Seeing Silver [Basile]

[Sakoru]

Khemres was surprised that he hadn't fallen into the river. It had taken him nearly an hour to get to the river from the barracks, crashing and tripping as he had, and now he stood at the edge, staring down at the shining water. It gurgled its friendly greetings to him, but he didn't answer, instead watching the flashes of silver from the moon above. The river was safe. The river was oblivious to his thoughts, and so it couldn't laugh at him. Couldn't mock him the way the vast Sands had seemed to when he left them earlier that night after the Hatching.

I can't believe it...they didn't even look at me, his inner voice screamed, raging, unwilling to believe that he really hadn't been good enough. Something black and cold sank wicked fangs into his heart, dragging his spirits to the bottom of the equally black river. In response, it only leaped and roared, rushing past his feet in an obsidian cascade. "The only one left Standing."

Like a final, deadly truth, it seemed to tug at the back of his mind, and finally the albino ripped off his hat, clutching it so hard in his good left hand that the knuckles ached. Staring up at the laughingly clear sky, he gritted his teeth, trying to force himself to accept the fact that he hadn't been chosen. So what? He would Stand again, and he'd probably be picked. There had just been so many candidates that the whers couldn't be bothered with --- NO! Don't even start like that or you'll never stop! Khemres warned himself, and forced his thoughts away from that dark path. Still, he bit his tongue violently, eyes burning, and stared at the silvery blotch of the moon, high above him. He was surprised he could even see it, actually. Something that small could be visible to him only because it was so bright against the dark of the atmosphere. Stars were altogether invisible to the albino's faulty sight. Moonlight hurt his eyes enough, but tonight he didn't shield himself against its brilliance.

"No, it wasn't my fault. Don't even think those things or you really won't be worth a wher's time. It was one Hatching. You'll see another, you'll Impress, and things will be fine," the candidate told himself, though he could feel his throat beginning to close up. Not Impressing wasn't worth crying over. Not even to him. Or at least, he liked to tell himself that. But in the back of his mind, Khemres knew he was a liar. Failing to be picked - being the only one not to be picked - was worth crying over. He just wouldn't. Couldn't. "Cause if you start, you won't stop. And what'll you do then, Khemres? Scream, too, like that thing in your mind? Oh no, you're not going to cry. You're - not - going - TO CRY!"

Well, shards. It seemed he really was lying to himself, for vicious tears burned the albino's violet eyes, and he shut them. The cold breeze at his back blew through his clothes with ease, chilling him, but he didn't care. It tossed his white hair around his face, but he didn't care about that, either. They were things to focus on, things that gave him no reason to cry. His hat hung forgotten at his side, letting the world see his pathetic strangeness if it wanted to. Faranth, he didn't care. He tried to make himself believe he didn't.

[basile]

She wasn't try to pry. Really she wasn't. It was simply the fact that, for once, Bobeth was quiet, and it was such a nice night out tonight that Cilnah had decided to take a moonlit stroll. She'd allowed her feet to wander, as well as her mind. So really, it was quite a surprise when she heard the voice that seemed to float out of the darkness. Of course, even in her daze, it was easy to detect the sadness in the tone. Her head tilted, and the words filtered through her mind. One left standing? Oh, the wher eggs must have hatched recently. She'd have to congratulate Risk and her handler next time she was down wandering the caverns.

Well, she certainly wasn't going to pry. Maybe it was one of the person's friends who'd been left standing? There was no telling, really, but she wasn't going to intrude. There was a reason they were out here in the middle of nowhere so late at night. Unlike herself. She turned, intending to back-track away from the river, allowing whoever it was their privacy, but another drifting of words stopped her after only a few steps. Ohhhhh.... That explained everything, didn't it? He had been the one left standing. Cilnah certainly knew the pain of that, yes she did. She'd been left standing quite a few times herself. It never really go easier, but the first time was the hardest. And from the sounds of it, this was the poor boy's first time, and left there alone, no less. That was horrid.

Against her better judgment, the girl slowly turned and headed back towards the river, allowing her feet to drag so that she'd make some noise in the darkness, aware that when she didn't try she moved quite silently. In a moment she was within sight of the river, and paused to look at the unusual silvery hair that was the first thing she spotted. Maybe it was just the moonlight that made it that color. Either way, she thought it oddly cute. Endearing in some sort of way. Shaking her head to rid herself of the thought, she moved forward again, arriving at the edge of the water just as her unwitting companion commanded himself not to cry. A small smile crossed the Rider's lips at that.

"It's alright to cry, you know," she said softly, her eyes out over the water. "Being left on the sands, with all those happy people and hatchling rambling off to start some new wonderful life together, knowing that none of the babies in those eggs thought you were worthy of them? Yeah, that hurts." It was obvious she spoke from experience. Being left standing wasn't really something you could describe to someone. You could only understand it if you'd had it happen to you. "Crying because of it doesn't make you weak or anything. Heck, I cried every time I was left out there. It just means you're human. It means you have a heart that can be hurt, sometimes even more easily than the body that protects it."

[Sakoru]

Khemres stared hard at the sky, determined not to let the tears through, but they were winning. And a voice cut into his thoughts just as the first ones fell, making his cheeks burn so violently crimson they hurt. Horrified that he'd been caught, the candidate lifted an arm and swiped at the tears, back as rigid as it could get for just a moment. Then his shoulders fell, and he turned to stare at the dark blob of the new figure, wondering if he could speak. You have to try. And he did, though his voice sounded dangerously close to breaking, even to him. "It isn't. I don't..."

Didn't want to, or didn't cry, he wondered? Even to himself, he didn't know how to finish the hanging sentence, and knowing he didn't know only made him want to cry more. Khemres turned away again, staring at the water, trying to clench his crippled hand and welcoming the pain it sent stabbing through his arm. He couldn't cry...not in front of someone he barely knew! Didn't know at all, come to think of it.

But wait. She was speaking like she'd been left out there herself, and slowly the candidate turned back to her, more tears escaping and rushing down his face to dapple his moonlit shirt. "How...how many times were you...left Standing?" he asked quietly, clenching his bad hand so hard to redirect the pain that he nearly cried out. So hard, in fact, that he couldn't keep it up and had to let the crooked fingers fall back to their half-curled, almost unnatural positions. "Were you alone out there too?"

None of the babies in those eggs thought you were worthy of them. That hit the nail right on the head as Khemres thought about it, and he viciously clenched his mangled right hand again, gasping as the old pain lanced through his arm again. For whatever reason, it seemed like he could maybe, maybe trust this person not to laugh at him. She seemed to know what it was like to be rejected by every hatchling born. Did she know what it was like to be ordered away by the mother, and then realize you were the only one being ordered away from her and her two dud eggs? He thought she might...but suddenly he didn't want her to. Desperately wishing he were the only one to feel like this, so that other people didn't have to hurt too, he stared fiercely at the silver shines on the river. He didn't even seem to notice his white hair blowing around his face. Tonight, he didn't care if people knew what he was. "I don't want to have a heart that can be hurt. I wish I'd been mauled instead," the candidate said, and now his eyes watered for a new reason. The bold scars on his hand lanced dark across the pale skin, stretching so painfully tight that the tears fell for that pain instead of the worse, new one. Finally it grew to be too much, and he let go again with a soft cry, staring down at the scarred hand. He'd been mauled before, though he hadn't been Standing, and he far preferred it to the horrible rejection of Standing alone. "...Did you...did you Impress, eventually? Do you have a...a..." Wher? A dragon? The question was obviously an open one, with the words just a little too cruel for Khemres to force out of his own throat yet. Crying didn't make him weak - she'd told him that - but he felt miserable at the tears now raging in a waterfall down his cheeks, hoping she wasn't looking at him. His eyes hurt from the light and the tears, but he didn't put his hat back on. He didn't really revel in the pain, but it was like a little haven he could hide in, pretending it hurt him more than the Hatching had. Only pretending, but he told himself it was true. What else could he do?

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[basile]

A small smile of understanding flickered across her features. Didn't want to cry. Didn't want to feel the need to cry. That was a familiar feeling, yes it was. So was the small part of self-loathing, the part that wondered just what exactly was wrong with you that you weren't good enough for any of them. She kept her eyes on the water out of respect for the boy, and slowly nodded as he quietly asked her how many times she'd been left standing. "Four times for Queen cluthes," she answered a bit ruefully, shaking her head a bit. "Oh, there were several others, smaller clutches of one or two eggs that I never bothered to really remember, but yeah, there were lots. The single egg clutches where the egg was a dud weren't so bad, really. But there's always the exceptions to those times." Suddenly her tone took on a slightly bitter tone. Cilnah knew she was rambling, but for some reason she really didn't feel like it was a bad thing in this case.

Before she continued, a small sigh pushed it's way from her chest and she turned to study her companion. The tear tracks were visible in the moonlight, but she didn't mention it. There was no need, he was feeling poorly enough as it was. "You ask if I've been left standing alone? Well, I'll have to answer yes to that, as much as it shames me. It was a small clutch though, only two eggs. There were only two of us that day," she added, her voice taking on the slightly dream like quality that people got when sharing a memory. "Two eggs, two candidates. Seemed pretty good to me. The first egg hatched, a little Green who Impressed to the other person, and the other egg was still. We all thought it was a dud until a little Black spilled out onto the sands." The girl frowned, still finding pain in the memory. "He took one look at me, screeched angrily and betweened. I was, oh, I think about sixteen by then."

Her head shook again. There really wasn't anything else to say to that, and she was silent for quite a long time, lost in her own thoughts. She did, however, notice the sharp gasps and small sounds of pain that were coming from the boy, and looked at him a bit curiously. Then she caught herself, realizing she was being rude, and turned her eyes back to the water. It was a long time before her trance was broken by his next question. Had she Impressed? It was only then that a true smile graced her lips. "Yes, I finally did Impress. At Kalith's last clutch actually. My Bobeth is such a pretty little Cyan, the same color of the rolling ocean. Seven turns I waited for her to come into this world. And yeah, it was a hard wait. But it was worth it. I think yours will be worth the wait too, if you have the patience and the strength."

[Sakoru]

Khemres had the abrupt feeling that he might be sick when he heard the girl's disheartening reply. His gaze was fixed hard on the river now, the tears slowly starting to fall though he didn't want them to. "Four Queen clutches...?" he whispered, turning to face the comforting presence with a stricken look on his face. "But that's...that's so many..."

So many he wasn't sure he'd survive if he Stood that many times and failed every one. Standing for a clutch of only a couple of eggs wouldn't be so bad, he thought, at least if there were other candidates also Standing with you. You couldn't be left Standing all alone and feel ashamed if the reason the eggs didn't hatch was because they were duds, after all. He listened in semi-horrified silence as she went on. Part of her story, "I'll have to answer yes to that, as much as it shames me," made him feel as though he'd been stabbed in the heart, but he made no sound except the soft cries as he tortured his hand. Still, his pale violet eyes were wide as the girl explained how the hatchling had shrieked at the sight of her and betweened. She'd been sixteen, she said. He was seventeen. "That's horrible...! He...he betweened just looking at you...?"

But how? How could any dragon possibly think this apparently kind girl wasn't worthy of them? She wasn't like him, pathetic and so hopeful he felt as though he'd been shoved off a mountain when he was left. Still...it was a terrible story, and Khemres didn't know whether it lightened his heart a little, or dragged it down lower knowing that something so terrible could actually happen. Outright rejection hadn't happened to him, after all, as he hadn't even been looked at. Perhaps anonymity was better than that kind of shunning, though. Definitely was, in fact. Just thinking about being hated so much made the wher candidate's head ache and his eyes burn.

They were both silent now, he watching her, and she staring at the river. At last Khemres had stopped clenching his hand just to feel the pain, and he gently rubbed the aching fingers, tucking his hat under one arm. There was no point putting it on to hide himself now that she'd already seen him cry. Or at least, he thought she had...she hadn't called him out on the tear tracks leading down his cheeks, so maybe she hadn't noticed. Hopefully she hadn't noticed, though he wouldn't bet on it.

Replaying the recent Hatching over and over again in his head, Khemres tried to figure out what he'd done wrong. Had the wherets just been too interested in the others to look at him? Or had the albino actually repulsed them so that they didn't want to look at him? Unable to tell, he turned instead to the gentle voice of the girl, trying to banish the ugly thoughts from his head. "Yes, I finally did Impress."

That gave him a little heart. At least she'd been picked eventually...eventually. Maybe he'd be picked too, by a young wher willing to entrust its fragile life to him. Like the girl's Bobeth, the cyan who was allegedly so beautiful. A small, wavering smile appeared on Khemres' face, and he sniffed, lifting a wrist to swipe across his face. Without any kind of warning, he suddenly spoke, mulling over her words in his mind. "Could I...could I maybe meet her sometime? Bobeth?" He paused, and went on, hopeful voice dropping almost to a whisper again. Fresh tears burned his eyes, but he looked intently up at the sky, making them stay where they belonged: inside. "I...I don't know if I can...but if you could do it, I'll try too," he said softly. It surprised him that he was able to speak so freely (for him, anyway) of how he felt. Usually he'd bottle it up until he was totally alone and then either cry, or force himself not to through the endless, repetitive torment he inflicted upon his crippled hand. Maybe there's a little wher out there for me, too. Or will be...a green, or something small. I just want to be picked. And maybe he would be, someday. Even if it took a dozen Hatchings (Faranth, please no!), perhaps one little wher would like him. Just one. He only needed one.

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