Difference between revisions of "Logs:Everyone Loses"

In the end, it made a sickening amount of sense. From point a to point b to point c, all in a matter of moments: everything, suddenly clear.

Aishani Vijay. Her name was not familiar to him, but the family name; oh yes, he knew that all too well. Remembered all too well the events of twelve turns before; remembered how sickened he'd felt after the hanging, but also, too, how relieved that it was over.

He'd been seventeen turns old, still so new to his leadership-- not that he was attempting to explain away or excuse anything.

They'd stolen from his people. Deliberately and methodically, their own petty form of revenge. Of course they'd done something about it. Any leader who didn't would be-- it would be stupid.

No doubt, he told himself, the Vijays had suffered in the aftermath. Of course they had. But they'd brought it on themselves, too: you don't go around stealing from other people and then expect everything to go swimmingly forever.

What else were they supposed to do?

And now... he found himself pacing his weyr, throughout much of the day, all the way into the evening.

He did feel pity for her. She must have been little more than a child when it happened, and yet it was obvious she'd been carrying it so close to herself, this desire for... he found himself wondering why she hadn't attempted to destroy the Weyr.

Perhaps she had. Perhaps she would.

What a waste of a life.

The thing was, maybe she felt like she'd won, now, but she hadn't. The real thing was that no one had won: no one could win.

It was just such a damned waste.

He felt like he ought to be angry with her, he realised, late into the evening, when he'd drunk more than he probably ought to have, spent far too much time thinking back to those somehow simpler days.

He wasn't, though.

His first reaction, after shock, had been pity, and pity it remained.

She thought she'd won, no doubt, but she hadn't.

Everyone loses.