Candidate Lesson 1

[Avu]

“So I’m thinking that if, like, someone’s brain started to liquefy of boredom in their skull, this is about what it’d feel like,” Ka’aen announced to the empty classroom, peering lazily at the sheaf of papers clasped in one hand. His feet were propped on top of the desk, and he’d wriggled down so that he was barely sitting on the edge of the chair, contemplatively scrunching his mouth to one side, “Oh my fuck, Rhiiseth, what is this, it’s like…ngggh. Why can’t I sleep.” In a fairly impressive display of flexibility (one that would be impossible if Ka’aen consciously attempted it, no doubt) he wound his arms around his knees and plopped his forehead against his legs, sighing, the papers slipping from his fingers to the desk.

Desist, Ka’Mine, came the indulgent response, the shimmering blue dragon on the ‘ledge flicking his wings idly, sprawling in a stretch of sunlight, What foolishness, you humans; what knowledge of true value can be found in ink and quills when sky and sun warms face and hide…can your papers illuminate the day, do your papers glow like a thousand stars…? I think not. His jaws gaped in a yawn, Rhiiseth blinking sleepily under the warmth. I am sure that the little mice will be stirring soon, but so fearful of the felines, they are…

“Extended metaphors, do not comprehend,” Ka’aen replied succinctly, and threw one hand wide, throwing a piece of paper in the process. It drifted down delicately to brush against his nose, Ka’aen staring at it in the vague hope that it might spontaneously combust with the force of his glare. It didn’t work. “Call them and get off your tail, there is no way I’m gonna talk myself to sleep. We can give them pony rides.”

Such pain, Ka’Love, what words lurk in the shadows of my agony… Rhiiseth stretched out, yawning again, tongue unfurling like a banner before he licked his muzzle and flicked his tail to signal the end of his stretch, Pony indeed; what beauty have I but to be a stallion? He flared his wings to demonstrate playfully, before he turned his head, broadcasting a call across the Candidate Barracks—the ones wandering around the Weyr would just have to miss lessons, they had no business being anywhere but the Barracks at seven in the morning, did they now.

Little mouselings, the new day spreads liquid gold, rise and approach, tardiness will make the felines so upset… The sing-song voice was a low croon through the Candidates’ minds, brushing invasively before Rhiiseth withdrew again, privately commenting to Ka’aen, Scurry, mice, run... with such a ripple of dark glee highlighting the words that the bluerider sent a suspicious glance at the dragon.

“What are you planning…”
Innocent until guilty-proven, justice says, what grounds have you to ask?

Alexia
Ashlyn
Caden
Emiliah
Hinsero
Kaius
Mihkal
Mikaze
Mortanyal
Tarian
Vellani

[Ruby]

Caden (up as usual, seriously, the girl barely ever slept) flinched visibly when Rhiiseth's voice entered her brain. Of all the voices she'd heard since Smath's death, that one was most like his, although much smoother than her own dragon's gruff snap. Of course, flinching visibly when you've got a knife sharp enough to cut leather in your hand is not a good idea, usually. She'd sliced the sandal's sole in half, not to mention shaved a bit off her left thumb. Growling slightly, she sopped up the bead or two of blood with a nearby rag, then stretched her hand once or twice. Still missing full mobility. Lucky she was right-handed, she doubted the Wastelanders would let her stand with an injury like that, if they noticed it.

Pulling her shirtsleeve down over the bandage on her upper arm, she considered the dragon's message for a second. Mouselings... sun... felines... what was he talking about? The only thing Caden assumed she'd ever be called for was lessons, though, so that was where she'd go. She scooped everything off the common room table into a bag, then stopped to listen. She could hear a few candidates stirring in the girl's wing, so instead of taking the bag back, she tucked it behind a couch, then whistled for Sel. The green whirled in with a rush of wind, and Caden instructed, "Stay. I don't care what shiny thing you see, you will STAY in my bunk." Once she was confident the green understood, she lifted her forearm to get Sel to take off, then headed for the door. She had lessons to get to, even if she was still shaking, glancing over her shoulder for a glimpse of the Blue she'd never see again.

The new Candidatemaster was given a respectful nod as Caden entered the classroom. Not Emoyan, but she'd known that - he would have sent a salamandyr or come to tell them of the lesson himself. Because she'd never seen him before, Caden figured she should probably identify herself, so he knew which Candidate she was. "Good morning, Candidatemaster. I am Candidate Caden..." She almost added 'of the former Selenitas', but instead simply adjusted her new Wasteland knot. He didn't look too intimidating, but Caden knew well that old Benden Riders were not always as they seemed. As such, she waited to be invited into the room, rather than taking a seat right away. This was his place, not hers, and she knew that.

[Zephyr]

It was too early!

Vellani's brain screamed at her as the dragon's voice boomed in her head, waking her from a restful sleep. At first, the girl didn't lift her head. She only stayed face down in the pillow, listening as her fellow candidates rose around her, obviously equally as irritated at the sudden awakening. Some of them were likely already awake, but the vast majority would have still been asleep, not expecting a dragon to scream in their heads. When she first heard a dragon broadcast on high, she had almost jumped out of her skin. The holder girl wasn't used to hearing things in her head except for her own thoughts, so it had been a rude awakening.

After a second, she grumbled to herself and rose out from beneath her furs. Immediately, she scanned the room, looking for Tarian. She didn't want to give the older candidate any further fodder to seek her out. She wasn't afraid of Tarian, she just didn't want to spend any more time around the girl than was actually necessary.

Relieved that she didn't see her, Vellani stumbled out of bed, letting out a deep yawn. She had to wake up early for chores all the time, but it never got easier to pull herself out of bed. Especially when it was so cozy and safe and warm and amaz…

NO!

She shook her head, unwilling to let herself dwell on the awesomeness of her soft bed for another moment longer. If she did, she might have just crawled back into it and curled into a ball. That was definitely not something she needed on her first day of classes with the new candidate master. Knowing that she hadn’t any time to waste, she got ready quickly, running a brush through her long blonde hair and slipping into some more appropriate but comfortable clothing. With that, she turned and rushed towards the classroom.

There was already someone there when she got there, a boy she didn’t know ( She didn’t see Kaius in the corner. Poor, unobservant little girl ). Ani peered at the boy curiously before passing her attention to Ka’aen, offering him a smile and a brief nod of her head.

“ My name is Vellani.”

Time for the games to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who really slept at this time of the morning? Kaius was usually up by five thirty. He hadn’t really been sleeping well lately, and it helped him a great deal to wake up on his own, that way he didn’t sleep through something important because he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before. When Rhiiseth’s voice echoed throughout the barracks, Kai’s head shot up, hazel eyes narrowing suspiciously. After a second, the boy offered a halfhearted snort at the voice of the dragon. He for one wasn’t too thrilled at the Wastelander’s procurement of the weyr. What? Did they expect that the people of Selenitas would be thrilled about being invaded, taken over, some of them displaced?

For a moment, he seriously thought about staying seated in the char that he was currently sitting at. The last thing he wanted to do was make them think that he supported the takeover. After a minute though, he realized this wasn’t the wisest course of action. Those bastards were in control at the moment. If he didn’t show up, they could very well kick him out of Selenitas. While that seemed like an attractive option to potentially stick it to those flitter brained dimglows…he knew he’d regret it later when he was left homeless and with no chance to find a lifebond…the one reason why he came to the weyr in the first place. So against his better judgment, he was one of the first boys to leave the barracks, ever conscious of the Wastelanders knot he wore. It felt heavy, as if it would cause his movements to cease and make him sink into the earth…but he kept walking, making it to the classroom before long.

There was a boy already in there, but Kaius didn’t pay him much mind. Instead, he eyed Ka’aen, his expression unreadable. Of course he was fighting the urge to tell the older man to shove between and go chase himself, but the other one wouldn’t have seen this exchange run through Kaius’ mind. Instead, he leaned against the wall, arms folded against his chest. Silently, he watched his new candidate master, his gaze smoldering.

Why am I even here?

Not so deep down, he knew exactly why.

[Kisha-Ra]

Mort was, naturally, awake. Anyone who slept past the first rays of dawn was clearly missing the best part of the day, and Mortanyal was not about to be included in that number. How could anyone want to miss the colour of the clouds at sunrise, or the delightful little songs the smallest and drabbest of the southern avians came up with to greet the sun?

Aside from all the other wonderful things about the first hours of the day, those were rapidly becoming the only hours when he even saw his firelizard. Ghost demanded very little of him really, just food and oiling, his adoration and devotion she didn’t need to ask for, Mort gave those freely. Although the quirks of the gold’s behaviour did disappoint him (he wouldn’t have minded carrying Ghost around on his shoulder all day every day, and even had some new outfits in mind that would go perfectly with her colours) he was coming to understand that Ghost didn’t want to be the centre of attention constantly.

Currently though, said firelizard was the centre of Mort’s attention, mostly because she had turned up for food and grooming. The boy’s eyes half closed with concentration as he made sure every part of his bony little gold was oiled into a smooth even shine. It was a shame she wasn’t putting on any weight, no matter how much Mort fed her Ghost still looked like a skeleton with gold hide, he really couldn’t think where it was all going, sure she was bigger but not all that much bigger.

A lesson? Mort cocked his head to one side, he assumed that was what the strange, riddling, dragon voice meant anyway. The descriptions seemed… ominous, the implication that candidates were prey and their teacher a hunter was not lost on Mort. What did they mean to do then? They seemed to have taken over the Weyr as a working operation, queen included, and that meant that they needed candidates to be the next generation of riders for them and their war. Maybe they wanted only the candidates they chose. He’d better be a bit quieter than normal. They’d probably want one of their own to Impress the next queen so they wouldn’t need to rely on a Selenitas gold. If controlling the place was goal a queen would help these wasteland riders immensely, they might even be able to do away with Millieth. All of these things clearly meant that Mort should pretend he had no interest in Impressing a queen for himself.

With that decided Mort lifted Ghost out of his lap and slid off his bunk, how fortunate that his hair was already done and he need only change and run a brush through the loose part. What colours? Mort considered for a moment before picking up an amber coloured shirt and a black pair of trousers. Perfect, it would go so well with those tiger eye beads of he could find them. There was a brief clatter of stone, metal, and shell as Mort hunted for the beads he wanted. There! Did he look good or did he look good? Yes he did, the boy assured himself as he pulled the two thin braids at the front of his hair forward over his shoulders and ran the brush quickly through the rest. With that Mort trotted off out of the door, sure that Ghost could, and indeed would, take care of herself for the rest of the day.

The classroom was still practically deserted, only three other candidates in there, and the candidate master/hunter of course. Mort examined the man as thoroughly as possible from the corner of eye while he found a seat.

[heisokufire9]

Ashlyn moaned when the blue's voice sang through her mind. It was way to early to be woken up! The dark haired teen sat up rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with a sigh. She may have been tempted to cause whoever had woken her some pain but since it was their new candidate master she was going to keep her mouth shut for the moment. She may not retaliate yet but that didn't mean she had to like it. She knew the new teacher was one of the ones from the weyr who had taken over Selinitas. She got dressed and made her way to the classroom still only half awake.

I should have gotten some klah. she thought as she went in, noticing she wasn't the first to arrive but not the last. She gave their new teacher a polite bow but the coldness in her blue eyes was anything but polite. Her voice when she spoke was neutral and flat albeit a little sleepy.

"I'm candidate Ashalyn." she said, straightening and then went to take a seat. She wasn't up for chatting this early and especially not with the enemy. The girl might have respected him if his weyr hadn't taken over hers and disrupted her life. Ash hadn't wanted any part in the war but it appeared as if she would have to take a part whether she liked it or not. She sat down and waited for the lesson to begin.

[Avu]

One mouse two mice, three four mice, five, the song purred through the mind of the Candidates as they entered the room, Rhiiseth stretching on the weyrledge, Such sweet sorrow, what inspired terror in the others that they linger in smoke and ghosts? Surely not we who silence suffer… The slow, liquid drawl was not kept from any of the people in the room; Rhiiseth was not at all shy about bespeaking humans. He liked it, even, and it amused him terribly whenever someone was surprised at his mental touch. Polite mice but oh, so terribly rude, the next, named by face alone.

Amusement lurked in the shadows of his voice, the blue spreading gleaming wings, privately commenting to Ka’aen, What stubbornness in their eyes, Ka’Love; the fragility of hope quivers with every breath…lovely devastation we have wreaked, but the strain comes not in destruction but in reshaping.

Feel bad for Ba’sun, at least we start earlier, Ka’aen replied, sitting up straighter in the desk and pressing his fingertips together formally. He nodded at the Candidates, ignoring any dark glares in favor of letting a pleasant smile cross his face. “Why don’t you all sit,” and even though it was phrased as a question, his tone was that of a statement, quiet, assured, “I’m sorry if Rhiiseth woke you, but the earlier we start Lessons the earlier we finish, so.” A shrug, the man turning to the blue and quirking an eyebrow, “There’s an entire lesson plan written here but honestly, lecturing has never really struck me as being much fun.”

Rhiiseth twisted on the weyrledge to peer in, tongue flicking out as to taste the air, jaws gaping open in a macabre mimicry of a smile, Words are but whispers on the wind of actions, such lies in each murmur when our world is ever-changing. Again on a broadcast to the class—the blue’s teeth clicked shut, lips pulled back for a moment longer, eyes whirling in quick, dark amusement.

“So I’ll just sum it up. The Senior Weyrwoman is Kaegan of Millieth.” Ka’aen didn’t add that her power was probably about nil currently, given her surrender. It was pretty much common knowledge, he figured. “The Acting Weyrleader, until Millieth Rises, is Ja’kin of Demotaeth.” He also didn’t say that Demotaeth would almost definitely be Catching Millieth—it was between Demotaeth and Kierjaarth, and a few other browns, after all. “Remember their names, learn to recognize them. Let’s see…on Candidacy. Basically, I think what this lesson’s saying is that everyone ranks you, but that is seriously some depressing shit…just be respectful, do chores properly and don’t skip lessons.”

His fingers tapped against the desk, “You’re expected not to mouth off. If you do, then the consequences are all your own. On a similar note, I am Candidatemaster, but I’m not going to be responsible for any crap you or any of the other Candidates who didn’t see fit to show up decide to pull. You’ll want to stay away from Rider Weyrs, figure that once you Impress you’ll probably cover Flights in more detail so, if there are no questions, head on out to the weyrledge. Rhii’s friendly.”

Ka’aen shifted to his feet, dropping the paper carelessly onto the desk, was this information really supposed to take up a half-hour lesson? “Caden, you interested in flying?” He—she? Ka’aen couldn’t really tell—had been there first, had even been polite giving a name—which was more than the boys and the last girl had done. Never let it be said that Ka’aen was not fair in his own logic.

Be not afraid, little mouse, Rhiiseth coaxed, voice sliding like silk across Caden’s mind, but he didn’t bother excluding the other Candidates. Can carry you through quicksilver dreams, thrills of fantasy…weightless, beautiful.

[Ruby]

Did she... want to fly?

The question nearly brought tears to her eyes, so she ducked her head, sliding her eyes sideways to inspect Ashlyn's shoes. Caden had chosen a seat next to the girl, even offering the barest hint of a smile as she took her place. Nabrik had been her first choice, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. Some miniscule, maternal part of Caden cringed at that, hoping he was just late or truant rather than exiled. Poor kid... although if she read the boy right at all, this was more likely to be an exciting adventure than anything else. Good kid.

It was rude to let a question go unanswered, though, especially from a dragon. Not quite trusting herself to speak, Caden simply nodded in Ka'aen's direction, gently pushing a thought towards Rhiiseth's mental voice the way she used to push ideas towards Smath: I know you can. She didn't know if he heard, of if that kind of communication was even possible, but she liked imagining that it was. Either way, she slid sideways out of her chair and headed for the ledge, swallowing hard when she caught sight of the blue. Not like Smath, much, but the so-called Rhii had a smiliar bigness, a similar shade as the very base of his hide. More purple-blue than green-blue, but... well, enough. Enough.

Shivering, she didn't waste any time once she reached the ledge. She placed a hand on Rhiiseth's side to warn him, then, without thinking, swung aboard with the practiced climb of a Rider rather than the tentativeness expected of a Candidate of any description. If she'd been supposed to wait for Ka'aen, she hadn't noticed, and her seat on the Blue was comfortable and assured. It would be clear to anyone that she didn't need the Candidatemaster to help her keep her seat. But then she ran into a problem.

Smath had always known where she wanted to go. "Um... I'm ready?"

[Kisha-Ra]

Mort understood, in general terms, that dragons normally didn’t speak to anyone but their riders. He really wished someone had bothered to inform the hunter’s dragon of that, the lazy drawl was starting to get irritating. Weren’t there enough humans to mock him without strange invader dragons joining in as well?

Since he was only a child, at least in his own world view and never mind that his father thought him old enough to work for a living, Mort decided he could get away with openly staring at the hunter-rider. He managed to look friendly enough, and sound self assured, and Mort for one was certainly glad the Know Your Place speech was to be dispensed of.

Mort was fairly new to Weyr life, but he thought he could figure out this speech. He wasn’t as entirely unobservant as he often seemed, and it could harldy escape the fact that the only metallic hides around these days were Millieth’s, the wasteland bronze, and only one of Selenitas bronzes, they’d probably kept the one with the fat rider because they thought the dragon would move like a fat man and therefore be no challenge for their bronze. Hadn’t he heard once that sometimes humans could influence dragon Flights? He thought it actually meant the riders involved but there couldn’t be any harm in lending his silent support to the other bronze could there? He’d better actually find out that dragon’s name…

Apparently while he’d been considering all this the lesson had ended, which wasn’t actually all that great since it was supposed to take around ten times longer than this. Would they have to sit around for the rest of the time, and if they did what message would he carve on the desk and where?

Mort graced their hunter/teacher with another stare, one that probably made him look not quite bright, trying to work out whether something awful was going to happen if he took up the invitation to step outside for whatever reason it was they were actually going out there. Once again his unfailing belief in the intrinsic goodness of dragonkind prevailed. There must just be something strange about the wasteland dragons, he decided, look at how Ekarth had behaved at that firelizard hatching. Maybe this Rhii was a clutch sibling of that blue and also not particularly connected to reality, he certainly didn’t sound like he was.

Somehow though Mort was not quite as eager as Caden to meet this dragon, and he doubted he would be even if he’d been the one offered a ride. Maybe Darya had rubbed off on him slightly, as unpleasant as that prospect was.

[kat]

Alex didn't give a damn about who was teaching the lessons. Sure it rankled her that some opposing Northerners had taken over so soon after she'd come here. Sure it sucked because a large number of dragons and riders had fled and left her and many others behind. What stank most was that the Junior Weyrwoman had taken off, one of the golds was dead, and only one gold remained to lay clutches. That's what pissed her off. She wanted as many chances at Impressing as she could get. Now her chances were one third of what they had been. Sharding Northerners. It was with this in mind that she responded to the blue's call. It was her first lesson and she intended to do her best no matter who taught it.

When she arrived there were already a few others there. She figured it couldn't kill to treat this rider as she would have treated the Selenitas one. So, walking over to him with no inhibitions, she nodded her head curtly and then said, "Candidate Alex, reporting in, Sir." She noted Caden and offered the girl a slight smirk, but then she took up her place along with the rest of those who'd shown up. Would any not show? She wouldn't be surprised. She hadn't been here long enough to know anyone but who was here, now. Ashlyn, Caden and...where was Nabrik? She had been interested in him and his little Alph. Hopefully he wasn't one of them that had fled. But chances were good that it was a possibility. Pity.

She listened to the blue and wondered if he was wrong in the head. She hardly understood what he was getting at unless she took everything he said metaphorically. Shells did it have to get more complicated? Now she's really have to listen or there was no way she could comprehend what the blue was going on about. However it was perfectly clear that their new Candidatemaster expected them to...ride? Hells yeah! That sounded like something unexpected and awesome. She glanced over at Caden, who had been singled out to go first. And there was no way on Pern she could have missed how easily Caden mounted up. Well, what did she really know about Caden? Not much. They'd chatted briefly a few times. Very briefly. Maybe she was some rider's daughter? She must have grown up in a Weyr, the way she got a-dragonback with ease. Well, she was great at learning by example. She figured that while it might not be as smooth she could mount up without much trouble.

The creepy-ish blue looked like it was addressing Caden. They always got this...look on their face. Kind of almost spaced out or concentrated. But the look on Caden's face confused her. She looked...like she was at home. Her curiosity rose a notch. Maybe she'd invite Caden to the dining hall for dinner. She really didn't know much about her. And she'd decided Caden was a girl. Only once again she wasn't one hundred percent sure...

xXx

Mihkal hardly wanted to go. Only he was a candidate. Other candidates were going. Should he? Wasn't it kind of traitorous to attend lessons taught by one of the riders who had taken over the Weyr? Only the other riders had fled...and where did that leave him? Still a candidate.

He sighed heavily as the blue's voice came into his head. He assumed it was calling them to lessons even though it sounded like it spoke in riddles. He got up slowly and looked around the barracks once more. Yeah. Others were going. Maybe he should, too. He wanted to Impress. T'lor was here still, because he hadn't left without him. Even if he could have he wouldn't have. That had to stand for something. He knew how his cousin felt about these Northerners. It wasn't particularly in a friendly light. At all.

Mihkal was glad to see he wasn't the first here. Normally quiet he wondered if he should give the rider his name or not. He noticed two other girls had done it. But the rest who came in had not. He chewed his lower lip but then decided the rider had to call them something, right? So he took another couple of steps forward, and then said in a voice not quite loud but loud enough to hear, "Mihkal...I'm here I guess."

Why had he added that last part? He sounded dopey. Of course he was here. There was no guessing about it. He cursed his own stupidity on that one for stating the obvious. Way to go, Mihkal. He sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair, looking around at the others. The blue was giving them instructions? What kind of instructions were those? His eyes widened and he glanced around to see if it was only him that was imagining the blue was speaking in riddles. Only he got the gist of it, but shards was the blue playing some kind of game? He watched as Caden mounted up but not too closely. He was letting them ride on his dragon? Did the dragon not mind that? He had been on a dragon a couple of times. It was...interesting. One day that might be his dragon. He didn't even like heights. Not that he was scared or anything. They just didn't sit nicely. Or rather the thought of plummeting through the air and landing with a splat on the ground below didn't sit nicely. Clearing his throat quietly he looked back to Caden and the dragon. He didn't know how to mount up like that. As long as he didn't fall on his ass and make...well...an ass of himself? It should be okay...maybe.

[Ruby]

Hinsero's first thought on being awoken just barely past dawn was that it was a good thing that Lessons were so early, his infirmary shift was only a few hours away. That he was being called to lessons was clear - anyone who had lived at Wasteland Weyr was familiar with Rhiiseth's idle chatter, although Hinsero hadn't expected the Blue to be assigned as their Candidate Master. The second thing he thought was Oh, help me, Great Faranth!

Why? Well, he was one of the few Candidates the Wastelanders had searched before the Siege, and the only one in this candidate rotation, as far as he knew. All of the Selenitas candidates would know eachother already, at least by sight, not to mention that he was old for a candidate, and looked older. Already 21, he would be aging out in just over a year. No matter what, he'd be singled out immediately, alone on two counts. With a sigh, the Candidate slid off his bed, dressing slowly amidst the scuffles of the other boys, trailing out somewhere in the middle of the pack and feeling distinctly like a man. He was sure it was his fate to stand, and either Impress so he could atone for his father's sins, or be left standing to teach him humility. Either way, he was standing till the very end, no matter how out of place he felt. Certainly that was what Great Faranth intended for him.

It wasn't long before he reached the lesson, sliding in next to a boy who'd identified himself as Mihkal with a muttered "Hinsero, sir." The lesson itself was short, of course, something Hinsero had heard before. Really, he'd already taken some of his candidate lesson rotation at Wasteland, but after the move this had been the only option for continuing his education. It was probably good to have a mixed class of Wastelanders and Selenitas - it would speed the assimilation process up considerably - but Sero didn't exactly appreciate being the sacrificial lamb. If anyone looked at him suspiciously, he didn't notice, keeping his eyes fixed on his desk until they were all invited outside. Then he fell in next to Tarian, the one who looked next oldest, watching the boy who'd been called out by the Candidatemaster mount up kind of scarily quickly. A step closer to Tarian, and he muttered under his breath, "He looks like he's done that before, no?"

[Avu]

Rhiiseth shifted sideways on the weyrledge to accommodate the Candidates as Ka’aen waved a hand to indicate all of them should be stepping out towards the blue, not just the young man he’d picked out to go first. He followed them out, intending to let them all get there before he instructed Caden on mounting, but—well, hey. Made his job easier, didn’t it. One eyebrow rose in amused surprise. Not entirely unheard of, though; possible he’d just had a Rider for a father or something (though why any decent parent would want to make a dragonrider out of their kid Ka’aen didn’t know; if he ever had a kid he’d tell the kid he’d be disowned if he ever Impressed, never ever do it because you died). “Nicely done,” he murmured, stepping towards Rhiiseth.

Didn’t mount, though, instead hooking up the primary straps to Caden and sliding one hand affectionately along Rhiiseth’s flank as soon as he’d double-checked them and checked Caden’s hold on the straps for correctness. “You can tell Rhii if you feel comfortable going faster or whatever, he’ll listen,” he told Caden, stepping back. Pivoted to the other Candidates, “I want you to take note of how Caden’s mounted right now. That’s the correct riding posture, that’s what I want you all to look like once you get your seat. I don’t expect you all to be that graceful, and I don’t expect anyone to know how to arrange the straps—that comes in Weyrling training. Take note of how Rhiiseth takes off, too—there’ll be a jolt, expect it.”

Ka’Mine, rumbled in amusement, the blue’s jaws dipping open and closed, eyes slitted, Such confidence…remember the humility of trip and failure, remember the strain of flight and the tears… His tail swished in blatant affection, the tip flicking across Ka’aen’s feet, before Rhiiseth crouched and launched himself off of the ‘ledge, twirling upwards on an elegant wingtip before he coiled into a circle, tipping his wings to follow the draft of the wind demurely. See, what good pony rides he gave…he skimmed lower, twirled idly past the weyrledge, dropped sideways and twisted to almost the ground, dipping further to drag one talon into the river.

“Meanwhile, you and you.” Ka’aen indicated Kaius and Mortanyal, “Why don’t you tell me your names.” He hadn’t called them out at the beginning, even though the simple fact that everyone else had given their names should’ve tipped them off. If they were just being defiant in their silence or something—well, that was their loss; Ka’aen didn’t intend to let them ride Rhiiseth until they were at least minimally polite. And if they were just outright blatantly defiant—well. That they could think on while also dealing with extra chores; he wasn’t the soft old man who’d been Candidatemaster before.

Although—rumor said Emoyan was dragonless. Ka’aen sympathized. Just didn’t think he should’ve had the job in the first place, really. How could you get more depressing—here, old man who’s lost half his soul, why don’t you take care of a bunch of obnoxious kids who’re all up and ready to Impress what you’ve gone and lost?

[Kisha-Ra]

Well what did you know, maybe suspicion was contagious, Mort thought ironically tossing his hair back over his shoulder with a flick of his head as he stepped out onto the ledge, since that seemed to be the indication implicit in the new candidatemaster’s gesture. At least the view was rather good from out here, not terribly impressive since they weren’t all that high up, but pleasant, really just elevated enough to appreciate it without having to worry about breaking his neck if he should fall. Mort shook his head at that last thought, yes you could catch cynicism. There were certain people who should be quarantined right away. Like probably everyone.

Obedient to a reasonable instruction Mort gave Caden a look over, noting how natural the other candidate looked in absent minded sort of way. Practiced maybe? Could he get someone to lend him a dragon to practice sitting on? Was there a dragon somewhere who wouldn’t mind? Well the dragon might be perplexing, not to mention partnered to the hunter and happy to refer to the class as mice, but he was elegant in the air…

‘Hmmm?’ the hunter/master gained Mort’s attention back without getting any enthusiasm from the boy, he was much more interested in the dragon, now the blue wasn’t speaking to him. ‘Oh I don’t know.’ Mort turned a wide eyed, brightly blue, and utterly guileless gaze on the man. ‘I might, but first I think I’d like to know if you’re planning to kill us, because if you are then I don’t think my name’s all that important, do you?’ at that point the boy seemed to realise he’d let his mouth run on a bit too long without any intervention from his brain. Still he felt a bit bolder now that question was out in the open rather than lurking around the back of his brain so rather than try and say anything else to cover it (that never worked anyway) Mort just stood before the hunter, watching carefully, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands, and feeling very much like prey.

[heisokufire9]

Their teacher didn't like lecturing huh? Part of Ashlyn didn't blame him at all on that. Lectures were boring. She nodded a bit at the names of the weyrleaders. The goldrider she knew but the man she didn't. Of course she would remember it, wasn't that the point of being told?

She almost felt sorry for Caden when the fellow candidate was called to be given the first ride but slight jealousy overrode it. Not that the emotion was evident on her face though. She was good at masking her emotions. Ashlyn went with the other candidates to the ledge the candidate master's dragon rested on. The blue shifted to accommodate the group of candidates and Ash's eyes widened a bit in surprise at Caden's smooth mount.

She look likes she's ridden on dragon-back before. the teen thought noting the girl's posture and where she was placing her hands. So that was how one sat when on a dragon. It seemed easy enough but like most skills probably took practice. Ash's eyes followed the blue as he took off. He was as elegant in the air as he was with his words. She glanced at the boys the candidate master had spoken to.

Did the boy want to get killed? Apparently so but that would be his problem, not hers. She was tempted to say something and get him to shut up before he got himself into too much trouble. Her eyes flickered to their teacher for a moment before going back to his dragon and Caden. She idly wondered if she would get the chance to ride.

[archenstone]

Mikaze walked quickly into the classroom. It was obvious that he was later than he should have been. It didn't matter that he had spilled a drink in his room and needed it cleaned up fully before heading to class. Nor did it matter that when he had turned his cup back to the kitchens that he had been swept up in a desperate search for spices misplaced at some point by the drudges. Nope, he knew quite well that he was late and that no excuse could save him.

He hadn't thought about it much while cleaning and searching but as he walked into the classroom to one of the other candidates asking about death he began to feel nervous. He straightened his shoulders and walked calmly towards the group. He looked up at the new candidate master. He was definitely not someone who lived here before the takeover. He kept a carefully arranged expression of respect on his face while looking the man over. He seemed vaguely familiar..... Benden? Mikaze repressed the urge to swallow. Benden riders, regardless of what they called themselves, were involved in this? He tried to think, he didn't steal anything from this rider when he left Benden a few years ago...right?

He blinked nervously, "Good morning Candidate Master. Mikaze, reporting as ordered Sir." He slipped back into the militaristic verbiage he had become accustomed to at Benden. He looked up at the candidate master who was taller by several inches and waited for what would happen next.

[Ruby]

Caden had unconsciously reached for the straps before she realized Ka'aen was ahead of her, clipping her in and showing the Candidates the correct posture. She wasn't listening, wasn't paying attention to any of the candidate who might be staring or looking at her funny - instead, she was totally focused on the blue hide below her, the feel of a dragon's shoulders between her knees. It was totally overwhelming, to come so close regaining something she was so sure she'd lost. If Caden was being honest with herself, she knew she didn't really expect to re-impress - it was just a far-fetched hope, the kind of hope people used every day to put off grief and despair. But now... now she wanted it again, was determined to do whatever it took.

Rhiiseth's launch was smoother than Smath's had been, more of a graceful slide into the air than a violent lurch, although C'den's blue had never been known for his delicacy or agility. Power had been his strong point. As a result, Caden had over-prepared, crouching lower than necessary... and she almost immediately discovered that riding a dragon you were mentally connected to was the polar opposite of riding one you weren't. This was more like riding a wild runner than a more sentient being, and Caden had never been particularly good on the backs of the four-legged beasts. Her composure dissolved quickly and she crouched close to Rhiiseth's neck, tightening her knees and holding on to the straps for dear life. With no anticipation of the Blue's turns, even a lazy spiral threw her off balance. Still, it was totally exhilarating, and she shouted above the wind, "Faster is fine!"

By the time Riiseth turned back to the waiting Candidates, the wing had brought tears to Caden's eyes. It was the wind, really. Still, though, when the Blue landed Caden was quick to dismount, the windswept Candidate taking a few steps over to make room for whoever was next. Surreptitiously, she blotted her eyes with a sleeve, trying to hide everything behind layers of tangled hair while she attempted to sort out her emotions. She was pretty sure only Impression topped this.

---

Hinsero had adopted a half-slumped posture of attentive indifference, hanging to the back of the group of candidates on the ledge. He'd done this all before, and while he knew that at Wasteland his posture wouldn't be tolerated... look at these Selenitas candidates! Late (Mikaze received a very flat look for interrupting the lesson), inattentive, rude. Hinsero's barely contained eye-roll at the still unnamed golden-haired Candidate was the least of Ka'aen's problems, apparently. Was he planning on killing them? "And what would be the point of that?" he asked, only realizing after the words were out that he was not just speaking, but speaking out of turn. Good job, 'sero, way to get on the bad side of every Selenitas Candidate ever.

In an attempt to repair whatever damage he'd already done, Hinsero flicked his gaze in Ka'aen's direction, hoping for tacit approval to speak, or watching for a sign to stop. "What I mean is there's no reason to kill those with the potential for Impression. Divided, there's not enough candidates for Selenitas or Wasteland to field a full clutch. United, we have plenty." There, the message of unity that seemed to be so important to the Weyrleader - see the unified knots, the union of Selenitas' Senior Queen with the Wastelander's Senior Bronze. Ka'aen couldn't object to that, right?