The Warp and Weft (2/2)

Writers: Estelle, Miriah
Date Posted: 18th December 2020

Characters: R'ayl, Wacilla, Shuvan
Description: Furayl speaks to his Master about whether to go to the Weyr
Location: Emerald Falls Hold
Date: month 8, day 18 of Turn 10

Master Shuvan turned away from the window where he'd been watching the
courtyard as the greenrider and her dragon carried out their Search. His
fine boned hands released their angry grip on the window as Furayl left
the dragon and headed towards the building. This was an interesting
development and one that could potentially be used to benefit the plans
in place. The boy was weakling and he'd been making real effort to
appear as a true mentor, stoking his hatred of the Weyr carefully and
delicately while listening to his childish troubles, giving him a
sympathetic ear. The boy trusted him now, implicitly.

This change could be used. Let the other men use blunt savagery, his
methods were careful and precise; revenge was a delicate art, much like
weaving a fine scarf. A slow smile spread on a narrow face. Furayl would
simply be another weft in the cloth that was being carefully woven. A
weakling such as the boy would never Impress, but with a light touch,
he could be guided to greater action. Smoothing his expression, he
turned as the knock sounded at the door. The cultured, melodic voice
that was more expected of a Harper answered. "Come in."

Furayl pushed open the door and slipped into the study, feeling
reassured at once by the sound of the Master Weaver's voice. He'd been
shy and nervous of the older man at first, and still was, a little. The
Master was so impressive, so much more brilliant and wise than he could
ever hope to be. But he'd been the only one to have a kind word for
Furayl since he'd come to the Hall. Surely he'd understand.

"Master Shuvan?" He clasped his hands together. "I'm sorry to disturb
you, but something's happened. There's a dragon..."

"I saw, Furayl." He gestured to the window. "It's always such a buzz
of activity when a Searchdragon arrives. It's hard not to notice." He
waved the young boy closer. "That is a rather pretty green out there
and she certainly seemed to notice you, didn't she?" His voice was
kind. "How wonderful for you."

Furayl approached, and for a moment his young face brightened with a
genuine smile as he caught sight of the green dragon below them. It was
short-lived, though. "It was wonderful, Master. She - I mean the rider -
she said I had potential, that there might be a dragon for me. But I'd
have to go to the Weyr, and I can't, can I?" His thin shoulders slumped.
"Because of what happened to my brother."

A long fingered hand fell on Furayl's shoulder. "Oh, my dear boy, you
certainly should, but not just for Standing on those Sands." Shuvan's
smile was kind, his voice soothing. "What the Weyr did to your family
was of course unforgivable, but sometimes, if you want to change a
thing, you have to work from the _inside_ of it." He gestured to the
large loom in his office, an unfinished tapestry stretched and
half-woven. "It's like a loom, Furayl, with the warp and weft."

He drew Furayl over to loom, guiding him. "Look at the warp, my boy.
How it holds the tapestry steady and provides a base for the art that
follows." He ran his fingers over the stationary strands. "The Weyr is
no different. Any adjustment of the warp, increasing or decreasing
them, and the weft, " he slid his hands over to the shuttle, "must
change along with it. It has no choice." Shuvan's voice was a soft
purr. "I know it's a frightening thought, being a part of that
weaving, but even though you'll be there, I can still guide you in
how to be the warp in the fabric, Furayl, to change the weaving of the
Weyr." He smiled down at the young boy. "Even a small change, a small
boy, a thread like you, can change everything."

The boy reached up, his fingers hovering just above the threads, not
quite daring to touch. The Master's voice was warm, reassuring, but then
his hand stilled and a cold, churning feeling struck to the pit of his
stomach at the thought of being in the Weyr, alone, surrounded by his
family's enemies.

"But what if they find out who I am?" His voice faltered as he imagined
being dragged away, imprisoned in the dark, as Grevan had been. "What if
that dragonrider is there? The one who hurt my father."

"Furayl, you've done nothing to worry yourself over." The voice was
soothing, gently encouraging. "And you don't have to tell them
anything but that you're a weaver apprentice, which is, of course, the
truth. Many people go to the Weyr for many reasons." Shuvan's hands
lightly plucked at the steady threads of the loom, then carefully
moved to press Furayl's fingers to the strands. "The rider will be, my
boy." He crouched, sliding the young boy's fingers slowly over the
strands, his voice soft. "But you're stronger than they think. Look
at what you've already survived. You're a brave, _loyal_ young man
with potential and friends. Friends that will help you be the warp in
the weaving."

He guided Furayl's fingers in plucking lightly at the strands. "That
rider is just another strand in the weaving. I admired your brother,
Furayl. He was brave and dedicated to your family, but he tried to
snip a weaving." he pointed to a cross thread. "A weaving strand can
be replaced, retied easily. It's the warp that must be shifted. As a
Candidate, you'll be protected, but able to watch and learn how the
Weyr works. When it's time, you'll have help. All you have to do is
watch and learn. Every restday, I'll send my Shuttle to you." He
gestured to the small brown firelizard who perched on the loom,
watching them with gently whirling eyes. "Tell me what you've learned
and I'll help you, Furayl. You're my apprentice always and I'll help
you in whatever you need.."

Furayl caught his breath. He'd never been allowed to touch the Master's
loom before. None of the junior apprentices ever had that he'd heard of.
Surely that meant he must be specially favored. And Master Shuvan had
said he was brave. Maybe he could be. Watching and writing back to the
Hall didn't sound so difficult; he was good at watching. He'd be able to
go with the dragon, away from the other boys who'd made his life a
misery, taunted him about his family.

His family, though. "I want to help, Master Shuvan. I want to shift the
warp but... I promised my Mama. I promised that I would never go to the
Weyr."

The voice was gentle, purposefully soothing. "Furayl, I understand your
mother's concern, I truly do. She's lost so much." The hand fell to
Furayl's shoulder while he applied just the right amount of stress and
persuasiveness to his next words. "Think of her and your little sister,
Furayl. You're the _man_of the family now and men have to make the
hard decisions when it comes to their families. Besides, if we can
change the warp and weaving of the Weyr, wouldn't it benefit them? To
know that they'll be better off? Happier?" He bent to a crouch,
bringing himself to Furayl's level. "I'll speak to her myself. I'll
leave early tomorrow and go and visit her. Once I've explained, she'll
understand. I give you my oath on it."

"You would go to my mother's cothold? Really?" Furayl still felt a
twisting sensation of fear and uncertainty when he thought of going to
the Weyr. When he looked into the Master Weaver's kind eyes, though, he
didn't know how to refuse. If Master Shuvan would do that for his
family, surely he could do what had been asked of him. He took a deep
breath. "Thank you, sir. I'll go, and I'll do my best to be a part of
the weaving."

"Of course, I will. " Shuvan felt the flush of satisfaction in his gut.
What Alyena didn't know couldn't hurt her and if she thought the boy was
protected at the Hold, the more likely she'd be to continue to allow
their little meetings. "Good, you're a fine young man, Furayl. Now,
don't keep the greenrider waiting. Go get your things. I know you'll
do well. Write to me soon, agreed?"

"Yes, Master Shuvan. On the next restday, I'll have a letter ready.
Thank you!" Furayl bowed his head to the Master Weaver and left the office.

The praise, and the pride that he'd been chosen for a part, even a small
one, in the plan to change the Weyr sustained him all the way to the
empty apprentice dormitory, where he packed his few belongings into the
bag he'd brought to the Hall not long ago, and then out of the main door
to where the green and her rider were waiting. The girl who'd been
Searched was there already. She gave him a scornful look, and suddenly
his fears returned, bringing him to a halt a dragonlength from Fusith,
clutching his bag to his chest.

Wacilla noticed the young boy's hesitation upon his approach and where
his eyes went. A quick look over her shoulder and the expression on
the girl's face, made the greenrider's eyes narrow and her lips thin.
Candidates were too necessary with eggs on the Sands, but she didn't
have to show the girl any favor. Instead, she approached Furayl with a
smile that was warm. "I'm so glad you decided to come." Pointedly, the
Fusith lowered her head to Furayl, then crouched slowly beside him.
Wacilla spoke softly to him, only for his ears. "I'll speak to the
Headwoman. We'll make sure that she leaves you alone, alright?" She
offered her hand and nodded towards Fusith's proffered forelimb. "I'll
help you up."

"Thank you, Greenrider." Furayl looked up. Even though he knew that
greens were the smallest dragons, he'd never seen one so close up and
her back looked awfully high. At the same time, though, the curious
feeling that he'd come to no harm around Fusith returned. He slipped the
strap of the bag over his shoulder and took Wacilla's hand, scrambling a
little clumsily, but safely up to the ridges at the base of her neck.

Wacilla wasted no time in getting the other girl up on Fusith, then
strapped them both in securely before settling herself between them,
with Furayl behind her so he could hold on to her if he became
overwhelmed. The girl was offered no such comfort. The Search
complete, Fusith took to the air with her burden of passengers,
straining just a little before finding a good bit of wind. Wacilla
called out so they could both hear her. "Hold on, we'll be going
/between/. When it goes dark, count to three, it'll be over and we'll
be at the Weyr."

Last updated on the January 13th 2021

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The Warp and Weft (2/2)