Logs:Even In Anger
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 30 November, 2012 |
| Who: Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: I'kris and Svissath go Between. Of the dragons who mourn, some are more surprising than others. |
| Where: Hraedhyth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 5, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Fog begins to coalesce in the very early morning hours and lingers throughout the day, soft and still and clammy. |
| Mentions: Brieli/Mentions, I'kris/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: My inspiration for this vignette. The ending in particular. |
 |
| Azaylia's hand spasmed, quill pen tearing through the expensive paper. In that moment, she had little concern for the ink-splotched, ruined letter. Hraedhyth was keening. She had hoped to never hear that sound again. It was different than when a dragon and their rider died of old age. The gold had sounded similar once before, only this time there was no rage to help conceal her sorrow. Spilled blood. Hraedhyth was not on her ledge when Azaylia ran out to comfort her, tears streaming down her face. The gold was perched high above the Weyr, head tilted back as she continued to give those sharp, haunting cries. Try courage so the beasts may fall. Hands held to her chest, she tried to block out the agony that, at first, made no sense. Her dragon was beyond comprehension, scorched with a fire so hot it felt like ice. Unable to do anything but mourn. Those who defy mountains are, in truth, cowards. Azaylia couldn't ask why. She simply stood there in the early morning fog, eyes clenched tight against the steady flow of tears. Her robe could keep none of the chill out, and soon she was as cold on the outside as she was within. Just as Hraedhyth's cries became more ragged, more like the pounding of her drums, her rider let loose the sobs she had been stifling. It was for Svissath. And in a small way, it was for I'kris. Even in anger, you do not speak against wrong. Hraedhyth did not force her people to join in. Their anger was deserved. Vindicated. Instead, she led those who would mourn alongside Iesaryth. It wasn't until those 7 small voices joined in, that Azaylia fully lost her resolve and crumpled to the stone.
She didn't know how much time had passed since the keening had stopped. Since Hraedhyth had landed and curled around her, protective and more importantly, warm. « It was my last duty to him. » Azaylia curled in tighter between her queen's chest and forelimb, chapped face hidden and toes shoved under heavy, but pliable hide. I thought you hated him. Hated them. « No. » She didn't ask for an explanation. She didn't need one. And yet, as the dragon lowered her head and closed her eyes, she added flames to the physical heat of her body, « I do what I must for my people... Even if it might hurt them in the moment. » ...Even if it hurts you, too? Azaylia was unsure if she meant Hraedhyth, herself, or both of them. However the question was meant, the answer remained the same. « It is what's best. » |
Leave A Comment