To Be Made New

Writers: Eimi
Date Posted: 14th December 2007

Characters: L'rew
Description: Lazarew hears what his neighbors really think of him
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 7, day 14 of Turn 4

Lazarew tried to close his eyes tight and hoped that sleep would come, but it was no use. He shifted, trying to find a position that was comfortable on his new cot. It wasn't even proper bed, he though sourly. Back home he had a nice bed. His father had built it especially for him when he started growing. He could stretch out on it as much as he liked. His father had said he had needed the room to grow. But this on this one he didn't even have room to move. He was half afraid if he rolled in the night he'd fall right off the edge. It wasn't just the strange bed that prevented his sleep. Everything was strange in this place. The room smelled strange. It didn't smell anything like home. Shards, what he wouldn't give for an open window right now! Just a little fresh air. But it was the middle of winter, and the windows were too few to do much good anyway. His blanket was also too heavy. Shards, how could it be winter and yet still be so hot in this room! It must be all the bodies heating it up. And stinking it up.

The sounds were different, too. Back home he could hear the wind in the trees, the house give off its familiar creeks and groans, his father's boots stomping, his mother's skirts rustling... Here he heard boys snoring and farting in their sleep. Some were whispering to each other, the ones who had friends to talk to. And he couldn't be sure, but it kind of sounded like one of the boys fairly close to him was doing something... Well, something that he just shouldn't do with other people around! Shards, could he ever fall asleep in such a strange place?

He closed his eyes once more as he heard footsteps walking up the aisle towards his bed. What now? Was someone coming to scold him for not being asleep after lights out? Oh shards, they stopped right next to him! He kept his eyes shut and tried to keep his breathing even, hoping they would see he was asleep and would move on. Instead, he heard the person flop back on the cot next to him with a sigh. He hadn't seen anyone there before. He thought it was an empty space!

"Foston, is that you?" the boy on the other side of Lazarew asked. He was pretty sure the kid's name was Cories.

"Yeah," the newcomer mumbled.

"You're just getting in _now_?"

"Uh huh," Foston confirmed sleepily.

Cories sighed and turned on his side towards them. "You're so lucky you have a craft that lets you out of here at night. I should have been a starsmith."

"A mark says he wasn't doing any real crafting," the boy on the opposite side of Foston called softly.

"You'd be right, Lyfor," Foston agreed smuggly.

"Wait. What were you doing then?" Cories asked curiously.

Lyfor snorted softly. "Another mark says it was Kirsana."

"I wouldn't say _doing_," Foston corrected. Then he ammended, "At least, not yet."

"Kirsana? Really?" Lazarew could detect a note of envy in Cories voice.

"Did you kiss her?" Lyfor asked as he rolled on his side.

"Yup."

"With tongue?" Cories pressed.

"Of course."

"Nice," Cories sighed, rolling onto his back once more.

"Hey," Foston whispered, sitting up slightly. "Wasn't that cot empty before?"

"Yeah, it's another new Candidate," Lyfor muttered, re-adjusting his pillow. Lazarew wished more than ever he could just melt into the shadows.

"They're really bringing them in," his neighbor said, sitting up once more. The new boy could just feel Foston's eyes on him in the dim glowlight, studying him. "What's he like?"

"I dunno. He didn't really say much," Cories said, rolling onto his side once more.

"Hey, are you awake new boy?" Lazarew could feel one of Foston's fingers poking his arm lightly. He stayed as still as a stone and willed his breathing to remain even. **Just leave me alone...** his mind begged. Foston drew back to his own side of the aisle. "He smells funny."

"Tell me about it. I can smell him from here," Lyfor mumbled, rolling over onto his other side.

"What is it? I don't know that smell. It's kind of like some kind of animal or something." Lazarew was sure they could see his face glowing red in the dark. Sharding wherry arses! He definitely did not like this Foston.

"It's ovine," Cories spoke up. "I'd know it anywhere."

Lazarew just wanted to die.

"Ovine?" Foston asked, taking another wiff. "Are you sure?"

"I can't forget it. My father is a Weaver. When the fresh wool came in the whole workshop stank of it." Cories pulled his blanket up under his chin.

"Shards, you mean I'm going to have to sleep next to this guy? Can't we bathe him or something?" Foston grumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"It will wear off in a couple days," his friend assured him as Lyfor began softly snoring.

"It better, or I'll be asking for another cot. Shells, he couldn't come from a place where they grew flowers or fruit or something..." He slipped under the blanket and turned on his side facing away. "Good night, Cories."

Lazarew's fingers curled tightly into his bedsheet, his jaw tightening. He had never felt so ashamed in his life. They could smell it all over him. An outsider. A fool. A stinky old ovine herder. Lazarew wanted to just dive into a bathing pool and scrub and scrub until he had not a shred of skin left on his body, not a trace of his former life. He just wanted to be made new. He wanted his father to be someone brilliant and exciting, and his mother to be beautiful with soft hands that had never known a day of work on their life. He wanted all the boys to like him, respect him, remember him - 'You see that boy? That's Lazarew. The Weyr was lucky the day he was Searched'. But instead, he was just the smelly boy from the back of /between/. His eyes closed tightly as he fought down tears and a thought which shamed him even more than his smell - **I want to go home!**

Last updated on the December 16th 2007

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To Be Made New