Logs:Loyalty & Sides Chosen
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 14 February, 2013 |
| Who: Ceawlin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: A dangerous game of playing too many sides. |
| Where: Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 13, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Xhaeon/Mentions |
 |
| Slam. The sound of a book dropping to the floor snaps me out of thoughts of the past, phantoms of feelings past swirling through my thoughts. My heart races, forgetting where I am, and I expect to see the cold face of my Instructor looming above me. Featureless, nondescript, a master at blending into the crowd. Nondescript brown eyes and hair, nothingness face; I strongly suspected he dulled and dyed his hair. Sometimes, hints of another color would appear at the roots. It is not the man who picked me from the crowd of ten-turn-olds and turned me into his apprentice. It is not the man who tied me to a chair to teach a child how to not fidget. How to sit still and calculate when it was so against my nature. Or was against. Now it is all I can do. Loyalty, bought and paid for by a craft that took in an unwanted child. It showed me music, a place to escape to. Even with the distaste for the sound of my voice, talent in the making of music was mine by birth. Hidden by desire to not excel too quickly, as instructed by my Mentor. I am my craft's eyes and ears, the whisper of secrets that flow on current gossip; Were I to choose, I know which side I would play my hand with, and which side I would play against. Two masters drive me, two differing ideas but with one solid goal: They do not want to see a female as Weyrleader, the Weyrwoman in this is inconsequential as they see it. One Weyrwoman is as good as any, though preference leans to she who is the most pliable. An epic tale it would be, but the crumbling infrastructure might not survive. Xhaeon would appreciate that analogy, I think. No man should serve two masters, and yet here I am. Playing both sides of the Hall, playing both sides of the weyr, playing too many hands to keep everything straight. Who would you pick? The question is a shark amongst the blood of thoughts, chewing away at the maybes and the what-ifs and the what-nots. I know who I would pick.
Yet, it is a lie, for if loyalty is tested, I am a Harper and my opinions are those of my craft. But, when all the cards are up in the air, which side of the Hall will I land on? Which master will I serve? Only time will tell. It is time, then, to compose another song. Send another message. I pick up the stylus, the hide, and begin composing. A merry tune, this time, of nothing important. Nothing to the untrained eye, anyway. As always, just in case, I run through the contingency plans. Always, and ever, prepared. It is what he would expect. It is what was drilled into me. |
Leave A Comment