Jeriacor Trivail's Story: Second Place

"You'll be careful, won't you?"

"Of course I will, 'Trina."

"Really careful? I mean, when I think of what could have happened to Rowan...."

Jeriacor rolled his eyes. "This isn't that kind of clutch, 'Trina. Really. I'll be fine. I won't even be long... take care of Mother and Abrille, for me."

"I will. I'll miss you!"

Jeri couldn't help but smile when his sister threw her arms around him, and he returned her embrace warmly. "I'll miss you, too... with any luck, this thing will hatch in the next day or two, and I'll come home."

"With a dragon!" Altrina sighed.

"Hopefully. I'd better go, he's waiting."

"Go, then. You don't want to keep Tavarez waiting."

Jeriacor left his sister, pack over one shoulder, feeling a little excited and oddly hopeful. He didn't think he would be looking forward to this; it was a means to an end, an equalizing, not an adventure. He didn't care about adventure much, anyway. All he ever wanted was a secure future that wasn't too boring or too mundane. Hence, his desire to become a mage, even though he was training to hunt and track-- and enjoyed hunting and tracking, to some extent. That was just such a mundane, simple career; being a mage was much more versatile, and took one to much more interesting places.

Rather like Tavarez: versatile, taking one to interesting places, and definitely not mundane. Too bad Jeriacor could never live up to his example; he couldn't shake the mental image of the Rattai simply floating along between worlds on the power of his charisma alone. He had friends everywhere, and Jeri hardly had friends anywhere.

Well, that was about to change. Hopefully.

"Ah, you're early!" Tavarez exclaimed cheerily as he pushed open the door to the empty dragon-suite. It was oddly dim in the room, and the Rattai was little more than a shadow with twinkling eyes against the murk-- a large shadow, as he appeared to be bundled up in a large fur coat. He appeared to be alone. "Your ride isn't here yet, but I think that's all right. Come in, come in, I have something for you!"

"For me?"

"Yes, indeed. You didn't think I would send you off all alone, now, did you?"

As Jeri approached, Tavarez put a hand into one of his furry coat's many pockets. "Hold out your hands, then," he urged, and Jeri did so, albeit warily. To his surprise, something warm and round dropped into them, and he blinked down at what could only be an egg.

"Your very own flitter!" Tavarez explained proudly. "Or, it will be once it hatches."

Jeri's first thought was to wonder where in the world Tavarez kept getting flitter eggs; his second was that even if he didn't get a dragon, as least he'd have a pet, provided his mother let him keep it. His third was the much less noble thought that, if he did bond a dragon, he'd be equal with Rowan again: bond and pet! "Wow... thank you!"

"Quite welcome, quite!" Tavarez beamed. At least, Jeri thought he'd beamed; his own darkvision wasn't particularly good, and all he caught was a flash of white. However, since he doubted Tavarez would be baring his teeth at him, it was probably a smile.

Before either of them could say more, there was a whooshing of displaced air and the wind of down-beating wings, and suddenly the room was quite a bit more full than it had been. Four paws touched down on the chilly stone floor, and Jeri stepped back hurriedly as a plumed tail brushed his face. "Oh, pardon me," said a smooth baritone from somewhere above him, and he felt something large shift away from him. "I didn't intend to appear quite so close to you. Tavarez, friend, am I late?"

"Not at all, not at all, we're just a bit early. Jeriacor Trivail, this is Begug."

"Uh, hi," Jeri managed, cupping his flit egg close to his chest. In the dim light, he couldn't make out the dragon's color, but it was, for all its size, much smaller than most that he'd seen, with a mane, feathers, and very fluffy feet. It; well, given the voice, Jeri guessed "it" was a "he".

"It is a great pleasure to meet you," Begug replied politely, dipping his head in Jeri's direction. Apparently, he had no trouble at all seeing in the murk.

"Jeri, Begug will be taking you back to the Nidus on Avengaea," Tavarez explained. "He lives there."

"Aren't you coming?"

"Oh, no no. Not yet, anyway. I expect I will be there in time for the hatching, but I have several errands to take care of, first."

"Come, young sir," Begug urged, crouching down. "Capita Chansua is expecting you."

"Capita?"

"It means Searchrider," Begug explained, and Jeriacor finally stepped onto the proffered foreleg and swung up onto the broad shoulders. He wondered, in that moment, how anyone ever managed riding a bigger dragon: his legs felt spread far too wide, as it was!

"Begug knows what to do with you," Tavarez said brightly from the ground, patting the dragon's haunch as he rose. Begug turned his eyes on the Rattai with what could have been reproach: polite reproach, but still definite disapproval. "Sorry, sorry. I keep forgetting. He's a bit touchy about where people pat him."

"I merely prefer not to be treated like a beast of burden and patted on the rump, that is all," Begug defended himself gently. "There is nothing 'touchy' about that."

"True. Well, off you go, then," Tavarez grinned. "I'll be following you soon enough!"

"Hold on, young sir," Begug added, spreading his feathered wings.

"Don't be too long," Jeri called down to Tavarez, a little anxiously at the notion of going to the strange dragonry alone, but Tavarez just waved and backed off a few steps. Begug's wings swept down, his bunched legs springing him into the air, and then the room around them vanished. It was replaced a breath later by morning sun, and they were there.