Aftermath [Bre]

[kyrillion]

In the time since Tesla had bonded to Irath, she had been forced to maintain a stricter hold on reality than she was accustomed to; it had been necessary to reign in her imagination, rather than let it run wild, for she could hardly afford to not pay attention when so much about her relationship with her dragon had always been about control. About testing boundaries and struggling for dominance, when a turn and a half later it was still unclear who would emerge the victor. And yet, two days prior, that hold on the here and now, tenuous as it was, had been broken. Her mind in turmoil and N'tal's words to her burning through her memory, Tesla had fled the dining hall and the celebration, braving darkness and rain and mud to reach her weyr. The shadows around her had seemed to morph and grow, becoming indistinct figures that threw themselves at one another, clashing and fighting and chasing her through the grass. They nipped at her heels, cackling maniacally into the night, testament to her sudden relapse and stirring Irath into more of a frenzy. As she ran, the rain had became dozens of sheets of glass scattered throughout the bowl, each one reflecting a different memory: finding Irath and Gulath covered in flour in the middle of a thoroughly ransacked kitchen; her first flight with her dragon, terrifying and exhilarating; the eve of the fight with the Renegades, when N'tal had stormed her weyr, frantic and seeming almost to be worried about her. Some of these mirrors faded harmlessly away as she careened by them, breaking back up into droplets of water that fell harmlessly, spilling colors and sounds, to the ground. Some of them placed themselves like walls in front of her, and shattered into millions of ragged pieces as she broke through them, her only conscious though to get to her weyr as soon as possible. To find that letter that he'd left for her, hoping in vain to find something therein that would contradict all that she'd heard. Something that would vindicate him and make everything all right again. And all the while Irath had circled high above the bowl, screaming her anger and outrage.

Needless to say, when the newly-graduated rider at last reached her weyr and found the envelope, lying innocently atop her desk with her name scrawled hastily across the front, it hadn't at all been what she was looking for. There was nothing contained within to replenish her spirits or justify her hope, nothing to defend N'tal's actions or justify him – in her eyes, or in anyone else's. If anything, it was all the more troubling because it read like a declaration of love, and it all ended up distressing her even more than the scene at the feast. Suddenly there were tears streaming down her cheeks, and she wasn't sure when she'd started crying.

Irath eventually returned to the weyr, and thereafter refused to be removed more than a foot or two from her rider. Her thoughts were filled with grisly images of what she intended to do to N'tal if she ever saw him again, and anything she said to try and console her rider was rife with insults and threats to the bluerider. She was quite unaware that this only made Tesla feel worse, and it was several hours before the green realized that N'tal's hasty departure had robbed her of a friend as well. There was no telling if or when she would see that gluttonous Gulath again, and this only redoubled her hatred for his rider. And Tesla, though aware that she would eventually need to talk her dragon off the warpath if she ever wanted to see the bluepair again, couldn't work herself up to it just yet no matter how hard she tried.

It was a full day before Tesla felt up to leaving her weyr again, and then another day before she began to seriously contemplate it. Not because N'tal's departure had thrown her into a fit of despair, or any such thing (though, to be sure, she was far from feeling like her cheerful self), but because she had wanted to give herself ample time to process what his leaving meant, and how she felt about it. How she felt about him, even, because his letter had only reminded her of that kiss on the cheek. She finally had proof of the nature of his feelings towards her (or close to it, anyway), and now she needed to figure out what that meant for her. Did she reciprocate? It felt like it, at times – but now that she really needed to talk to him, spend some time around him and feel things out, it was no longer an option. And now that she really gave it some thought, she wasn't sure how his leaving could have come as such a surprise. Rationally, it was the only logical conclusion – how could she have missed it?

By the time Tesla had come to the conclusion that thinking things through was getting her nowhere fast, and that she really needed to talk with someone, Irath had finally exhausted herself and fallen asleep. The incident, in making Tesla feel vulnerable, had made Irath defensive, and she'd taken her role as guard very seriously, going so far as to forgo her couch and curl up around her rider's sleeping furs - nevermind that the threat wasn't physical, wasn't anything she could fight. And so, managing a small smile when the army-colored green began to snore, the gangly rider crawled quietly out of bed and tiptoed from the room. A change of clothes and a comb later, and she was padding softly out into the hallway and wondering who she ought to seek out to confide in. She didn't want to lay her problems on anyone else, but she couldn't keep running things through her again and again, either. Someone had once told her, though she no longer remembered who, that the definition of crazy was doing something over and over again and expecting a different outcome; she may not have been the most grounded, down-to-earth person on Pern, but Tesla certainly didn't want to be called crazy.

And so she meandered out into the bowl, looking a bit out-of-place, or perhaps a bit lost. Her usual smile was conspicuously absent, but she felt strangely refreshed in the sunlight and the chilly air. She was on a mission! She needed to find someone she was familiar with, someone she knew well enough to be comfortable around. It would certainly help if that someone new a bit about the situation already; had met N'tal before, or was there to see his dramatic exit two nights ago. So she stood, bare-foot in the bowl, and cast about for a familiar face. The first one she spotted was Kerath.

Perfect! She wasn't sure W'al would be in a mood to humor her – after all, he wasn't her weyrlingmaster any longer. Still, it was worth a shot. And so, padding forward, she slowly made her way over to the purple. “It's a lovely morning, isn't it, Kerath? It's actually sunny! Still a bit cold out, I think – though you probably don't think so, you didn't forget your coat on your way out the weyr – oh, nevermind that. I would very much like to have a word with your rider, if that's quite all right with you.”

[Admin]

The cool wind is taking over,
It’s taking over,
So far away,
You’re gone so long.

Kerath sat as a sentinel, lounging stiffly on the bowl floor. It was an odd role for him, but he was determined to keep his vigil. If Gulath returned, he wanted to know about it. The blue had been foolish to leave. Despite his firm resolve, he didn't look particularly sad or put off. He was optimistic that things would work out. After all, the fallout of the young blue and his rider's disappearance had been rather lackluster. With the purple's rider soothing any fears and keeping rumors down, there was nothing for anyone but a select few to talk about. He sat with composure as he continued to act as a guard, tail flicking on occasion when he grew bored. He had nothing else to do. His rider was up in their weyr, thinking about things that the purple didn't bother to pry into. Their weyrlings had graduated, leaving him without a job. Shifting, he rustled his wings.

Someone spoke after he had returned to his stone-like sitting. The sound of a voice made the slender purple turn his head. He had been watching the sky, not the ground. At the sight of Tesla, he brightened, not having previously quite identified her familiar voice. He rumbled a happy greeting to her, not bothering to answer her conversational questions, keeping his mind and thunk words to himself. Without Irath in tow, it was nice to see her. In fact, even if Irath had come, it would have been nice. He got right onto her request, poking at his rider's mind to get his attention. W'al, Irath's rider wants to speak to you. He gave Tesla a happy croon in order to tell her that he had called his rider and that she just needed to wait. While he wouldn't have minded speaking to her, it seemed rude and unneeded. After all, her green was quite protective of her.

I'll be down in just a second then. Get ready. Up in their weyr, W'al shifted the piece of hide he'd been making a series of very careful notes on to the side. He stood and stretched, cracking his back. Ugh, he was getting old. He chuckled quietly to himself and his dragon. Kerath offered Teslana a laugh of a croon and then turned his back towards the sky, watching for something. All of a sudden, W'al appeared on their ledge, silhouetted by Rukbat in the sky. He paused for the briefest second at the edge of the shelf, a shadow against the rock. Then he jumped, flinging himself off of the ledge with the yell and a shout. He pinwheeled his arms for a second, adjusting his body in the air, and then he fell like a rock, plummeting straight for the ground. With a bugle, Kerath launched himself in the air, snapping his wings open and circling up to his rider.

The purple caught his rider with ease and they descended to the ground with a few lazy wingstrokes. Once his dragon landed, W'al slipped off his back. "You needed to speak to me?" He said as came to stand in front of her, hands on his hips. He was breathless but happy, a wide smile on his face and his twinkle in his eyes. Touches of sharpness and stress could be seen on his face, but they were mostly lost in his happiness. Optimistic, hopeful, and joyful, the recent events that had happened at the Weyr saddened him but they could not destroy him. He would continue to have his fun. He would continue to jump off of ledges if he felt like jumping off ledges. Curious as to why she needed to speak to him, amusement falling away to some concern, he tilted his head at her. Behind him, Kerath crooned happily, a silly, soft, little song for himself.

Haunted by your grace,
The beauty of falling, falling,
It echoes through my days,
I still hear you calling.