Rodjath

WAS Pearlcatcher, Irishim/Basic



Rodjath was the first of his nest to hatch, and while his coloring was unexceptional, his eyes were another story! They marked him as special even then, though no one knew exactly how.

His parents thought he was a fussy infant. They would find him in unexpected places, gasping and wild-eyed, shivering uncontrollably, and then he would cry, taking great heaving breaths. He didn't have the words to tell them what was wrong. They were good parents and strove to console him, forgetting to wonder how he had gotten out of the nursery. Hot baths were especially effective. He really loved the water, so they gave him swimming lessons while still a hatchling, and showed him how to hold his breath. After that, he appeared to grow out of his frights, and reached adulthood without fanfare.

What Rodjath never told anyone was that he had discovered how he was different from other dragons. As a child it had begun with a simple longing to be out and about. With little more than a thought, a picture in his mind of where he wanted to go, he could teleport in an instant to another place he'd been before. There would be a clap of thunder, and the place he had been would suddenly be empty, as he reappeared elsewhere. In the Shifting Expanse no one noticed the extra sound! But what Rodjath would feel in that instant of transfer was bone-biting cold, and nothing to breathe! The first times it happened, accidentally, he'd felt suffocated and frantic, and disoriented on arrival. After he recognized what to expect he could prepare himself, taking a deep breath to hold before launching himself through the void, and dressing warmly. He had a special insulated coat made with auxiliary heating to maintain his core temperature. And then he left his home to travel - by conventional modes - to build up his mental file of locations to remember. *

He discovered WindSky Weyr after a recommendation from another wanderer steered him to The Four Winds Bar, at a time when he was ready to think about settling down. Bocoth introduced him to Lightninth, and he set up a lair nearby, high in the the Cloudsong, tinkering happily. In a settlement of that size, there was always some device needing repair or refinement, so he had a steady income, but not so much work as to be overwhelming. It gave him time to delve into the resources at the library of Alexandriath, and explore new ideas.

One day he decided to follow up on a line of inquiry with a quick trip to the Arcane Isles, but just as he'd finished his breakfast a knock sounded at his door. He wasn't about to turn down a new repair job, so admitted his petitioner. It would be a simple fix, and he was quick to log it in to do later that day. Then he resumed his plan. He took a breath, pictured the scene, and shifted ... right into the aftermath of what turned out to be a crashing spaceslab! Had he left any sooner, he'd have been fatally smashed by the out-of-control vehicle; instead he was caught in a tumult of wind and magic that thrashed him severely and knocked him out cold.

Rodjath awoke on the ground, coughing glitter. He felt concussed, and was sure he'd heard bones snap before he'd lost consciousness. His whole body hurt. Strange faces swam in his vision. "Don't worry, you'll be fine!" soothed an annoyingly cheerful voice. He groaned, and passed out again.

When next he woke, he felt remarkably better, as if he'd gotten a solid night's sleep. He blinked his eyes uncertainly. The world looked brighter somehow, and there seemed to be a lot of activity around him. He struggled to sit up, feeling unusually awkward, and spied the remains of his coat, irrevocably shredded. Shards of metal glinted, likewise destroyed. "My Pearl!!" he croaked - gods he was thirsty! - "Where's my Pearl?!" That last was loud enough to draw someone's attention. "You're awake! Good! Hold on a minute..." Hands appeared, offering a bowl. "Soup! Drink it!" He did. It did wonders to ease his dry throat, and, he realized, his hunger! "My Pearl?" he asked. "Here it is!" said the voice, as they laid it gently in his lap. It didn't seem to be damaged at all! And yet, something didn't feel right. He turned, still a little stiff, towards his benefactor, and struggled to focus. Large eyes looked back at him ... but they weren't attached to a Spiral! Was he hallucinating? The look on his face must have telegraphed what he was he was thinking. "I am an Aether," the odd dragon supplied, "and now, due to your accident, so are you!"

It was several weeks before he returned to WindSky Weyr. He no longer needed his coat.


* NB: To anyone who's read Anne McCaffrey, yes, I am describing "going Between", adapted to Sornieth!

NTS: Followups:
a) Who delayed him? Make them get to be friends later
b) Who helped him? Find an Arcane to RP it with?