Not So Bad After All (Ruin)

Sebolaren was having a normal day for once, and he was sharding happy about it. Not a single one of his compatriots was around to pester him and he had every intention of taking a nap between the hours of chore shifts. Late season birthings were the new rage down at the stables, and knowing he would be needed there he had come here—to his room—to sleep. Alone, mind you. As he entered the Barracks and wandered down the hall to his own private sanctuary—a wild Daymar appeared. Literally; the man looked somewhat mad in the eyes when he turned to look over his shoulder (which was a natural occurrence at this point and had not been at all helped with the bonding to those…bugs). What sort of pets were those creatures anyway, and the Grey was a Red-level of vicious to boot: Proving it by her immediate urge to charge at him from his room.

”Yes, leaving me alone would be in your best interest, bug, I share a room with your bonded.” At some point Daymar would realize Sebolaren was in fact bonded to his own pet—nearly two of them if that made any difference—but the man still persisted in ignoring all evidence of the fact: Even seeing the two firelizards with him on various occasions. ”How goes, Daymar; I was hoping to catch a nap before my stable shift. I hope there isn’t trouble?” When wasn’t there trouble…really?

The expression on Sebolaren’s face when the pair dove into the room as if facing off a mighty army of wherries was priceless; if only someone had been there to experience it. The angry Grey pillie dove into the room in a scuttling mess of legs not fit for movement on solid ground, and Daymar was only a step behind her—mug brandished as if a weapon. The most impressive had been the fact that he’d silenced the ex-Herder and then gone on ahead without him. In many ways—at least the few he could see with his head firmly dropped into one large palm—perhaps the bonding with the bug has been a good thing for the man. The last time there had been trouble, Daymar had sent word to his room-mate and then simply stood down by the lake waiting: Of course everyone knew what good had come of that.

”I feel rather like a kept woman, waiting out there for my gallant knight and his—steed—to fix the day’s problem. What am I looking at, what new tragedy has befallen?” The dripping sarcasm in his voice was paired with the absolute mirth spread across his face, but he did his best to muster full seriousness when his eyes fell onto the tunnelsnake. Well…mostly serious. Of course it had been Xiro’el; his blood-brother would stop at nothing to tease Daymar, not after the Trader had fallen victim to one too many muggings. Literal muggings. With a mug. Crackdust and shards the blasted Candidate had a mug now, where did he even find these mugs? ”It may have been Sigard, he likes to have a night-time snack. You know, the Blue firelizard I bonded with—that I’ve told you about, multiple times now.”

Watching this entire event with interest, and listening attentively to the words as they were spoken, Sebol found himself becoming somewhat exasperated with his slightly neurotic friend—and his equally neurotic bug. Leaning down he snatched up the dead tunnelsnake and then returned his own words to Daymar, waggling the half-chewed creature at the man as he spoke—emphasizing his words. ”Don’t you threaten me, Daymar, I’ve offered you the truth on multiple occasions and you refuse to believe it. While this likely is one of my firelizards’ doing, it does not mean that the Trader is out to get you, and you can certainly go to Atenna if you like, but she isn’t going to listen to you over me. She also isn’t going to assume that I allowed the innocent slaughter of an animal, nor will there even be innocent slaughters of animals—does this look like an innocent animal to you?”

With another flick of the tunnelsnake he snorted softly. ”These things are likely to bite your eyes out of your skull while you’re sleeping, which I will remind you no firelizard—or pillie—has done. Did you ever consider that it might have wandered into the room and one of the firelizards killed it to protect us and then left it as an offering to their bonded? Animals do that. Perhaps your Grey will bring you fish or other such things—maybe her offerings involve blood covered implements of destruction. Either way. You need to seriously reconsider your stance on this entire thing.” With that he promptly turned on his heel, slung the snake over his shoulder, and made for the hallway—at which point both twins appeared above his head chattering in confusion at his discontent.

”Actually, it could be them, Daymar.” Sebol responded firmly, stopping in the doorway to turn back toward the man. ”They’ve been trained to open doors. Perhaps they understand better than you that you are bonded to the pillies, and they’re allowing her to be with you. As for the tunnelsnakes, you are right, they would probably be under my bed and it could possibly be Xiro’el’s doing. I will speak with him about it—the last thing I want is one of them rotting, though your Grey seems to have that covered.” Eyes casting down the open hallway he gave a soft sigh before resigning himself to more of the same.

The flits were beside themselves with curiosity, and anger, it must have been the greything that had upset their bonded so. It must have been. She ruined everything! Everything. Well, that was what Avsiran thought. Sigard simply fluttered to the shoulder of his bonded and sat there inspecting Daymar with cold eyes: He knew there was something his brother and otherbonded did not like about this man, and there was little trust or love there for the man. Perhaps if they had been allowed to interact, but of course Daymar would have none of that. Avsiran, on the other hand, had decided that he wanted to play with the greything, so he landed beside her and did his right best to touch her before she could get him: Tag, you're it!

”I have told you that it is the firelizards, I cannot be certain if it is Xiro’el, but I will speak with him. Have you apologized for attacking him with a mug on three separate occasions as well as blaming him for everything that’s happened to you—such as the pillies. You’re poised to Impress a dragon in several moons time, Daymar, are you going to blame Impression on Xiro’el as well? You receive things from the bug, do you not? That isn’t a bond that can be forced. If he is harassing you I will do my best to put an end to it, but it must be mutual.” Stars above knew if the man continued to chase his blood-brother with a mug there would only ever be tricks and agony; there was also a very good chance the Trader wouldn’t give one whit about this ‘discussion’ they would be having, but that could always change.

Avsiran was unperturbed, and certainly not as stupid as her tiny grey brain assumed. When she coiled he batted at her playfully but retreated as she uncoiled, no one could have said who would come out the victor there as Daymar’s hands swept her away. Snorting, Avsiran took a great leap from the floor and thudded against Sebol’s chest audibly—his eyes were casting daggers at the Daymarman, the one his bonded did not like, and the greything—his prize—which had been stolen from him. Sebolaren quieted him with a mental touch and then gave his room-mate his attention.

”He didn’t push you, Daymar. You beg my understanding and belief yet refuse to extend that token in return. I was there when it happened, as I’ve told you.” One large hand swept to his shoulder and neatly collected Sigard to his fist even as he stepped back into the room toward Daymar; his hand returned to the air between them as he extended the firelizard to the man. ”Sigard saw all of it, would you like to see the images from that day? They are the ones who saved your life, if they hadn’t come for me you would have drowned in less than four inches of water and that would have been the end of you. You fainted because you insisted on wrapping yourself in ten layers of clothing. There was no foul play. You attacked him three times, once for no other reason than your own assumption, and he is repaying you in kind.”

”I am defending neither of you, as far as I am concerned you’re both wherry-brained dimglows acting fools likely to get caught by Thread and devoured whole, but you need to see the truth in what I’m telling you. So he’s thrown some tunnelsnakes in the room—you think he tried to kill you. Thread is coming, Daymar; an event that is going to change our lives from now until the day we die. Many of us aren’t going to see the end of this next Turn, most of us will never see the end of the Pass, and you’re consuming yourself with things you refuse to see. You’re smarter than this. I will talk to him, as I am talking to you now. This is beyond ridiculous and I expect better of you both. “

Allowing Sigard to return to his perch, Sebol dropped his hand back to his side where it found purchase on his hip. Even as he drew in a long breath he realized he didn’t possess much more patience for this mess, but he would find a way to summon it if necessary—it was better than the inevitable. ”Xiro’el is going to be in your life until Thread takes one of you, or unless he— faltering for a moment, Sebol shook his head and then continued pointedly. ”You will be a Dragonrider, you will possibly be Wingmates; one day you might fl—” Throwing his hands up in exasperation at having nearly no way to make his point, he turned around and sat on his bed, head going into his hands. ”Either work through it, or become a bitter man wishing death one someone for the rest of your life, Daymar.”