Character: Bayle of Banter House
Age: 13
Physical appearance: long blonde hair, fair skin, blue eyes, full lips (a very attractive young lad) fairly tall for his age, but very slight in build. One leg is slightly shorter than the other (birth defect). Walks with a limp.
Clothes: before his induction ceremoney bayle wore a long, bright orange tunic over tan coloured breeches and soft leather shoes. After his ceremoney he will waer a white tunic until he is given a vocation. Often seen wearing goggles, leather padding and boots for hover biking.
Striking Characteristics: Bayle's totem ( a symbol of his induction, only appears AFTER his ceremony) is a small red dragon called Fergus. Fergus is small enough to sit on Bayle's shoulder.

A scene to introduce Bayle:
(this is parts of two chapters that are about half way into the first draft of the book. I think they give a pretty good idea od what Bayle is like. There are a few other characters in this snapshot, I'm really just interested in bayle and Fergus).


Just as she did every morning, Vahn had set out Bayle’s breakfast on the kitchen table. She seemed particularly agitated this morning and Bayle thought he knew why. In the corner by the door Vahn had also set out their boarding gear. Polished wooden boards leaned against the wall surrounded by knee and elbow pads, wrist guards, a flat leather helmet and goggles.
Bayle enjoyed boarding and practiced every chance he got. Riding the board was the only time he didn’t feel awkward and unbalanced. It had also been another way to escape Vahn’s constant attentions as she rarely accompanied him.
She had no sense of balance.
It showed great devotion that she had laid her gear next to his, looking new and unused against his battered and worn equipment.
Fergus turned up his nose at the bowl of porridge Vahn offered him.
‘I prefer to hunt for my own food,’ he told Bayle.
Bayle bolted his own breakfast of fruit and bread and even sat patiently while Vahn brushed and tied back his hair. She took an extra amount of time and care this morning.
She stalled as long as she could, making a big deal about putting on the gear until Bayle gave into his frustration.
‘Here, let me do it,’ he sighed and with practiced movements he soon had her buckled into her jacket and had laced up her high leather boots.
They carried the heavy boards under their arms out to the covered yard. Here the boards would be clipped into the lava propellers that were too big to bring inside. Fergus flapped over to a low branch to watch. But Bayle had only just pushed down the first clip when he noticed the front gate open. Master Aaton stood at the end of the path.
He walked towards them with a strange blank expression. His hair seemed dull and lank instead of its usual shiny, black strands. The Master’s face was grey and moist with sweat.
‘Are you looking for my mother?’ said Bayle straightening up nervously. His eyes flicked to where Fergus was perched, thinking of Fergus and Rance’s last violent meeting. However, the dirty green form of Rance that usually accompanied Master Aaton was nowhere in sight.
Aaton looked uncertainly at Bayle. ‘Yes … your mother … I think I need to see her,’ he said with a confused frown. Bayle and Vahn exchanged uneasy glances. The Master took a few more unsteady paces forward towards them.
‘I think she’s already in her work room,’ said Bayle backing away.
‘I think … I think I will find her,’ stammered the Master most uncharacteristically. ‘I’m feeling rather unwell,’ he confessed.
With a distinct sway in his movements, Aaton walked past them and continued on around the back without further comment.
Bayle raised his eyebrows. ‘What was that all about?’ he asked Vahn.
‘He really did look unwell. Do you think maybe Master Gergan has done something to him?’ Vahn replied, just as unsure.
‘Then why would he be looking for Renae? Surely when you’re sick you go to Master Declan?’
For a moment Bayle considered creeping behind Master Aaton to listen in on his conversation with Renae. Just as he was about to suggest this to Vahn, the bulky body of Rance swept into view, leathery wings outstretched. He coasted in low over the yard, warbled a threat to Fergus and then, beating strong wings for height, was gone around the corner of the building.
Bayle noticed Vahn’s expression as she stared at the corner of the building. She shuddered. ‘I’ve never liked that creature,’ she said.

The Village
Bayle wasn’t about to let Avahnti take him straight to the village. Once he was on a Lava board with the engine throbbing behind him, he felt alive. He led them down to the beach, across the open dunes, riding above the sand. Fergus embraced the moment, skimming out over the waves and dipping his leathery wings into the surf.
The wind whooshed past Bayle’s face and he ducked his head, glad of the goggles protecting his eyes. He leaned out almost horizontally to drag his hand along the sand making a long trench.
‘Don’t!’ Vahn cried, loud enough to be heard over the wind in his ears.
He looked back at her and grinned evily. Just to vex her he flew a little higher and toppled right over, under his board. With a quick well practiced movement he threw his weight around and vertical again, hanging on with his heels and one hand.
‘Bayle!’ she screamed in protest, her face white with fear.
He took pity on her and rode sedately upright.
They reached the end of the beach and swung inland, approaching the village from the northern end where the villagers grew crops on stretches of flat fertile soil, protected from hot western afternoon suns by the height of the volcano. Their Lava Boards zoomed past the fields stirring up loose soil and rustling the leaves of crops growing close to the path. The hum of the boards disturbed the quiet, and brown faces under straw hats lifted from their work in the sun to watch them pass.
Soon the wide fields gave way to clusters of neat, wooden houses, their open gardens riotous with colour. The houses became more closely nestled together as they approached the village proper where packed earth created a central plaza.
Bayle realised that it must be more than a year since he last made the journey down to the village. When Vahn was still young her mother had made the decision to move into the banter house to best serve the family. They visited their kin in the village often and as a young boy Bayle had been forced to accompany them while his mother and father worked. However, when he had begun his schooling with the Masters, this had become infrequent. The village had changed little since Bayle’s last visit.
Any hope of making a secret investigation of the outer building in the village quickly evaporated. The lava boards had been heard by the village children well before Bayle and his companions reached the plaza. Already a swarm of them was gathering to enjoy the spectacle, made even more exciting by the appearance of a real live dragon.
‘I should have known,’ groaned Bayle, sliding his goggles onto the top of his head. He couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading on his face as the sturdy brown children chattered enthusiastically around Fergus. The little dragon seemed unfazed by the attention, even giving them a thrill by breathing a jet of flame into the air.
Vahn looked relaxed and at home with the large group of children that had gathered. ‘Oh they are no problem. I know how to handle them.’ She smiled and ruffled the hair of her nearest cousin. ‘Who wants to play a game?’ she called out over their heads.
The children jumped right into the spirit of things. They crowded around the bulky machines eager to help push them into the bushes.
‘Now who wants to be ‘it’?’ Little bodies jumped up and down with excitement, waving their hands in the air in their enthusiasm to be picked.
Vahn winked at Bayle. ‘Now everyone run and hide,’ she cried.
Children scattered in all directions leaving just one boy covering his eyes in the middle of the square to start counting. It was easy then to slip away behind the village buildings.
Here, where the villagers kept sheds for storage, the jungle was once again creeping in, invading with long and tenacious vines. Bayle stepped over them as Vahn led him to where she had seen Master Gergan. The shed was an ill kept, low and wooden structure no different from any of the others they had passed though it was set further back, much closer to the encroaching thicket, almost as if it was trying to hide. Still, he doubted that they would find anything remarkable or revealing in this run down old shack.
With a mixture of excitement and guilt at breaking and entering, Bayle pushed on the door. It was more solid than it had looked at first glance and despite his efforts it stayed firmly shut. He took a step back and studied the weathered wood. This might require some consideration.
‘Remember it is often better to simply act quickly!’ Fergus said. The voice in his head jolted Bayle from his thoughts. It was so easy to forget that he now shared his mind with the little winged creature. ‘Push it in!’ urged the dragon.
Vahn was already stepping forward to help him. Together they put their shoulders against the aging wood and heaved. There was a groan from the frame, that sounded far too loud in Bayle’s ears, and the door suddenly relented to their efforts, swinging inwards. They tumbled into a small dark space landing in a tangled heap on the sandy floor.
‘What if someone heard us?’ Vahn whispered. Without further discussion, she leapt to her feet and closed the door, shutting them in. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the gloom and still all Bayle could see was vague shapes in the darkness.
‘There is a lamp on the wall beside you,’ said Fergus helpfully. His dragon eyes saw much better in the low light.
Bayle fumbled with the lamp until the lava gurgled into action and the orange light illuminated the close space.