A short-tempered man with black hair and amber
eyes. Yvander is an excellent hunter, a daring leader backed up by a great
deal of luck, but he's not one to take others into account when he's
making decisions. Those with lesser abilities are lesser humans in his
This year's Lantessama's
holiday cavern was decorated lavishly again. The inside of the smaller one
of the two hatching caverns in the middle mountain was plastered with ice.
Snow crackled below people's feet and their breath made little clouds in
the air. It didn't matter that a few winter season and a couple of
assembled winter-type dragons were grumbling and sending out bad karma
when the end result looked like this. It was snow!
Candidates and spectators filed in, as did the Laedrysses and a few other
Lantessaman officials. When everyone was seated Lucas signaled for the
lights to be dimmed and then the entire cave bathed in a faint icy blue
sheen. As the temperature dropped, the eggs in the center of the cavern,
buried in snow and ice, started to show signs of hatching.
The last two eggs hatched in close succession, sending small clouds of
fine snow in the air. Two faint-coloured tails rose up from the snow,
followed by heads, limbs, wings and body. Only when the two hatchlings
were out of the snow did it become clear that they had a different coloir.
The first, a male was completely grey, like the sky during a storm. The
second, also male, though faded had a hide that shone blue, like a
moonstone. That last one bonded first.
Yvander, the last remaining candidate
looked at the last remaining hatchling, expecting the dragon to come find
him. In stead the hatchling sat down and stared at him. Both of them
persisted for a while, but finally Yvander's nerves caved,
"Aren't you going to pick me?"
"As long as both of us know you need
me." the slate grey dragon replied.
Baffled Yvander tried to speak, but the hatchling interrupted him, "My
name is Heunir Shtil, and we've made these people wait long enough. Let's
Dazed, Yvander followed behind the last hatchling wondering if it had been
such a good idea to come to Lantessama. maybe the South was cursed after
Heunir knew he was special. His bright hide illuminated the darkest night
and though his grey feathers could be called dull, he preferred to refer
to the colour as 'frosted silver'.
Yvander watched as his dragon preened. He'd gotten used to taking his
times. the traditional IceLander had never been one to groom. A man looked
gruff and rough. But Heunir would maim him if he suggested going out
without proper styling. Maybe his dragon was right, Yvander had gotten the
occasional cat call since he'd been at Lantessama. Although the fact that
women propositioned him felt weird. It was not the way he was used to.
"So? This is not IceLand." Heunir
"It sure isn't." Yvander said wistfully.
"We can go back." Heunir
"Yes Tainted, cursed. I know."
One day he would break the hold of tradition his rider carried. But
clearly Yvander needed some more time.
"How about humouring some of those ladies? I
wouldn't mind a little escapade."
Yvander looked at his dragon and wondered where all the time had gone that
had transformed the hatchling into a rowdy male.
Yvander - Svyn -
Saryn - Rygha -