Logs:Reflections
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| RL Date: 9 August, 2015 |
| Who: Alida, Ilicaeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Alida reflects, ruminates on Lilah and Eliyaveith's 'disappearance.' |
| When: Day 1, Month 7, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Warm; cloudless skies. Comfortable. |
| It wasn't odd at *all* to have any dragonrider - even an Acting Weyrwoman - off everyone's radar for hours...or even a day. Privacy and time away from everybody was something nearly every human (and perhaps even dragon) experienced at some time in their life. And then a day became two, turned into three... Silence, lack of communication...not as absolute as death, but just as chilling, filled not only those from Fort, but even some from other Weyrs. Others like Alida and Ilicaeth. When the blue had time away from their duties, he (and often times, his rider as well) mentally and physically scoured every haunt that Lilah and Eliyaveith might have favored, or even been the faintest hint interested in, whether North or South. The relentless pair sent out thought and inquires like mold tendrils insinuating themselves into their 'host,' no stone (or personality of any interest) left unturned. It all ended on the fifth day, with the burly blue dragon and his pale rider taken to task by their Taiga Wingleader for over-extending themselves and thus showing up to drills in beyond assed-out condition. Sent back to their weyr and ordered to stay in-Weyr only for a 24 hours (along with a stinging, if heartfelt reprimand) to recover, the blonde and her dragon curled up again with one another in Ilicaeth's wallow to try and grasp at the straws of meaning...when there wasn't much of it. « I didn't feel Eli pass... » Go Between. Unlike the time when affected by Hraedhyth's untimely death, *this* time the blue was left in a nebulous fog of pain. There was no instant feeling of 'nothingness,' no acute wrench of keenest loss. It didn't much matter than Eliyaveith was Fortian, and he 'Reachian: he felt close to the gold from mutual ties of respect, warmth, and friendship that went beyond simple enjoyment of sharing good times. Like dragon, like rider: Alida didn't have the horrific aftermath of the finality of Azaylia's fiery death cleanly etched into her mind, nor the keening of hundreds of dragons to let her *know* that this end was absolutely FINAL. Lilah and Eliyaveith were gone...but not quite utterly so. The fourth day, all the bluepair could do was sleep most of the day, eat just enough to keep bodily functions going...and sit in their weyr thinking way too damned much between bouts. The fifth, sixth days were spent, by unpleasant, but practical necessity, doing their riderly duties, and tending to the other things (like dragonhealing and transporting spiced rum from the South to those who wanted it in the North), Ilicaeth subdued and pensive, Alida withdrawn and chill, much like she'd been when first coming to the Weyr. And finally, on the seventh day, the two of them bowed with not much grace to the inevitable. Appearing from Between over Fort Weyr's skies with a bare recitation of their names and their good intent, Ilicaeth and Alida soon landed in the Bowl, the blue cautiously moving them forward on his feet until he was just outside of the gold's home weyr...his eye color pale and liberally splotched with the grey of mourning. He only allowed his head and neck to enter where the dragon couch was, watching as the now-dismounted Alida very rigidly, formally stepped deeper within. Both remembered the antiseptic whiteness of the walls of Lilah's part of the abode, just as they instantly recognized the smaller painting upon canvas that perfectly echoed the larger one that was so much a part of Ilicaeth's couch wall, as well. With a small lump in her throat that developed in time to the low, sad groan that her blue allowed to crawl up from his lungs to throat, the blonde strode farther into her absent friend's weyr, cleanly looked around until she found what she was looking for: that not-so-long ago gift of ceramic egg that held within it the brass likeness of a curled up and just-hatched golden dragonet... the perfect outcome from the fears a warped egg engendered. Taeliyth... who was now one of very, very few, precious 15 offspring the queen left behind. The trinket was still nestled in the wrought-wooden box it has come in, and it was within such that the bluerider secured the gift that was once meant to bouy Lilah in a time of deep concern, then nesteling it quietly into the large satchel at her shoulder. « Don' ferget... » Was all that Ilicaeth needed to sigh out to shake his lifemate from her preoccupation with the thoughts and feelings this place brought to her mind. Back out Alida strode, out into Eliyaveith's couch, and there - with the gentle, cautious aid of her blue and miniature golden Pyrite - proceeded to take down that painting of blue-and-golden tower with twin suns of gold and blue. Take it down, and quietly tuck the framed and glass-covered canvas beneath her free arm before the woman turned her back for the last time, and strode back out to her solemn dragon. Not long after, the bluepair were once more in the air, winking Between only a hundred feet above the Bowl, re-emerging back above High Reaches Weyr... still with that lingering sense of loss - and lack of closure - fully intact. |
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