Post by Zen on May 19, 2021 2:02:31 GMT -5
Kisoraz
Mizao
tovaana
He let out a soft laugh at her inquiry, “Ah… well, it is warmer here… but everything is so different…. The Weyr and the Hold are more separate here than I’d imagined they’d be. In Mirran there is no such separation, though Mirran’s holdings are rather vast so I suppose the population is more sprawling than concentrated. From what I understand there is no High Council here either? There are no castes, no traditions…. Ah, I suppose that might be unfair to say. Mavros is young and I imagine what traditions there are here are just beginning to take form….” He sighed again, thinking of his home and missing it, “I had imagined the only other Weyrhold on Pern would be so similar to my home, but it is far from it.” Mirran was by far superior in every way, but he knew better than to say such a thing. Perhaps that’s why his father had sent him here… to bring Mirran’s culture, Mirran’s greatness, to this… sad, struggling place.
When she talked of her own home, he could see the same fondness for it that he felt for Mirran on her features, hear it in her voice. He was left wondering why she had left, if Southern might have some sort of agreement with Mavros for candidates as well, but before he could ask she started on her own story. She was the daughter of a bronzerider? And yet she did not seem to take much pride in the association. Escape her reality? Shells, but things really were different at other Weyrs. Being born to a bronzerider in Mirran granted privilege few others received from birth. Most had to earn their way into the Mirrish caste, very few were born into it, even if their place was not entirely secure. It was not terribly difficult to do, securing your place as Mirrish once you were born into it. Usually. Except in rare cases like him.
She had left of her own accord. Run away. Kisoraz could not understand why. Purely for the sake of adventure? He supposed it was fitting enough of what he knew of her, but it was still beyond his comprehension. Surely she had good standing at Southern, being the daughter of a bronzerider? And she had mentioned siblings as well that seemed as though they might have made names for themselves. Or perhaps he did understand, a little. All of his siblings… all but the very youngest, had found their place, and he… he alone floundered. If there was anything good about Mavros, it was that some of the weight of expectation had been lifted from him since his arrival. No one expected anything of him here. No one cast glances when they thought he wasn’t looking, full of pity or judgment for the way he was not yet living up to his potential as the son of Mirran’s Weyrleaders. He could still feel the expectations from his parents, even half a world away, but it was not so heavy. Was that what she meant by escaping her reality? Because he could see the appeal now that he really thought about it.
He was surprised from his thoughts as she asked him how he thought the story ended. Another soft laugh escaped him as the song came to an end and he spun her one last time, pulling her back toward him, “I don’t think the story has ended yet… in fact, I think it’s barely begun.” He stepped away from her, but pulled her hand to his lips to place a quick, playful kiss on her fingers before he fully released her, “I’m sure the next chapter will be interesting to see unfold.” He gave her a slight bow then, straightening with a smile on his lips. “Thank you for the dance, Ceela. Perhaps you can tell me another story sometime. I do have a collection to maintain,” he teased lightly, referencing his previous comment about collecting bedtime stories. He did enjoy stories, regardless if they were meant to lull children to sleep or not. They were just another art form to appreciate.
Mizao
His lips on her fingers had a mild blush creeping up her features. She most certainly wasn’t used to such attention. She knew it was a common thing, more of a greeting than anything particularly intimate, but it still left her feeling a little flustered. When he spoke, he was quite well mannered, and even though she still felt rather out of her element in this interaction, it did help put her at ease. He was quite a gentleman, which was reassuring. Mizao offered him a soft smile, “Well met, Khrowlos, and welcome to Mavros. It seems you arrived just in time to celebrate with us.”
She settled her hand upon his shoulder, a familiar fluttery sort of feeling in her stomach at being so close to a man. It made it difficult to relax, but she tried. He had been nothing but polite so far and it was just a dance. She knew how to dance. There was nothing to be nervous about. She drew in a deep breath and let it out, and he asked her about herself. “Oh… well-” she cut herself off as she was about to say there was not much to tell. It was another way of putting herself down, thinking she was in some way not interesting, not worth talking about, and it was something she’d started recognizing fairly recently.
She started again, “Well, I come from a little Hold outside of Telgar. I’ve four younger sisters there.” She didn’t particularly want to mention her mother’s early death and ruin the festive mood, nor her father’s disownment when she chose to pursue dragonriding, “I was apprenticing at the Smithcraft Hall when I was Searched.” Her gaze flicked down in the general direction of her brooch for a moment, as she considered whether she should claim it as her work, “My… my brooch is one of my creations. I had initially hoped it might catch a dragonrider’s eye at a gather, but I was Searched before I had a chance to try to sell it. Now I’m rather glad I didn’t.”
The thought crept in, was she talking about herself too much? But he had asked. “I have only been at Mavros for a little over a turn. Wendiloth found me at the last hatching… ah, well… the last hatching in this time…. It was quite a sight, actually… I didn’t know two dragons could hatch from one egg, and yet Wendiloth and his brother Gargerrith did. Sometimes I wonder if something about sharing an egg made them… different, seeing as they both chose girls rather than boys.” And she rather thought that was enough rambling on. She smiled up at Khrowlos, happy enough to change the subject as she wasn’t entirely comfortable going on and on about herself, “And what about you?” It seemed to her that he was probably far more interesting than she was anyway, “What drew you to the healer craft?”
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