forward. He lifted his chin slightly in defiance of the judgment from Raila that he could almost physically feel beating against his back. "Sorry about the pest." Mutasim nodded to Jabari. "He's insufferably bold lately. I have no craft experience." Not formally, though he wasn't bad with wood, which shouldn't be at all surprising given his penchant for knives. It actually took him a moment to tally the time he'd spent here. "Four hatchings, so...roughly two-and-a-half turns?" That almost seemed obscenely long, but he refused to be ashamed of it. As for the electives...Mutasim had no idea. Woodcraft would have been the obvious choice. Well, his reading and writing abilities were still ridiculously subpar, so that left the three that didn't involve such activities.

That was fine by him, actually; he preferred to be working with his hands.

"I guess I'd prefer Tanning or Construction, if possible." There was a mild touch of eagerness in his tone. If he could learn a bit of a craft, maybe he could stay regardless of whether or not he Impressed. Glancing back at Raila, he seriously considered just leaving, but then his jaw set. Why should her presence have any effect on what he did? Mutasim was curious, and this may be his only chance. Besides, Jabari was still cuddling up to Mellith. "I'll stay," he added, quietly, stepping aside with certificate in hand.