Difference between revisions of "Logs:Of Fears"

You stride down the flight of steps, towards the eastern bowl. Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr(#840RIJs) Standing on the eastern side of the bowl, you realize why this is one of the most striking Weyrs on Pern. Arrayed around the north rim of the bowl are the Seven Spindles: high crownlike points formed of old volcano flows which were eroded to sharp spikes. The bowl itself is a rough ovoid shape, with a large lake taking up a good portion of the southeastern part. The bowl seems to slant down to the lake shore, and the soil becomes a little looser in that direction. From the east, the slight aroma of herdbeast and wherry hide rises from the feeding grounds. The northeast section of the bowl is full of activity: training of dragons both young and old goes on in a large clearing near the entrance to the weyrling barracks and dragon infirmary. Several small boulders dot the area to the north, forming a winding path to the ledges leading into the weyrleaders' quarters.

The afternoon is dotted with a few grey clouds. A lighty misty rain falls. A strong wind blows past and the summer air is pleasantly warm. The ground beneath your feet is wet from the last storm. Contents: Tegara Riaceth Liaoth(#8558QVabeps) Jazra(#8434POVace) Ayson Madison Obvious exits: Western Bowl Weyrleader Ledges Dragon Infirmary Candidate Barracks Weyrling Training Room Feeding Grounds Lake Shore

Your location's current time: 14:53 on day 21, month 8, Turn 12, of the Interval. It is a summer afternoon.

Ayson eyes the girl now. "Excuse me? Three kids held you down while someone else beat you up? From the sounds of it you should all be in trouble." He frowns, casting a critical glance down at her. When the Istan greenrider heads their way, he lifts his hand and gives a wave. "Welcome to the 'Reaches."

The challenging call of the watchdragon has barely faded when there's movement to the north. R'hin strides down the winding path leading to the Weyrleader's ledges, casual in his shirt in deference to the warmer weather. At the foot of the path he stops, pale gaze cast over the occupants of the bowl, lingering in particular on the two Istan riders, and his gaze is not particularly welcoming.

Leiventh> Liaoth and Riaceth sense that Leiventh's mental tones are chill with the winter climes of the 'Reaches, even despite the summer heat at present, touching both dragons, silent challenge and query both in the gesture.

Jazra waves and as she comes close she asks the two. "You mightn't happen to know where the Headwoman is would you? And thank you. Though..." She peers measuringly and skeptically at the girl with the eye and lip. "My, my, candidates shouldn't get into scuffles, what happened?" Her tone is rather quiet, a tad on the icy side, though her eyes show a bit of mild amusement and curiousity.

Riaceth had landed in perfect formation with Lioth, her rider sliding down her neck with a thick bundle of messages. "Haven't been here for a bit," she says with an affectoinate slap on the green's neck. As she heads off towards the Weyrleader's ledge, she almost runs into a couple of candidates. "What happened here?" although the answer is somewhat obvious. "Gettin' inta fights ain't a good thing for candidates. An' you'd better not do that while you're weyrlins -- you'll jus' upset th' dragons."

"Four boys, not three.. FOUR." Madison says, "And I still got some licks in." She tells Ayson and grins at him, toothily before she looks over towards the rider that lands. "Hello!" She salutes, "Greetings to Ista's queens from Reaches Queen's." She salutes. "Um." She frowns, looking a bit terse about it. "What makes you the most frightened about being a rider? My Weyrleader doesn't think that I'm old enough or mature enough to be a rider and he thinks if he can scare me off he's wrong." She looks at Jazra. "Oh no, this was before I was a Candidate ma'am." The young woman looks over towards Tegara. "I wasn't." She says. "I'm not fighting now"

Ayson holds his hands defensively as the Istan riders approach. "I didn't lay a hand on her. She does things like this all on her own." He eyes the women with a little suspicion. Then he catches sight of a not so happy looking Weyrleader coming their way. Hands are immediately stuffed into his pockets as he says. "And she /won't/ get involved into any more fights."

Leiventh and Riaceth sense that Liaoth responds with cheerful, brisk seashore winds smelling distinctly of tropical fruit and salt. Tides swelling joyfully against the beach and the laziness of tropical sunshine. She isn't in the mood for trouble, though her mental tones are quite friendly.

Distracted, distant expression creeps across R'hin's face for a moment or two, before he brushes a hand over close-cropped hair, and strides towards the grouping. Though his shirt doesn't have the knot that declares his position, there's something in the striding, confident manner he moves that declares authority. "Ista thinks to teach 'Reachian candidates how to behave?" his low, amused voice comes as he stops apace with the group.

Leiventh senses that Riaceth is calm, her mind voice a whisper of cooling seabreeze and a gentle, swirling mist, sends a quiet greeting.

Leiventh> Liaoth and Riaceth sense that Leiventh accepts the greetings with ease and withdraws somewhat, though there's a lingering chill in his tones to hint he still watches, hovering close by.

Tegara is on her best behavior, and snaps off a brisk salute. "Tegara, green Riaceth's. Ista's duties, sir." She turns to look at the pair, one small and a bit battered, the other taller and unscarred. "It's more a mattter of timing and pure, dumb luck. Oh, I also have some messages for you from Ista's Weyrleadership," and she starts shuffling throught the bundle.

Jazra shakes her head. "Not really my business sir. Passing through an this little lady seemed a bit agitated to me." Jazra salutes, "Wanted teh make sure things were okay, seeing as she's got a black eye and all, however old. But obviously she's taken care of." Jazra's tone is completely unconcerned, even if her words don't sound that way. "As for your question child, that energy you boasted of is a valuable asset to a rider when channeled. Think of it like the power of the wind. The wind on its own is powerful, but its strength is haphazard, all over the map. However, when its focused into a tornado its power is almost invincible." Again, her tone is cold, though her words seem to make sense. "As for whether or not one so young should be a rider? I've seen younger. In threadfall I've heard of the standing age being raised, simply because the Weyrs wanted riders they were sure could be responsible, but I haven't heard of it happening yet if that's what you mean."

"That's no way to talk to guests!" Madison looks towards R'hin as he speaks and her eyes go wide when she notices who it is. "Ooh, YOU." She screws her face up and tries to calm herself down and gives a salute to the man. "Weyrleader. Sorry, didn't know it was you." She smiles widely to him, although it's quite close lipped. Her eyes turn back to the two Istan riders. "Sorry." She says to the riders before she looks up at Jazra and Tegara. "Ayson? Lumpy? He couldn't beat me up. No boy can, not one on one." She says, folding her arms across her chest before she marches over towards Tegara and the Weyrleader. "Weyrleader I've asked others but they haven't told me what they fear." She tells him. "So, I still don't feel like I'm scared."

Ayson looks like he's beginning to get confused when Jazra starts to go on about Madison's energy being like the wind. "More like a tornado that causes trouble everywhere in its path." The man mutters, shaking his head. His eyes shift uneasily towards the Weyrleader and then back to the Istans once more.

R'hin does not return the salute, though pale eyes settle on Tegara and he offers her a perfunctory nod in acknowledgement. "'Reaches duties," he drawls, through habit more than anything else. "Dumb luck," he echoes, a mirthful chuckle following as he watches the Istan shuffle through her hides a moment. Jazra, too, is afforded a nod, though the woman's words to Madison - particularly her opinion on the matter of threadfall - earns a cool sort of observation. "I've seen many an older rider who lacks the... responsibility," he borrows Jazra's word deliberately, "Of some younger ones." His study progresses to Madison, briefly with a twitch of lips, "Keep asking, then," he tells her, before his gaze shifts to Ayson, with a longer, speculative gaze. "Ayson, is it?" He says the name with an odd kind of interest.

Jazra aaaahs in understanding... "Fear? I'm not especially afraid of much. I was a hunter before I impressed. A cocky one, but I was cautious enough to know that as long as I kept my head, and remained inventive I had nothing to fear. Hmm..." Then she jokes. "Annoying men who must have boots thrown at them?" Her face quirking in a smile. "No... hmmm... I was the one who threw that boot, though I must say he was asking for it. Aaaah... well... not so much fear as that when Liaoth turns proddy its quite an uncomfortable experience. My personality alters so much that I end up doing things I'm embarassed about later, even if other people aren't supposed to tease or laugh about it. Really the only thing that's upset, though not scared me, is being put in an undignified position, or a position where I would have to make a dishonest or unfair action. Riders are the faces of their Weyr, even though there aren't as many of us as lower cavern folk. We're the ones that the Holders see, so I've always taken pains to act fairly. So maybe... loss of logical thinking skills? Embarassment in front of Holders when Liaoth's getting glowy? The responsibility that people are counting on me for their very lives? Definately frightening."

Ayson lifts his eyebrows, returning the long, speculative gaze. However, his is more nervous looking than anything. "Uh, yes, Ayson. And yours is Weyrleader R'hin." He keeps a steady voice though. "Madison, don't snap at adults. It doesn't matter who they are." The man intones to the girl next to him, voice low. "One of these days you're going to get into so much trouble." He eyes Jazra and says, as tactfully as possible, "Maybe Madison should be a little worried about the real threat of thread falling near randomly from the skies. And the very real scenario that she may have to meet it some day the way things are looking. /And/ that no matter how experienced a rider is, something unexpected can still happen. Maybe that doesn't scare other people, but it scares me even if I'm not a rider."

"It does scare me, but I'm not afraid of it." Madison says. "The boys scare me. They still scare me. But I'm not afraid of them. I met their challenge to me." Madison says as her hands bundle up, a sure sign that she's starting to lose her temper. "Just as I'll meet Thread's challenge. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. IT's the same. If I impress and I fly up there and end up getting killed, then so be it. But it won't be because I panicked. It won't be because I'm not doing my job. It'll be because this time, thread had my number and I not it's. It not falling in an order is scary. Yes." She tells them all. "But I'm not afraid. The only thing I fear is being a waste, like my parents!"

R'hin shoves hands into the pockets of his pants, brief snort given. "Ah. The Istan greenrider claims fearlessness." There's a marked emphasis on 'claims', brows twitching upwards. "Those are words. They are not what scares you. What keeps you up at night. What wakes you up sweating. Those who do not know their fears do not know themselves." Although he's responding to Jazra, his gaze is on Madison, faint curl of lips given at her words - one that widens into a smile at Ayson. "Interesting," he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else.

Jazra says formally to the Weyrleader. "Sir, I have utmost faith in myself and in Liaoth. She's the fastest in her entire clutch. If I were to waver in that faith even once, I'd be dead by now." She says with cool fervor. "So yes, I do not fear death. I do, however, fear what might happen in my absence. In thread now people are counting on us to protect them. If we die, then who will give them that protection?"

"I do know my fears." Madison tells the Weyrleader and she points towards Jazra. "That's number three, Weyrleader." She tells the man before she pauses. "May I speak freely?" And then she does so before the man can answer. "You answered that you were scared for the future. But I don't think you're scared because of the people that may die or might get hurt. I think you are scared about it's effect on your legacy. Your lasting legacy is what scares you."

When the appropriate messagehide is finally extracted and offered to R'hin, the Weyrleader takes with an air of dismissiveness, not immediately opening it. Instead, he taps the hide against his leg, thoughtful. "Your Weyrleaders," the bronzerider says to Jazra, "Should be looking to that responsibility." He manages to imply a belief otherwise in the faintly derisive tone. A brow flickers upwards at Madison's words, and he says with tolerant amusement, "I don't think she counts." He doesn't even look towards Jazra as he dismisses her words. "My... only legacy," amusement curls his lips upwards, "-is- the Weyr. It will last after I'm gone, and I will do anything to ensure that. I may be arrogant... but not arrogant enough to think I will be remembered in ten, twenty, fifty Turns time. I am nothing."

Jazra hmms, peering at R'hin, then at Madison. Her tone is calm and reasonable. "He's right. I agree with him on that. Madison, think of the record hides in the archives of every Weyr, Hold and Hall. They are stories of a life, each one, and these lives have long since been forgotten. The Weyr endures because it is the collective efforts of those lives. The Weyrleader and Weyrwoman are the pillar, claw and wings of the Weyr. They don't care about their legacy. They care that the Weyr survives for the next crisis, the next pass. They care that the efforts those lives put in on behalf of those to come next aren't waisted. Their only concern is their duties and obligations to their Weyr and their World."

"If he cares about the Weyr and it's lasting legacy then he can open his eyes and know that I'll stay here. I'm not going to budge, I wont scare. I won't leave." The young girl says, looking at the two riders. "I will not fall back, I will not run. I won't be bullied or collied and pushed into a corner." Her voice raises now as she lifts her gaze to lock on R'hin. "I won't back down, I don't run away. Not from thread, not from bully boys and not from YOU!" She points her finger right at the Weyrleader in a familiar view to the man standing there.

Slowly, R'hin's head turns to study the Istan greenrider, low-throated chuckle rising up. "Ah, how lovingly naive," he says, as if marvelling at it. The amusement lingers at the candidate's words, "Do you think I'm trying to scare you, Madison? I haven't even -tried-, yet. Keep asking." He lifts the messagehide as if in silent explanation of his abrupt departure, though the fact that he carelessly shoves it into his pocket as he spins on a heel and strides back towards the weyrleader's ledge suggests it's mere excuse.

Ayson visibly cringes. "Hey, hey, don't point fingers! No one at any point was insuating that you were going let yourself be bullied or pushed into corners. But what everyone was saying is you know the risks that are involved and if you were willing to take them. It's sort of a lot to put on the shoulders of most twelve turn olds."

You go up the stairs to Weyrleader's ledge.