Sesha I - An Abandoned Concept, Part 1

It was nearing noon, just at that oh-so critical point in the day when the air would begin to warm as the sun reached its zenith overhead. The sky, deep unfragmented blue, seemed untroubled by anything that could possibly be going on anywhere in the world. One would hardly think that there was so much going on outside of the meadow where a lone young man and his runnerbeast were.

Cherasesha had gone out for the day, with the explanation of needing to replenish several of the bottles on the infirmary shelves, more especially before the slow shifting of the temperature did away with certain species until the next season. It was true, for the most part. The fact that getting out of the Hall got him away from the iron grip of his Mother was something that he had decided not to mention. He needed the break, and even with his good excuse, she had been adverse to it. Therefore, he had had to slip out past the escort she had decided to send along with him.

He knew where to look for what he needed. Taking his runner, his supplies and his bow and arrow 'just in case' he had left several hours ago and had traveled farther than needed in order to garner the common plant life. The lands only a couple of miles from the Hall held most of what he was looking for, but he had passed them by, much to the questioning of Ven, his runner. The beast stopped complaining, however, when he had loosed the rein and sent him into a long wild gallop across the flat country finally letting the beast use all of his power, which was so rarely allowed. It had been absolutely glorious. The wind whipping all around them and the ground falling away under them so that it hardly mattered any longer. He trusted his runner implicitly and so, when he closed his eyes and let Ven choose his own path, he could have sworn that he was flying.

The illusion ended soon enough, however, and he finally found a place to stop. Giving his runner rest he took to the ground to gather up the herbs, roots, vines, and flowers that would be taken back to the Hall and eventually used to heal the wounded. Taking his time, and working with skill borne from long experience, his hands were soon stained a myriad of colors from the plant juices, as was the blade of his small knife. Morning was ending by then, and he could feel his stomach rumbling. Gathering up his things he returned them all to the special containers carried in his runners saddlebags and cleaned off his knife and his hands with some water. Lunch, was a simple affair, just some dried fruit a little bread and some water, well enough to satisfy him. It was not as if the gathering had been particularly physically draining.

While Ven moved around nearby, lazily cropping grass Cherasesha laid back on the ground, gazing up at the sky. A gentle wind blew past him and he was reminded of the feeling he had when on the back of his runner, flying. Though he loved Ven his thoughts turned, inexorably, to dragons. How it must feel to be on the back of one as it moved through the sky... He had seen them a few times and he had found them terribly fascinating and after that first time he had searched through the Hall's library for books on them. Unfortunately, outside of the healing of the animals, there were little. He remembered when the riders had come to the Hall, but had been turned away by his Mother. She would not allow them to search for candidates among the youth and it had made him sad, in more ways than one. Not just for the others, but for himself as well. Secretly, he had wished to go along. But his Mother would never allow it and he knew he had more important things to think about. Mending bodies and minds was one of the highest and most noble goals one could possibly strive for. He probably wouldn't have made a very good dragonrider anyway...

A soft sigh escaped him and he turned on his side, eyes now filled with the green of the meadow. What if he were to simply take off on Ven and just ride out to somewhere and never go back again? But he knew very well that was out of the question. His steps would always lead him back to the Hall. After all, it was his home. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off into a light sleep, dragons dancing behind his eyes.

---

He was woken by a gentle nudging against his face and upon opening his eyes he found his runner snuffling close to him, probably tired of watching him sleep. He sat up, looking skyward to judge the time. It was well past mid-day now and he needed to get back before his Mother had a fit. Well, it was probably a bit too late for that now. The ride back was far slower than the one there, letting Ven take most of the control, as he lost himself in thought.

When he became close to the Hall the sound of another runner approaching broke him out of his revere and he looked up to see a young woman with honey blonde hair and sharp green eyes, looking a bit stern-faced. She must have been a few years older than he was. He gave a deferential nod as she drew up to his side to follow him.

"Mother is frantic." Her voice was soft when she spoke, though it held a gentle command of its own.

"I am sorry Lyn... I lost track of time."

Her face softened at that and she smiled over at him.

"Why does that not surprise me? You always did have your head up in the clouds." She teased. He and his older sister, Saralynne, could not have looked more different but more than most siblings, they understood and supported each other. She suffered from their Mother just as he did and when they were younger they had often escaped to find the hidden places in the Hall to play and relax. Things had changed recently though, his sister coming of age had meant that her duties had been increased and there was little time now for them to talk as they used to.

They rode awhile in silence and in the distance he could see other runners and their riders turn their paths back towards the Hall after catching sight of the pair. So, his Mother had sent people out looking for him. A frown touched his lips. When would she ever let him go?

"There is news." He blinked as his sister spoke and he canted his head to the side a little so he might look better at her. She went on.

"One of the Weyrs has contacted us, seeking a healer for one of their dragons." He was instantly at attention.

"And Mother agreed to see them?"

"Yes. She hates them, but even she must offer aid to those in need of our skills. You know that. She won't go herself though, she's sending Father." He was veritably squirming in his saddle now, all sorts of plans forming in his mind. Over the years his Mother's dominance had slowly worn his father down and so he was much more forgiving of the two of them. Maybe, just maybe, he could talk him into letting him come along.

"She won't let you, you know." His sister broke his thoughts, almost as if she could read just what was going on inside.

"I am sure Father will. Think, it would be great experience for me." He could at least use that as an excuse.

"And its not just so you can see the dragons again?" She asked, though she knew the answer.

"Of course not!" He drew himself up and gave her an indignant look that faded after a few moments. "Well... maybe that is part of it..."

They had reached the Hall by now and the building seemed to loom over him like a great shadow and he pulled his runner to a stop. He knew what waited inside for him and he was not looking forward to it. A soft sigh escaped him and he slumped a bit in the saddle.

"Things will turn out right Sesh, you'll see." She gave him one of her soft smiles; the ones that he had seen so rarely as of late and it drew one from himself. He plucked up his confidence and started off again, ready for the railing he was going to get.

But, despite it all, there was hope for him now. A hope of dragons.