Logs:Shaken
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| RL Date: 18 October, 2015 |
| Who: Lycinea |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: After Niahvth and Cadejoth's eggs hatch, Lycinea escapes the crowds and has a bad moment. |
| Where: Somewhere in High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 1, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions, Jocelyn/Mentions, Rh'mis/Mentions |
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| When the dragons hummed together, the vibration could be felt through the stone. Lycinea felt it, even if some might not. The thrum made her tremble as her robe was donned and as her feet fell in with the others shuffling or striding toward the sands. Only, when it was over, when the dragons were silent, when there was the mixture of surprise-not-surprise and muted grief for the three eggs that didn't hatch, she could still feel it. Her hands still trembled. She could feel it coming and knew she had to get away. Away from people, away from sands and heat, just away. She walked, then ran, not thinking, turning whenever she saw a person to wherever was away. It was a mistake. It was dark. With every breath she could feel the closeness of the rock around her. Every breath made it feel closer. It should've been comforting, like an embrace from the very bedrock of her home. Instead, her hand shook, she shook. Terror lanced through whatever courage had seen her through and onto the sands. She hadn't wanted to step onto the sands; she couldn't ignore that truth, the one that only came clear when the dragons began to hum and she knew she would have to. She couldn't-- wouldn't dishonor her Weyrwoman by having accepted Search and then not Standing for Niahvth's eggs. So she'd gone. She'd been relieved and ashamed when there was no hatchling stumbling toward her. Relieved, ashamed and confused. The whole experience was overwhelming, and perhaps that's why she'd had to run when she got far enough away to not draw too much attention. It was reasonable, she imagined; she wouldn't be the first, she imagined. A girl upset by not Impressing, a girl who's too much of a coward to do anything other than turn in her white knot and choose not to face the sands again when the remaining eggs hatched. A coward. Hadn't she already run from this fear? From the sky falling on her and no one caring all over again? Hadn't that been exactly why she'd spent a turn away? To conquer these fears, to come back stronger. To-- 1... She counted, forcing her breath to slow, to ease from the hiccuping labored wheezing into something more even. 2... She fought through the threat of oxygen-deprived darkness threatening to take her, however momentarily, to bring to mind pictures of wide open skies, touched with glittering stars and the crisp clear smell of night air. 3... She clutched one hand over her shoulder to where this familiar path had been permanently placed into her skin, her pattern: the rock crumbles, the sky falls, it falls and falls in beautiful, terrifying chaos and from it comes direction, choices. She has choices. She counted the rest of the way to ten, repeating that last: I have choices. She told herself this was natural. It wasn't comfortable to feel this way but it was natural after everything she'd been through. She chose to leave and then she chose to return. She chose to try to fit into her old mold and found it a poor fit. She chose to accept Rosvelth and still didn't really know why beyond some tiny hope that someone, somewhere, in some egg?, would know where she belonged, where she should be, what she should be doing. It was stupid. A child's dream. She sat up; her hand was still shaking. It wasn't about a dragon. She'd not dreamed of that, but it was about the dream she'd so candidly recapped to Jocelyn. Not for a mother and father, it was too late for that, but for a home where she was loved. Dumb. Dumb, maybe, but not a dream she was ready to give up on. She stared at her hand. She has choices and she would make this one. She would choose, this time, not to be the coward, not to run away. Her hand stopped shaking. She would keep her knot and Stand again. |
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