Post by Zen on Sept 22, 2019 3:13:36 GMT -5
10th Pass, 6th Turn, 5th Month
A'zael :: Bronze Fath, B'rax
“Come back to me,” he’d told her before she and the rest of the group that agreed to this crazy time traveling mission took to the air with all the supplies they had carefully sequestered away on the far side of the island… and then they were gone.
Fath’s eyes whirled a sickly looking combination of yellow and purple as he bellowed in alarm the instant the group Betweened, and it was difficult for A’zael not to let his dragon’s panic overtake him too. They’regoneminegone! Wheredidtheygo!? Sofarawaycan’tfeelthem!
He pressed one hand to the bronze’s side and did his best to bury his own misgivings about this venture, pressing against Fath’s mind to calm him down, They-they’ll be back, Fath. It’s alright. They’ll be back. We just… we have to be patient. Fath let out a pitiful moan, but it wasn’t a keen. None of the dragons were keening. That… that had to be a good sign, right?
Fath lowered his head, eyes still whirling unpleasant colors, and A’zael moved forward to stroke his muzzle, dreading returning to the Weyr and what awaited him there. B’rax was likely already doing his best on the damage control front as riders were alerted by their dragons of the sudden disappearance of several of their wingmates. The secrecy was for the best, he reminded himself, not so sure anymore. If only there had been a way to keep it from the Weyr until the group’s successful return… or confirmed failure.
It was a gray morning. The sun was just beginning to peek above the horizon but the sky was mostly covered in clouds, hiding away what light it did offer. He didn’t want to go back to the Weyr. He wanted to stay right here until they came back. But what he wanted mattered little, or he would have gone with them in the first place. His stomach felt tied up in painful knots. It did not sit well with him to ask others to take a risk he was not taking himself, to put their lives on the line when he was here, safe. He should have gone with them, no matter what B’rax said. He would have had the Weyr well in hand until they returned, if they returned, and he would have had it well in hand if they hadn’t.
Fath moaned again, PrettyshinyDanovelith….
A’zael closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the bronze’s nose, “I know. She’ll come back…. They have to come back.” Until dusk, there was nothing to do but wait, and wonder, and worry. And an entire Weyr of confusion and very likely justified anger to contend with all the while. There were very few people who already knew the plan that hadn’t gone.
Fath let out another low moan, raising his head and looking back toward the Weyr, Gamath’s wantsyou, mine.
The sorrow in the bronze’s tone added a painful squeeze to A’zael’s heart that he definitely didn’t need right now. He sighed, “Yeah. I’m sure he does.” He forced himself up to Fath’s back and took a deep breath, “Alright. Let’s… go back.”
Fath was as reluctant to leave as he was, as though Danovelith would not return if he was not there waiting for her. A’zael could relate to the feeling, but after some more soothing and urging, they were finally in the air. Fath circled over the area once, twice, and mournfully headed back for their weyr. When they arrived, Gamath and B’rax were already there. A’zael landed heavily as he dismounted, feeling the weight of it all and nearly overwhelmed by it. B’rax was there to steady him.
“Bolster yourself, Weyrleader, or you’ll never be able to make the Weyr believe in this venture,” the older man cautioned him softly, but firmly. A’zael knew he was right. If he didn’t believe they were coming back, how could anyone else? Not that he didn’t, but it wasn’t that simple. It was so hard not to dwell on the worst case scenario… that come dusk, no one would return to them at all. But, surely, it would be better to come forward than go back? Even if it was a little ahead of when they left, they had at least been here already. He clung to that hopeful thought.
Taking another deep breath, he nodded, “Right. Okay.”
B’rax gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze and stepped back, “The word should be spreading well by now to gather in the dining cavern. You have a bit of time to collect yourself and decide just what you want to say, but we should be heading there soon. We don’t want the Weyr stewing in this confusion for long or it’s likely to become panic.”
A’zael nodded again, “I know. Can you… can you go ahead? Give me a moment and… and keep things calm.”
B’rax hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave him alone, “If that’s what you want.”
“Please,” A’zael looked over at the man, “I just need to get my thoughts in order….”
B’rax frowned, because usually A’zael preferred a sounding board, whether it had been X’ar or himself over the past couple turns of his leadership. Except when it came to his emotional state. Which had led to that drunken show at the hatching feast. “A’zael, if you need to talk anything out, you know I will listen.”
“I… I know. I appreciate it. I just… I’ll be alright, I just need a moment.”
Not convinced, B’rax wasn’t about to press the matter when he was sure it would get him nowhere, “Very well. Try not to be too long.” As B’rax tooks his leave through the door, Gamath took wing, and then it was just him and Fath again. He wandered farther into the weyr, brushed his fingers lightly over the strings of his gitar leaning against the end of his bed, and sucked in a breath as his gaze lingered over the mussed furs and bedding where not that long ago he had held Srunae safe in his arms.
This had been her idea. He had to have faith in her. She knew what she was doing. She was the most amazing woman he knew, how could he doubt her? From among the furs, the fluffy brown Frisk popped out, peeping at him curiously and hopping over to climb up his chest to perch on his shoulder. He reached up to stroke the brown’s fuzzy mane, reminded of the first time he met her, identifying strange creatures in his office. We just have to believe in them, Fath.
Mine? The sorrow was still in the bronze’s tone, as well as confusion at his rider’s statement. A’zael laughed softly. Of course Fath wouldn’t understand. Don’t worry. They won’t be gone long. Not on their side of time, at least.
They’recomingbacksoon? There was hope in the bronze’s voice.
Yes. Tonight. They’ll be back tonight. Until proven otherwise, there was nothing else to believe. And the conviction he felt about it now seemed to be enough for Fath, the bronze’s somber mood finally lifting. With that, he turned and made for the dining cavern.
If only the rest of the Weyr would be as easy to reassure as his dragon.
