Rude Boy
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Halyonix
Date Posted: 25th August 2026
Characters: J'lyas
Description: J'lyas still can't figure out a way to safely time it
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 3, day 15 of Turn 13
Mentioned:
Notes: some cursing
~*~
There were multiple issues with J’lyas’s new plan of attack.
First, it meant that he had to go back to his old Hold. In this timeline. And even though he had Braxialth, who rattled his wings to scare off most of the Holdbrats who got too close as they landed, J’lyas still seethed the moment the first person said, “Hey Juvie!”
“That’s not my name!” he snapped. Thinking quick, he said, “I’m here on business. _Dragonrider_ business! Where’s old Galona? And Borad?” Probably sitting next to the fireplace like usual. Old people were always complaining about how cold it was, even in the summer. Without waiting for a response, J’lyas stalked that way, pointedly ignoring the queries as to why he was there.
Sure enough, Galona and Borad and two other old ninnies were sitting near the heat, arguing querulously about something that had happened decades ago. Which was actually about to work in J’lyas’s favor. He grinned in preemptive victory as he heard Tavia say, “No, you were wearing that _blue_ dress. The one you _always_ wore to dinner.”
“I thought it was the green one. With the vines,” Galona pondered. “That one was my favorite, you know. I felt so pretty in it.”
“And you were!” J’lyas slipped in smoothly as he grabbed a chair and plopped down into view with a toothy grin. “Tell me again, Auntie Galona, about the Gather of Turn Five. You loved that Gather, didn’t you?”
“Oh, I did!” she gushed. And, just as he had hoped, she launched into the tale of it. About how harpers had come from three Holds to make the music (“where did they set up the Harper stage?” J’lyas asked), and how many vendor tents had been set up with all sorts of wares (“Where? How many? What vendors were where?”), and the flags that had been strung up and stayed up because there was no Thread and no one had to worry and--
“What color were the flags?” J’lyas asked.
“Oh, the Hold colors? I guess. They were all so pretty, just strung high like that.”
“_What_ colors?” J’lyas ground out. He needed more details! Details! People, places, things!
“Green? Blue? Some were red, I think. Oh, does it matter? They’re flags! They’re just supposed to be pretty. Anyway, I danced with so many young strapping lads! They all wanted my hand, you know. But I, I had my eye on my Denoral. He was quite a looker back then. One time, he took me to the beach. This was long before we were wed and it caused quite a scandal back then because--”
“The Gather, get back to the Gather,” J’lyas commanded.
Galona scowled at him with rheumy eyes. “Rude! You youngsters are so rude. I’m telling a story here, Juvelyas, and you aren’t listening. Why are you asking so many rude questions?”
“Because they’re important, you old hag!” J’lyas snapped, his extremely limited patience at its end. He kicked at the chair as he got up, intending to storm out. But then, he whirled. “Did the harpers paint any of it? Any drawings? Illustrations?” he demanded to know.
“Now how should I know that? We’re no harpers! That’s a question for Tassotel. He’d be the one keeping that sort of thing. You should watch your tongue, young man! Calling me an old hag like that! I’ve had enough of you, be gone!”
J’lyas growled. There was no way he was going to as Holder Tassotel anything. Especially since J’lyas was intending to hop back in time and pester the sharding man. “Useless fart,” he snarled as he left. This revealed the second problem with his plan: the doddering elders had plenty of stories but not enough details. And details were what kept him and Brax alive.
He was so engrossed in his frustration that he wasn’t paying attention and now someone had caught up to him. Someone who he wanted to get back and now couldn’t. “Oh, look, Juvie’s back,” said Alaynis, the big dumb brute son of said Tassotel. “Hey, how’s that dragon of yours? Surprised he hasn’t stepped on your ugly face yet.”
“Oh, shut _up_, you half functional coat rack,” J’lyas snapped. He skirted past Alaynis but the big teenager caught him with a meaty hand on the shoulder. “Hands _off_ of me, Alaynis! I’m a dragonrider!” J’lyas shouted.
Outside, Braxialth roared so loud that the windows rattled.
That had the perfect effect. Alaynis paused just enough, trying to figure out if he could actually still bully J’lyas now that he had a dragon to back him, that J’lyas was to shrug him off with a sneer. “Remember that, you room temperature milk curd,” he spat. He strode outside, dusting off his jacket, and mounted Braxialth before anyone else had something to say to him.
}: Did you find what you needed? :{ Braxialth asked as he took off.
**No,** J’lyas admitted. Defeat tasted sour in his mouth. **But I’ll figure something out,** he promised. He was going to figure out a way to use this knowledge to his advantage _somehow_! But for now… **Hey Brax, when was the last time you took a shit?** Dragons, once grown, always vacated their bowels /between/ out of courtesy and there was nothing courteous about the idea forming in J’lyas’s mind.
Braxialth paused at the odd question but then answered, }: I…could possibly go. :{
**Great. Take a lap over the Hold and let one rip. Then take us back home.**
}: As you wish. :{
Last updated on the September 12th 2026