Post by Esko on Apr 20, 2020 17:18:18 GMT -5
It had involved much more than he would have ever anticipated. But he'd fulfilled a birth-promise, and it was up to him to spread the news.
S'goi ignored the chaotic aftermath of their historic return; side note, to make sure whatever records of this included his name too. After all, he was intent on turning this tiny dent into a legend. You intend to see someone. A few someones. A moment of silence. Ah, your family, I remember now. I am sure they will all want to see you promptly.
'Almost all.' They'd had their...discussions about his opinions on his sister. Even if she could go, Ollena wouldn't want to see him anyways. Though, it did occur to S'goi that unless Sava suffered a massive accident and hurt her head, the Senior Weyrwoman of Telgar would do everything to get his sister to Mavros. After all -except for his transfer- the Weyrhold was the prime disposal for the unwanted. But...a little, suppressed voice inside of him wanted to reach out to her again. Perhaps it was Ramacuth's influence, but he realized that he never knew her. They were worlds apart; a sex divide and otherwise. What was she like? He knew she was the perfect daughter, but...what did that truly entail? (Shin didn't quite realize that the habit of deep-pondering was infectious.) Being a proper woman, yes, but what went on inside her head? Probably not much, but then again, this questioning voice wasn't quite loud enough.
I should really Impress one of those lizards.' Shin thought, as he looked around for the obvious sign of a rider with a firelizard. And he found one with a few. He recognized the man as one of the bronzeriders from the Timing. It was hard not to know his face when there were only four. "F'mol." A single sound, one of deep sincerity. He needed a favor.
It seemed that he caught F'mol during a shore. In nothing but slacks and a very casual shirt, it took him a moment of blinking before he broke into a face-splitting grin. "Hi! Still adjusting after the trip back?"
"Mhm. Listen, can one of your lizards deliver a letter for me? To Telgar." He wasn't in the mood for any chit-chats with the...odd bronzer. Pouch in hand. F'mol blinked for another few seconds before smiling once more. "Ah, important business! Look at you, already being so brusque and bronze-like!" Ugh, he was like a fawning nanny. But S'goi did not say anything. In his youth -you are still young- he would've already spit at such a lad, but he was beyond such boyhood taunts."Well, I've got just the lizard for the job!"
A brown flit was summoned, and a moment of pause as Ramacuth gently reached the mind of the lizard. The image of S'tol passed between them. With a sound chirp, the brown firelizard picked up the pouch, flittered into the air and popped between. A few moments passed before he popped right back into view. F'mol reached an arm to the lizard as a perch, before looking back at S'goi. "Well! Say, how has it b-"
"I am expecting a few visitors." S'goi interrupted, before turning on a heel towards the bay. The weyrling didn't stop to see the sudden expression of dejection from the other man, before he brushed himself off and resumed his chores. Ramacuth rumbled, but he spread his wings and took flight- there would be a slew of spectators to witness his existence, and though he had many reservations, he knew that one of these visitors would be immensely proud.
~~~
S'tol sat there for a minute, before immediately jumping up. 'Oysseuth! Tell them at once!'
~~~
It was a cloudy, glum day. The dark waters of Mavros Bay sloshed at the shore, with the bronze figure staring at the sky. S'goi couldn't help but remark at his handsome form; for once, not his own. Thirteen months and he still felt those Impression marvels. After every disagreement or moment of introspection. S'goi knew somewhere that, even with his perfection, something could've very well gone wrong. But it had gone right. A blink of color in the air diverted his eyes. A fierce, coppery red. Then a deep brown. A shimmering orange-yellow and a greenish-bronze. My apologies for the lack of warning. Mine has family. S'goi winced, though, as he automatically looked for a golden shine. One by one, each dragon dropped off his rider before searching for a place to perch on the Heights. S'goi had known Bazzath all his life, so it was easy to see the droop in his neck, as his hide seemed to be more washed-out. His rider grunted at an awkward landing, before standing tall once more.
They were all here.
S'loi had a general air of disinterest, S'tol of shock, L'loi of coolness. And S'gon. S'goi couldn't believe how much he'd aged. Had it been that long since he'd first left Telgar? His hair was almost entirely grey, and his once clean-shaven face was fuzzy. A slight smirk, which might as well have been one of F'mol's sugar-sweet grins. "So it is true. I suppose you won't share the secret of how you obtained him so fast?"
"Might be a capital secret still."
S'gon chuckled. "He is a mighty fine creature. I would expect no less for you. No amount of words could do justice to tell how proud of you she would be." Once more, S'goi winced. It would forever be a hole in his side that his mother died while he was still Shintagoi. To know that she died unhappy... That tiny part of him wanted to ask about Ollena, but he knew that would instantly ruin everything. She was sure to be completely disowned. To be the perfect son, he would need to squash that slight curiosity. He still had to maintain an image, even with his own blood.
"Well, suppose I can tell you everything over a meal? If it wouldn't disgrace you too much to try the local cuisine." Father and son laughed. The other sons awkwardly side-eyed each other.
"Of course it would! But we've come all this way."
S'goi ignored the chaotic aftermath of their historic return; side note, to make sure whatever records of this included his name too. After all, he was intent on turning this tiny dent into a legend. You intend to see someone. A few someones. A moment of silence. Ah, your family, I remember now. I am sure they will all want to see you promptly.
'Almost all.' They'd had their...discussions about his opinions on his sister. Even if she could go, Ollena wouldn't want to see him anyways. Though, it did occur to S'goi that unless Sava suffered a massive accident and hurt her head, the Senior Weyrwoman of Telgar would do everything to get his sister to Mavros. After all -except for his transfer- the Weyrhold was the prime disposal for the unwanted. But...a little, suppressed voice inside of him wanted to reach out to her again. Perhaps it was Ramacuth's influence, but he realized that he never knew her. They were worlds apart; a sex divide and otherwise. What was she like? He knew she was the perfect daughter, but...what did that truly entail? (Shin didn't quite realize that the habit of deep-pondering was infectious.) Being a proper woman, yes, but what went on inside her head? Probably not much, but then again, this questioning voice wasn't quite loud enough.
I should really Impress one of those lizards.' Shin thought, as he looked around for the obvious sign of a rider with a firelizard. And he found one with a few. He recognized the man as one of the bronzeriders from the Timing. It was hard not to know his face when there were only four. "F'mol." A single sound, one of deep sincerity. He needed a favor.
It seemed that he caught F'mol during a shore. In nothing but slacks and a very casual shirt, it took him a moment of blinking before he broke into a face-splitting grin. "Hi! Still adjusting after the trip back?"
"Mhm. Listen, can one of your lizards deliver a letter for me? To Telgar." He wasn't in the mood for any chit-chats with the...odd bronzer. Pouch in hand. F'mol blinked for another few seconds before smiling once more. "Ah, important business! Look at you, already being so brusque and bronze-like!" Ugh, he was like a fawning nanny. But S'goi did not say anything. In his youth -you are still young- he would've already spit at such a lad, but he was beyond such boyhood taunts."Well, I've got just the lizard for the job!"
A brown flit was summoned, and a moment of pause as Ramacuth gently reached the mind of the lizard. The image of S'tol passed between them. With a sound chirp, the brown firelizard picked up the pouch, flittered into the air and popped between. A few moments passed before he popped right back into view. F'mol reached an arm to the lizard as a perch, before looking back at S'goi. "Well! Say, how has it b-"
"I am expecting a few visitors." S'goi interrupted, before turning on a heel towards the bay. The weyrling didn't stop to see the sudden expression of dejection from the other man, before he brushed himself off and resumed his chores. Ramacuth rumbled, but he spread his wings and took flight- there would be a slew of spectators to witness his existence, and though he had many reservations, he knew that one of these visitors would be immensely proud.
~~~
Dearest Kin,
I cordially invite my most direct brothers and father to Mavros Weyrhold, to see the proof of what I am about to describe to you.
For you it may have been a day, but for near two Turns I have seen. At first light today I left a candidate, but at dusk I returned, bonded. Perhaps this is forbidden knowledge, but I invest my trust that this will not leave your sights. Father, you will be very pleased. He is absolute perfection, a diamond in the rough of Mavros blood. I could not ask for a better companion to rebuild this Weyrhold. Come at once.
-S'goi of bronze Ramacuth
I cordially invite my most direct brothers and father to Mavros Weyrhold, to see the proof of what I am about to describe to you.
For you it may have been a day, but for near two Turns I have seen. At first light today I left a candidate, but at dusk I returned, bonded. Perhaps this is forbidden knowledge, but I invest my trust that this will not leave your sights. Father, you will be very pleased. He is absolute perfection, a diamond in the rough of Mavros blood. I could not ask for a better companion to rebuild this Weyrhold. Come at once.
-S'goi of bronze Ramacuth
S'tol sat there for a minute, before immediately jumping up. 'Oysseuth! Tell them at once!'
~~~
It was a cloudy, glum day. The dark waters of Mavros Bay sloshed at the shore, with the bronze figure staring at the sky. S'goi couldn't help but remark at his handsome form; for once, not his own. Thirteen months and he still felt those Impression marvels. After every disagreement or moment of introspection. S'goi knew somewhere that, even with his perfection, something could've very well gone wrong. But it had gone right. A blink of color in the air diverted his eyes. A fierce, coppery red. Then a deep brown. A shimmering orange-yellow and a greenish-bronze. My apologies for the lack of warning. Mine has family. S'goi winced, though, as he automatically looked for a golden shine. One by one, each dragon dropped off his rider before searching for a place to perch on the Heights. S'goi had known Bazzath all his life, so it was easy to see the droop in his neck, as his hide seemed to be more washed-out. His rider grunted at an awkward landing, before standing tall once more.
They were all here.
S'loi had a general air of disinterest, S'tol of shock, L'loi of coolness. And S'gon. S'goi couldn't believe how much he'd aged. Had it been that long since he'd first left Telgar? His hair was almost entirely grey, and his once clean-shaven face was fuzzy. A slight smirk, which might as well have been one of F'mol's sugar-sweet grins. "So it is true. I suppose you won't share the secret of how you obtained him so fast?"
"Might be a capital secret still."
S'gon chuckled. "He is a mighty fine creature. I would expect no less for you. No amount of words could do justice to tell how proud of you she would be." Once more, S'goi winced. It would forever be a hole in his side that his mother died while he was still Shintagoi. To know that she died unhappy... That tiny part of him wanted to ask about Ollena, but he knew that would instantly ruin everything. She was sure to be completely disowned. To be the perfect son, he would need to squash that slight curiosity. He still had to maintain an image, even with his own blood.
"Well, suppose I can tell you everything over a meal? If it wouldn't disgrace you too much to try the local cuisine." Father and son laughed. The other sons awkwardly side-eyed each other.
"Of course it would! But we've come all this way."