Salmand Sitt

Salmand always liked looking good, and during gym class it was no different. Though he certainly had raised a sweat on today's energetic rope climb and subsequent 'cirque' style routine dangling from them waving colorful sashes around, Salmand's brown skin shone in the gym's spotlight rather than dripping in unsightly ways. Even if he wasn't generously muscular like some of those in the class, it was clear that Salmand was their star performer today. Though this hardly counted as 'track', there was a gymnastics component to several events, and today the Pole Dancing class was watching in awe at Salmand's indoor performance, with the rest of his Track and Field class wondering why he hadn't just signed up for this one instead. It was because he claimed he wasn't a 'performer', he would rather be enjoying the fresh air and competitive field class - this one was a solo performance and it only showcased one person at a time, which was fine for a grade, but he did feel much more comfortable leaping like the gazelle-kin over obstacles or hitting fast-pitch softball to take a team to a victory.

But even though this week-long class was a bit of an interruption of their outdoor event schedule, Salmand still looked very fine, and garnered himself another gold-star performance, with only a little shake to his routine toward the end. Upper body strength was not his norm, he wobbled on his way to the floor in a still-graceful spin. He wasn't a perfectionist, and perhaps that made his classmates even more envious of his skill. Half the regular gym class were envious of his outfit; though they weren't required, quite a few of the students who either could afford them or had friends in the Textiles class created colorful and sometimes improbably sparkly bodysuits for this final routine.

Salmand and his track class friends congratulated each other, they were all at least passing this part of the course! A few of the burlier types fumbled a bit, all that 'upper body strength' only worked well when it was paired with flexibility after all, and theirs was geared toward throwing footballs or lifting weights, not twisting into pretzel shapes fifteen feet up a performance rope. They would all be happy when the freak rainstorm that was continuing to unload over Crescent City and the rest of the west coast would end - and that was no time soon, according to the weather service as well as any of the local weather-witches.

All outdoor activities, even just walking from class to class, were curtailed. Traffic was a mess. At least it wasn't snowing, but this was highly unusual weather indeed. And according to those same weather witches: a natural occurrance that was just very rare. One of them on the local news the night before had declared people should start to worry 'but only if frogs or snakes start coming down too'. After the 'two thirds' class bell rang in the gym, declaring performance time to be over, and cleanup to begin, hardly anyone really wandered over to the showers. Outside, they'd get plenty wet stepping out of the gym building.

"We need teleporters to get to our lockers," one of his classmates grumbled. "I swear my stuff is supposed to be warm wash only, but this is getting ridiculous..." The rain was simply pelting down, but it was also slightly steamy - again not unseasonable and not unheard of, but it was still over 80 degrees out there, Summer on its way.

"At least it could be cooler, give us a break from this heat," Salmand agreed. "This is just gross," he put his hand out, he'd have stood under the rain if only it wasn't the same temperature as his sweat. "I have a towel but no umbrella..." That self-same towel was draped over his narrow shoulders, and even though it had a kind of electronic enchantment on it that kept it from being 'dirty', it could only soak so much water before it gave up in shame.

"Well, race you to the lockers," another of the group said, and even though he was still a bit tired from his routine, Salmand joined in. They made it with only one or two slips and slides along the cement path, and were all glad that the locker halls were sheltered with their solar panels above a nice firm roof. It was going to be much more 'fun' getting all the way across campus to his Trig classes, though. There was no way anyone would be stupid enough to duck through the Library of all places, they'd have to make a sharp right and an equally sharp left across the northern dorm grounds, dodge a tree or two, to have a straight shot south. With the Library and Student Union buildings offering nothing more than dripping awnings and extra puddles, the Speaker's Plaza was all but filled with rainwater, no one was at their kiosks outside the Caffetorium, and the grass around the lunch park was absolutely soggy. Finally Salmand reached the Mathematics Department building, with a few moments to spare before the first bell went off.

Thankfully today, no one was going to be faulting students for being late, even this far into the day. Their last class, 8th Period (Tuesdays and Thursdays) was going to be a sopping wet one even in here. Homework was turned in damp, there was an overriding smell of mildew in the parts of the building closest to the "Old School", which wafted up to the second floor where the Trig class was.

Was it in solidarity with the students, or gently mocking them, that Nachos California was wearing his 'Horchata' outfit? It nearly matched what Salmand had worn for his rope performance earlier, in white with some amount of gold trim, but it also had the hallmarks of being an 'enchanted' outfit too - with quickly vanishing 'dripping' of that same rice drink gathering on the floor or desk when he moved around. Some of the students literally steamed, only one or two were happy about their campus drenching, and those were water-shapers or amphibious.

Though their class was reasonably normal, aside from the constant sound of rain hitting the external wall and windows, rattlling aggressively, Salmand detected something a bit strange. Their instructor was distracted, and kept looking at his computer monitor and apparently typing responses to chat or texting there. As well: he kept looking at Salmand, though it was subtle. Had he done something wrong? Was there something going on? A growing sense of anxiety started to take seed in Salmand's gut.

"Can you stay a bit, after class?" Nachos asked carefully, though it seemed more chipper and upbeat everyone dreaded that 'after class' thing. Some students worried because they were precariously almost-failing, but Salmand knew he wasn't. So what was it? Both professor and student knew there would be prying ears waiting to overhear whatever was going to be said after that last bell dismissed everyone. And with a little Vortal nudge, a psionic suggestion that those lingering in the hall go right on out to try and stay dry and dodge raindrops on their way home, those ears were no longer prying.

Nachos continued to stand near his desk, horchata-effect still dripping and rapidly evaporating on the linoleum floor, silent. The room itself was far from quiet, still, and Salmand hadn't risen from his desk even to move his homework or books back into his bag. Though he looked 'young', Nachos California was anything but - technically speaking maybe, his body was 'new', but he had the bearing of someone considerably older and more experienced than a 'local surfer looking dude' could have. He placed his white-gloved hands behind his back, under that gold filigreed white cape, and tilted his head while looking out of the windows. Hardly anything more than 'messy rain' could be seen, and some of the windows had misted up since it was warm inside.

"Am I in trouble, sir?" Salmand finally asked. California shook his head, turning to finally face the student.

"Oh no, no not at all," was his reply. His voice was spooky, but not scary like some would call it. Brilliant turquoise eyes examined the student, and it felt for all the world like he was looking through Salmand's memories. While he was doing so, Salmand noticed something moving in the shadows behind the professor's desk. "Ah, there you are," California muttered when he too noticed that movement.

With that, he also turned to the shadow, and the shadow turned to him. Salmand knew that some of the professors were also dragon riders, though for most of the year he hadn't thought about it. Sometimes they attended dragonry events, or showed off by arriving in style. Other times they were hanging out by the Dragonry roosts. It was part and parcel with Carramba these days, they had a dragon program, what of it?

Well this one slunk around the desk like dark smoke, roiling until it congealed into inky scales and graphite hide... and brilliant reflective toxic-looking green wings, markings, paws. It also grew in size, from a mere hand-length wisp, into a 3-meter-long dragon - two of which was tail. She wound her very long tail around her body and legs, twice, and looked up with a long and narrow face at her partner. They seemed to be conferring mentally, Salmand understood they had a discussion just by their body and facial expressions but he wasn't privy to their words.

"I've been hearing from a variety of sources," Nachos said, breaking the strangely awkward pause, "that you would make a good pair for a dragon somewhere." They were interrupted by a knock and the opening of the classroom's door, and Nachos' face lit up with a friendly smile. "Ah you made it, come and have a seat wherever." He waved his hand and the two tall, green-haired students did so with grins a mile wide.

"Oh hey," Salmand knew both of them from his Nexus Geohistory class, and the boy also sharing his Time Travel class later in the day. "What's going on, do you know?" He asked more quietly as Teala and Leif took seats right next to his. It looked like Teala wanted to nod enthusiastically, but she instead gave that nod toward the professor.

"I'll be responsible for taking you to your destination," Nachos said, "once you have the paperwork settled," he seemed to have produced some kind of pamphlet out of thin air, and handed it to only Salmand. "Go ahead and read it over, and if you're okay with that, we can get started..."

Confused, still not really understanding yet what the implication was, Salmand opened that pamphlet which had brightly colored artwork... no wait those were photos of dragons on the front. And plenty more pictures on the inside? Blurbs? For locations where dragons roosted, apparently. His fine eyebrows worked up their own sweat acrobatically, when Salmand finally matched up a few words that had been said. He was ... searched for a dragon? To ride?

He muttered those words, finally at a loss for the first time in weeks. Usually Salmand was calm-cool-and-collected, but this was... Something else. Teala giggled, and Leif gave his own chuckle.

"Indeed," Nachos said, "there is a large clutch of small eggs, and it seems that someone thinks you'll be good for it." That black and green dragon looked rather proud of itself. "Tessrabia also thought so," Nachos gently chided the dragon, "don't think you were the first." The dragon rolled her eyes and head around. Salmand only faintly noticed that the dragon had multiple pairs of wings, to go with that extra-extra long tail. He glanced back at the pamphlet.

"But... I mean." He then scanned the final pages of the booklet and bit his lip, "there's a permission slip here, you know that my--"

"Your parents were already informed, and gave consent," Nachos said, producing another paper, with their signatures, that he then placed carefully into a briefcase nearby. "I'll make sure that the Administrative Torus gets that, don't worry."

"But I mean they're in deep space! In another dimension!" Salmand finally lost his cool just a little.

"Of course, and they signed the paperwork there," Nachos had a very faint grin, visible only in how his eyes crinkled around the edges. He tossed his hair a little, hiding it expertly. This form of his was less adept with that whole poker-face than most.

Leif leaned over to Salmand and whispered, "granddad's a teleporter, no hitch hiking needed," which didn't help at all.

Eventually however, after the initial shock and dismay wore off into a giddy excitement, Salmand learned that Leif and Teala were also headed to this hatching, at a location called Isla Weyr. Also, that they were... related to professor California by virtue of cloning 'on all sides' whatever that meant. (It meant that they were children of clones and genetically engineered, and the professor was also one, part of their line by being split from 'their real gramps' - and subsequently that information was erased from Salmand's mind gently, by said professor.)

They would be going to the Weyr in style, and though 'granddad's dragon was the sire of a number of those 'small' eggs, it would be this much larger dragoness that Nachos was bonded to, that would take them all.

Salmand looked at the dragon in question, who, while quite long and slinky was still hardly up to California's hip.

"When it stops raining," the professor asserted, "we'll gear up and get you all where you're supposed to be. For now," he said, "I'd suggest getting your own gear ready. You have normal classes tomorrow, and then over the weekend we'll hope that this rain lets up. Go shopping for whatever you might need or not have already, you'll be at Isla for a bit."

Well that was going to be just fine, Salmand was always prepared to 'be there for a bit', as a hitch hiker. It was in his blood, after all. Teala and Leif commented something about not having the coordinates to this place to bring themselves there, as they all cleared out of the classroom Leif decided not to bother getting wet outside. Instead he opened the janitor's closet door nearest the class, and beyond it was...

"That's... that's the exchange housing lobby," Salmand muttered, looking into it like it was just an illusion. It was not.

"Leif likes showing off," she said, stepping through the door and into the obviously-real lobby. "Oh this place is nice, Leif you should swipe some of the details here." That self-same boy waved his hand (an awful lot like California did a few minutes before) and indicated Salmand should enter. By the time he did, the door behind him had reverted to its original shape, the broom closet next to the elevators of the exchange housing building about five blocks from Carramba's campus. Leif also apparently liked playing the game of 'yes that was a normal door, no that was my power'. Just like granddad.

Their Friday classes (all eight, shorter than the rest of the week) went by in a blur. It was still raining, though at least by Saturday it had started to cool down. And then by Sunday it was outright hailing. But Salmand still enjoyed shopping more than he was annoyed at the weather, and braved it to get himself a nice coat ready for riding, warmer boots, other such clothing that might or might not get used early on in his potential dragon riding career. But electronic storage, camera, journals, electronic books on dragons that were available at the Student Union's shop... He could consult local books when they got where they were going, provided they had books...

"I'm still not sure how that little dragon's going to--" Salmand's voice petered out to a squeek, as he and the siblings moved over to the Dragonry side of the campus. It was only light rain today, and it was a good window for their trip, as good as it was going to be anyway. The mist on the field was thicker than typical, but Salmand swore that there was something incredibly large roiling around behind it, and that turned out to be the same dragon as Nachos had in his classroom - only. Incredibly large.

Nachos barely came up to the top of her ankle, as the dragon slipped out of the mists and onto the field in proper view. She beat two of her wings and scattered rain everywhere, but offered them as shelter once everyone was nearby. The other pair of wings, she held over her own back. Under her neck, she put her huge webbed tail, keeping the area where the kids, professor, and their gear would be snugged down in a harness from getting too slick with rain before they even started their journey.

Leif pushed his hand up to Salmand's chin, closing his mouth. "It's a dragon, she's magic. Aren't you, Qutobi?" He called upwards, and the dragoness gave off a surprisingly comprehending laugh.

"I am a dragon, and I am magic!" She replied. As the siblings nudged Salmand forward, he picked up his gear bag and stumbled ahead, still more in awe over her size than the fact that she spoke English.

Nachos appeared in a faintly taco-truck smelling puff of orange-green energy, between the dragon's feet and her neck, where their gear would be put into the harness first. "You will need to remember that the dragons you three will be standing for... will not be this big," Nachos grunted, as he pulled the storage straps snug. "But the theory of riding will be similar anywhere you go, so get used to it."

"I don't think the dragons granddad's dragon sired will have to be ridden under their neck," Teala chuckled.

"Granddad's dragon could fit in this harness with us," Leif assured her.

"I'm right here," Nachos yelled from Qutobi's back, "Oh you mean him, never mind," and then the dragon lurched into the sky. They were standing, barely hanging on, with that leap almost causing the teens to tumble into a pile. Though there was mesh protecting the neck-born gondola, it was still open-air, and the trio were warned that the next leg of their liftoff would probably take their breath away - literally. Keep calm, Nachos' mind came to theirs, sounding the same, only without him having to shout over the wind, rain, and beating of his dragon's huge wings. Just breathe slowly.

Salmand did so, even though he was thrilled and tempted to gasp. The dragon was moving so quickly upwards that it felt like one of those roller coaster rides down on the boardwalk, infinitely less safe, far, far higher up. In fact, so far up - that they went beyond the clouds in moments. The bright sun was at their back, however, and once they were above were given quite the view of the endless grey storm. They didn't go much higher than that, however, before Nachos gave another mental warning.

We're about to move between worlds, he stated, so you need to remain even more calm than before... If you need to close your eyes, do that. If you need to barf, well I suppose I can't stop you. It will be cold, and technically it's airless. We will not be stopping there, but it will take a little time to move through the Void and into Isla's airspace, so you should take a deep breath - NOW.

Now this was something Salmand was looking forward to! Until it happened, and he was left with a chill that went so deeply it seemed to cut through his whole being. His deeply held breath started fizzling, he was good with pacing his breathing to running and jumping, not to just standing in absolute-zero pitch-black... ghost filled Void trying to hold it. Closing his eyes did no good. The ghosts were still there, unless that noise in his ears was just his pounding blood?

No, it was definitely ghosts. Whispering.

Don't listen to them, was Nachos' advice.

Just as his breath was at its last, the trip ended. With a burst, bright sunlight entered the gondola's view. The air popped back with pressure that made all three kids' ears stuff up. And all three of them gasped for breath, it wasn't just Salmand, and for that he seemed a bit glad. Weird, they were. But human, they also were.

Humans below on the beautiful and lush mountainside waved energetically, they could barely be seen down there. It seemed that Qutobi wanted to give her passengers just a little taste of the location before landing. After all, they'd get the chance to see it for themselves on their own dragons, if all went well.