janiual

J'nal's Weyr

You walk into the weyr quietly, not quite sure what you're doing, intruding on Janiual's privacy. But, fingering the cracked piece of pottery in your hands, you know that you must. The boy's the only Potter here, and as a journeyman, well, he should be able to fix this. You know that the other Potter, Yila, is a Candiate and probably busy with shoveling firestone into sacks, or whatever it is that Candidates do... That doesn't matter to you right now, all that you want is your pot fixed.

A young man, probably around the age of 17 or so, strides into the room. "Yes?" He inquires, blue eyes picking out the pot in your hands. "Ah, another customer?" He jokes, lifting the pottery from your hands, and you can't help but stare.

Janiual is everything but what you expected. He's tall, gangling, and would probably be more suited to the Dolphin Craft than anything else. His fingers are long and slender, and taper to a point at the end. They are what would be considered a "woman's hand" by many a Pernese farmer, not calloused or roughened. Also, his age is surprising. He looks seventeen, atleast, but he could be older, and has a shock of dark brown hair that falls into his eyes as he stares at the pottery.

"Forgive me for staring," You say hastily as he glances up. "And I apologize, Journeyman, but what is your age?"

"Nineteen Turns, though I do look a few younger, do I not?" He replies, not looking at you, but at the pot. You're not sure whether to be happy that he's so concerned with your problem, or if you should be angry that Janmal doesn't seem to be paying attention to you. "And luck to be a Journeyman, I know."

He furrows his brown in concentration, staring at the pot, one of the few things that you've had throughout the years. "Well?" You inquire at his concentration.

"I need to look at this for a little bit longer," Janiual replies, and you look about the weyr for something to do. Your eyes fall upon a small book.

"May I?" You ask, wondering what's inside.

"Sure," He mutteres, still not paying attention. "It's a story of my journey that Yila wrote for me," He says, suddenly blushing, and you grin. So, Journeyman Potter has the hots for Candidate/ Apprentice Potter?

Suddenly, a smal sound from outside on the cliffface gets your attention. "What was that?" You ask in horror, but the question answeres itself whenever a dragon's blue head pokes into the weyr. "You... You have a dragon?" You stutter.

"Yes, he was abandoned... His name is Cyllanth."

Yes, my other rider left me. Janiual came and saved me, though, from giving up. The blue croons softly and stares at you, and you swear that it's smiling.

You can see the young man's eyes clouding with a thin sheen of tears as he suddenly lays down the pot, walks over to the blue, and wraps his arms around the blue's neck.

Grinning, but almost crying from this display of emotions, you site down and read the book, not aware of the time that passes. Eventually, though, you stand up, stretch, and turn back to see J'nal's frown. "What's wrong?" You inquire, not sure why he looks so upset.

"This," He says, "Is beyond my capabilities, and time, with Cyllanth. Try, say, the WeyrPotter. His weyr is a few to the left. Or you could just go back to Dark Moon Weyr."