Post by kevna on Mar 10, 2021 20:44:37 GMT -5
Riasu sighed with relief the farther she got from Ny’x and Nimocith. His curiosity had put his rider on edge, and the scrutiny had been intense. The question after question had been just been a bit more then diligent, and had felt more like and interrogation then a conversation to get to know her. It had been too close. She felt the slight ache in her ankle but didn’t allow herself to limp. It was minor as least, but she hoped it would heal quickly so she could continue her running. Her running was her crutch for escape.
She was tempted to listen for Nimocith’s voice to try and gather if they were still talking about her, but she decided against it. It was one thing if it was an accident, when she overheard conversations, but to do so on purpose… It didn’t feel right. She wondered briefly if dragons could feel her in their brains sometimes, the way they reacted to her even if she hadn’t spoke to them, almost always positively. Almost always. She winced as her ankle gave a little and looked down at it. Traitor. It would be fine, she could go without running for a few days, it wasn’t the end of the world. Even if it was a major help to keeping her control in check. She got to the candidates barracks, found her cot and sat down, inspecting the job Ny’x had done. She really had done a wonderful job. She put the leg up on her cot, and then decided to lay down. She looked at the ceiling, considering her options.
Choose to run, even with the pain, and the pain could worsen. She could even do damage, maybe? She knew if it was a dragon she was advising, then she would tell him or her to avoid flying until the healing was finished, so not to permanently damage the wing… She couldn’t permanently damage the ankle, or she wouldn’t be allowed to stand on the sands. Plus, she would need her ankle to mount dragons, and dismount. She pursed her lips, considering the tea that Ny’x had given her. That was her first option she supposed, but what if it didn’t help the pain? She would have to go back and get the topical peppermint or the crystalized sweetroot… And if the headache still persisted? She couldn’t mount Jarath with an ankle like this. Not for a few days at least. Shards. She should have been more careful.
“Riasu should be meditating. It’s the right way to go about this.” The voice inside her mind was her mother’s younger voice, frustrated. It was quiet, just a shadow of the past.
“That’s not our girl. We raised a go getter. She needs to be able to feel like she can do something in order to overcome this obstacle. Sitting with her eyes closed isn’t going to do that for her.” His voice was even quieter, and Riasu closed her eyes, clinging to it. By Faranth she missed him.
“Lo’rik, just because you’ve been a dragonrider longer doesn’t mean you know what is best. I am her mother. She needs to meditate.” He had laughed at that, hadn’t he? She focused and could almost hear it. Almost. Their fights had been spirited, but their love had been deeper. She took a deep, steadying breath.
“C’mon kiddo, time to go for a run.” She pictured him offering a hand up from where she had been sitting, listening to her parents fight. Riasu paused that moment in her brain, imagining his smile. He had had such a kind, loving smile. They had gone for a run every morning at dawn for two turns, until his sudden death. He had encouraged her to push herself, to focus on her breathing, clear her mind. When she thought she couldn’t go any farther, she had to prove to herself that she could. She hadn’t realized that he was trying to build her mental strength, her ability to build barriers. It had happened slowly, but she noticed it suddenly, how she could block out the voices with her mind. Her mind which had been honed by those mornings running.
She had continued running even after his death. She did it for her mental strength, but she also realized that she did it for her father. To remember him better. Keep him close to her, as close as she could. Risau realized that with every turn that passed, the harder it was to remember his voice, his smile, his laugh. It scared her. Little did, but forgetting him? It would ruin her.
She pointed her feet, stretching her legs. So why wasn’t running working anymore? What had changed, other then the weyr? She was getting older. Closer and closer to the cut off, where she wouldn’t be able to take to the sands anymore. She had a hard time believing she wouldn’t impress before then… What was causing the headaches? She had gotten to comfortable at Ierne-she had stopped pushing herself. So that was the problem, she wasn’t applying herself enough. She needed to refocus. Put more intention behind her running, more intention behind becoming a rider. She would have to place herself in places where it would put her mind to the test. That was fine. She could handle it.
“Only you can prove to yourself that you can do the impossible. This,” His hand had touched her temple, “is your greatest weapon, and you must use it, or it will be used against you.” His hand had traced her cheek lightly, and then he had grabbed her chin. “Don’t ever let it be used against you Ri. It will destroy you.” His voice had been so grave. Chills overtook Riasu and she opened her eyes, staring back at the ceiling. She sat back up and looked at her ankle, stretching it, considering. She had been on the defensive since arriving here, maybe she was taking the wrong approach.
She took a steadying breath and allowed her barrier to come crashing down. The clamor of voices bombarded her and she embraced them. One at a time she picked out voices she knew, putting names to them. Next, she threaded through the voices she didn’t recognize, listening intently, categorizing them in her brain by subject, or the mood of the conversation. Once they were organized in her brain, she began turning the volume down, imagining their voices getting quieter and quieter. Suddenly the clamor was a host of whispers. Tolerable. Still, it tickled her brain.
Riasu cracked her neck, and listened for what seemed like hours, having to regulate certain voices when their volume would suddenly spike. When she thought she couldn’t go much longer, she pushed herself. Finally, with a breath, she put the walls back up. She opened her eyes, sweaty, exhausted. But she felt good. Not perfect. But good.
“Looks like both you and mom were right pops. You two did always complete eachother.” She sighed, then gave a sad half smile. She then looked down at herself and curled her nose in disgust. Time to get washed up. She walked out of that room with more control. More self-respect and confidence. Look out impossible.
