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Givanio  Givanio was half listening to his mother's rantings. He must not leave the hold without telling anyone, what in the name of the first egg did he think he was doing? He had little compassion for her poor nerves. Why, she had never been so worried in her whole life except for the time last seven day when he decided to leave without telling anyone. What if he had been caught out in threadfall! (the next one wasn't for three sevendays, he knew it was safe for him to be out of the hold and there was a shelter near by for the love of the first egg!) Why, she wouldn't feel bad about making him miss the next gather for his temporary outing. He had heard this lecture hundreds of times. Givanio's father grunted and looked back at the records he was absorbed in. His father took little interest in the life of his children. He prefered working all day in his beasthold and then sleeping all night and waking up at dawn. He required nothing of his children except that they are able to work most days of the week. "Are you listening to me?" Why was his father like that anyway? He cared slightly more for his four sons then he did for his seven daughters. No, they were not all from the same wife. He had only one full blooded sister, all the rest were the sons and daughters of his father's first wife. His own mother, as he well knew, left something to be disired when she entered this house hold. The first wife of the Lord Holder of the small hold in the mountains, the high reaches. The days were beginning to turn chill, winter was on the way. He shuddered involentarially. Winter meant cold, and cold meant that we would be sleeping in the barn next to his runner. "So never, ever, make me worry about you like that again understood?" "Yes mother." He said, "Never again." That seemed to appease her. She went back to her work with a frown. His sister looked up at him and winked and then went back to what she was absorbed in. Vinali was a painter, and had hopes of being apprenticed. She could too, she showed enough promise as anyone in the hold in her craft. She was just making these small sketches and paintings to send to the hall, (in secret) and ask if she could be accepted for training. In her modesty she doubted that she woulbe be excepted, but Givanio knew that she would. "Givanio." His father grunted, looking up from the record, "Go down to the beasthold. Nightblaze's foal is due anyday now." Vinali looked up at him, and secretly he winked. A nod, so small that it went unnoticed by the rest of the family told him all he needed to know. Givanio jumped at the chance. He grabbed his rough over tunic and wandered down to the beasthold. Nightblaze was a young mare, about 8 turns, and this was her second birthing. She was not on of his particularly favorite mounts, but she wasn't his least favorite either. She was, however, the favorite mount of his little sister. He expected that she would try and take her with her when she left to go to the craft. He rubbed the young colt with a worn cloth. He smiled at his sister cooing at the mare. She grinned up at him and the boy that worked in the stables, Colarin, was grinning ear to ear. The delivary had been the mares second and had gone much smoother then the first, the first had almost killed her. His little sister turned her attention to the foal. "He's gorgeous." She grinned, "Like his mother." "E's a cute little tyke," Colarin agreed with a smile. His eyes were locked on Vinali. Givanio knew he would not be the only one who'd miss her. Vinali stroked his nose with a grin. Givanio smiled in spit of himself. "What shall we call this little one." Vinali smiled and Givanio grinned, "What about ... umm ..." Creavity was not his strong point. It was more of her think. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "Alright! err ... Blackie." "Oh sure, so original." She smiled, "But it'll do." The colt had risen to his feet and now was nursing. They all hushed and left the stall. Givanio pulled some straw from his straw colored hair. Colarin stayed, looking, making sure that the mare was alright. He made his way back to his room in the hold. The sound of giggling caught his attention. Several of the hold girls, some remarkably pretty stood there, all simpering and giggling. He turned and rolled his eyes. Woman. All of them empty headed and silly. All except for Vinali, but she was special. She was an artist. And his sister which made her exempt from all the common rules of female ... giggling. He entered his room and tore off his stinking tunic and boots. He rubbed his aching feet absently, thinking of all the things that were in his life and not those of his brothers. Of course, being the second son and only son of the second wife made him subject to teasing by his older brothers, sometimes more then teasing, and even more so because his mother didn't have wit of intelligence, and the first wife he heard, did. Also, he was born much to early, too early for his birth to have been totally legitament. And he was born not only "premature" but healthy, and, rather large. He looked very little like his father, enough for there to be whispers about his parentage. He had a broad nose, a tall muscular build, (from working in the feilds with the rest of his siblings, in the stables, etc.) and a nice tan from being in the sun. He was good looking, so his mother said, but ... well, he had found that looks can be more of a curse then a blessing. For one thing, they were always hanging around where he was, or where he was romured to be that day. There was no escaping them, that was certain. The only safe place was in his room, or in the stables with Colarin, and sometimes not even then. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, waiting for the next day monotonous toil to sap another day out of his life. Three turns later Givanio looked up. His sister ran up and hugged him. She looked up and he saw the total and absolute joy in her eyes. She ran over and hugged him, sobbing with tears of joy sliding down her face. "I've been accepted!" She said happily, wipping the tears from her face, "Can you believe it? I'll really be an artist, a painter!" "Now all that is left it to tell father." "I already told him." She admited. "Well, at first will he grunt of course, and then he smiled and said that he was proud of me. Mother was a differnet story of course. She was fit to be tied of course, you understand. I think she was more offended then anything else at not being consolted before hand. She doesn't like the idea of her only daughter leaving the hold to seek what she calls a 'toiling existance'. It took me a long time to calm her down, but in the end she was for it." Givanio raised his eyebrows and said nothing. "Giv, I'll miss you so much." "I'll miss you too," Givanio said, rubbing his stiff shoulders, he had worked in the feilds that day, trying to harvest the grain before the fall. "Have fun in your new life, out of this place." "Oh, Givanio, promise me that you'll find some way to leave this place someday. I know how unhappy you are! I couldn't stand to think that you were here for the rest of your life, with Garion and Vilcar here, beating you everyday." "They've been beating me less now that I'm 17 turns and able to give them a run for their marks." He reminded her. She smiled weakly. "Don't worry about me Vinali." He told her. When his little sister left it was as if something deep in his heart cracked. He was even quieter if possible. His relationship with woman remained casual, and he had a girlfriend or two, and sometimes they turned into lovers, but nothing ever came out of it, nothing was serious. That might be why he hurt so much when his sister died. "What do you mean, dead?" He demanded. "They didn't know that it was firehead too late. The only healer they had was from the north, and he didn't know." "How could he!" Givanio was screaming, but he didn't care. "Givanio, calm down." His father said. Givanio paused, and looked at him evenly. "Are you saying that I should just forget the Vinali ever existed? That my little sister who was going to acctually get out of this forsaken place for good is dead?" He knew that he must honor her memory and her last request. He would get out of this hold if it was the last thing that he ever did. In the time that followed his sister's death smiles were not seen on the his face. He had sobered up. Sadness and solemn thought were generally shown on his features. Girls paid less intrest because of his melencholic ways. He couldn't say he really missed it, but the attention from them was not unwanted more and more lately. He wasn't sad really, he just seemed that way. What he was really doing was perparing a plan for gettingo out from this hold. Little did he know that his father was thinking of naming him the heir of the hold. He was more grounded then any of his older brothers. This made them more jealous and spiteful then ever. But he never got taken down for it in some dark and lonely passage anymore. The beatings that were given in the past made him able to recognize a situation and get out of it unscathed. Besides, he could give them a beating now at the age of seventeen turns. "GIVANIO!" His mother screamed shrilly. He jumped. He had fallen asleep in the chair. He'd been up all night looking for a hold that might need another worked. He heard that a new Hold, Woven Water, which was beholden to Sleeping Dragon Weyr, might need another pair of willing hands. He looked over at her. "What is it mother?" He asked, not at all sure what he was saying, his eyes were still full of sleep. He had been having a nice dream too. He had taken Blackie and ridden away to a world where there was no mother to nag him, not father to grunt at him and hardly aknowlege his existance. No hold to inherit, just him, and Blackie. "Don't 'what is it mother' me young man!" She said, in that tone that always made him wince. "There are searchriders here and if you do not hurry you'll miss them!" He blinked. Was this the world he had dreamed of, if it was, he had to make it in, no matter what. He jumped out of bed and ran toward the main dining hall. Sure enough, everyone of impressable age was there, even Colarin, his best friend now, from the stables. Givanio got in the line with the rest of them. The lines were the most effiecent ways for the searchriders to get candidates when they came to large holds such as this one. He knew his chances of being searched were slim, but he'd do anything at this point to keep his promise to his little sister. "My name is ', rider of blue th. Could you answer a few questions for me please?" \ "Sure." Givanio liked the man imediately. He seemed really laid back and easy going. But then again, you never know about dragonriders. "What's your Name?" "Givanio." He wondered if he should finished with "sir" but decided against it. "Rank?" "First son of the second wife of the Holder." "Age?" "17 turns." The man tilted his head and seemed to be listening to something. It was then that Givanio relized he was listening to his dragon. He seemed puzzled about something. The lad was sad, and sorrowful. He had experienced a great sadness that had left a scar him. Death of a loved one perhaps. "My name is ', rider of blue th. Would you like to become a candidate at candidate at Xaviea weyr?" "Candidate?" He whispered, "I really could get out of this place then." "We'll need to work a few things out, but both 'th and I agree that you are candidate material. Now, don't think that that means you'll impress. Some people stand on the sands and never impress and return to their old lives." So it wasn't all that great of an escape, but their was hope in getting this far. "I understand." He nodded grimly. Vinali, he thought here's to you. And ... maybe one day I'll be a dragonrider. 
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