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Rainbows on the Wall; Standalone
Topic Started: Sep 3 2015, 10:37 PM (105 Views)
Skyrunner
Member Avatar
Lovable Creampuff
Dearly Departed
((fuzzy-timed a bit to be earlier in the spring))

Not even two days after "graduating" Weyrlinghood, Auryn had received her official transfer orders. She'd known they were coming. For months, she'd know. Half the class would be leaving. All of the blacks and graphites, of course, and then any male large enough to sire a clutch. Assuming they were shiny and pearlescent like the graphites and blacks. That meant two bronzes, a copper, and a brown, though another brown had joined them along with a couple blues and greens of unusual size and sheen. But even with half of her Weyrling class joining her, Auryn couldn't help the sharp pain of betrayal when that hide finally arrived at her weyr.

I say good riddance, Posaeth snorted, watching her rider read the missive for the fifth time. She'd already packed. Since she'd known she was going to be leaving anyway, what was the point of decorating her weyr or making it homey?

"They're thinking the same thing."

Then they can go fardle themselves. I'm a dragon, not some deformed herdbeast to cull from the herd. The graphite made a point of standing on her ledge and bugling to the rest of Fort Weyr. You hear that? I'm a dragon too!

A couple angry roars echoed in response, but Posaeth didn't back down.

"Posey, please," Auryn begged, rolling the hide and tucking it into her flight jacket. A jacket without insignia or adornment. Only her knots as a rider, a graphiterider, without Fort's colors, decorated the shoulder. She had no Wing badge to proclaim her allies, no Weyr emblem to claim her as its own. Posaeth gave one last snort to the protesting dragons of Fort and turned back inside, ready to accept what few bags her rider was bringing with her.

Durath still thinks I'm a runt, and Montuth doesn't know what the word 'vilify' means, or he wouldn't use it like a curse, the graphite muttered while Auryn went about hooking satchels to her riding straps. Two days as full riders and already they were leaving. Posaeth was surprised it had taken that long. The small dragon rubbed her head in Auryn's chest, inviting affection and receiving it. We'll fit in at Vaioa. I know we will.

"I'm sure," Auryn affirmed, but there was no heart in her words. She'd never felt at home anywhere. Growing up, she'd been bullied. In the glasscraft she'd traveled constantly and competed for the best positions and been stepped on quite a bit by her 'friends.' In the Weyr, she'd thought she'd finally found a place that would accept an overweight girl with a love of light. Instead, she found a dragon who loved every part of her and a Weyr who couldn't love its child.

Would Vaioa really be so different?

"Everything feel alright?" the glass-smith asked as she double-checked buckles and bindings. Posaeth rolled her shoulders and arched her neck. When she'd settled down, she nodded an affirmation and gave mental encouragement.

There's no need to be afraid.

"There's every reason to be afraid. We have no idea what waits us there."

True, but at least they welcome us. There are other graphites and blacks there.

"That doesn't mean we'll be welcome. Merely tolerated."

I'll take tolerated over outright antagonistic.

Auryn sighed and rubbed her dragon's head. She was right, of course. They'd already had this conversation about fear and nervousness. Auryn's family hadn't exactly been supportive of their daughter's dragon color, but they didn't want her to die in Threadfall from poor training either, so they'd supported the decision to transfer. Not that Auryn had any say in it. Her options had been transfer or be permanently grounded.

Posaeth's response had been loud. As usual.

"Let's get going then. It'll be later in the day there, and we meet our Wing tomorrow morning." Auryn slipped into the riding straps and buckled herself in. It was a short flight, certainly, but it felt...momentous. As Posaeth took to the skies of Fort, only the Watchdragon bugled them a farewell. Between one moment and the next, they were blinking in the late afternoon desert sun of Vaioa.

The Watchdragon on the tan heights greeted them warmly and said they were expected. No doubt many of the other Fort riders would be coming soon or had already arrived. Posaeth circled the huge spire in the center of the Weyr and whistled at the dragons sunning on their ledges.

We are to pick our weyr, Auryn! the graphite said excitedly, eyes immediately whirling green, no longer an agitated orange. Oh oh oh, we'll need one with afternoon sunlight so...west side of the cone.

Wait, why--


For your glass things! You know! The ones that paint rainbows on the wall!

They're called prisms.


Yes, those! They'll make rainbows every sunset. It's perfect!

And there was no convincing the graphite otherwise. Not that Auryn would disagree. It was a brilliant idea and not one she would consider trying to fulfill if not for the ability to pick her living space. Posaeth circled around to the western side of the Weyr and started scanning, her shadow falling across ledge after ledge. After landing at a couple empty weyrs and rejecting them, the graphite picked one near the top of the cone. It was small, probably meant for a green, but Posaeth took an instant liking to it.

Here. We'll take here. There will be plenty of sun, and look! We have a great view of the spires beyond the Weyr! And the Water Cavern entrance! All the handsome males using that mhmm. Posaeth preened as Auryn dismounted and rustled through one of her bags. Out came a small prism hanging from a cord. The late afternoon sun already threw small rainbows from it, scattering them across the barren and lifeless weyr. Not lifeless for long...

"Come here, I'm not tall enough," she gestured to her dragon. Posaeth tilted her head but obliged.

Ow, ow, at least go barefoot next time, she complained while Auryn stood on her shoulders. The rider ignored her dragon's melodrama and sought with light fingers along the top of the weyr's entryway. Aha! There. A small crack was perfect. She shoved the cord as far in as it would go and gave a couple tugs to secure the knot in the stone.

"Good pick, Posey," she said softly, slipping to the ground and leaning against her dragon's flank. There was no individual touch in the rest of the weyr. No blankets or throws. No decorations or rugs. Nothing but a prism hanging in the entrance.

"I think this might be home."

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