Reach

Who: Priska, B’lian, Yedrith, Imahdth
Where: Lake Shore, Fort Weyr
What: Yedrith has inherited much of her dam’s talents.


At nearly four months old, Yedrith has gladly started to leave behind the limitations of her early days, no longer hampered by the need to nap or eat so frequently as she has been. And so, she’s taken it upon herself to devote what time is not occupied by lessons and was spent sleeping to other pursuits, such as testing her mental reach. She’s managed to aggravate more than one dragon at Fort by simply drifting into their minds to ‘borrow’ destination images for various places around Pern and now she’s actively looking further afield, searching beyond the Weyr’s airspace for new minds to offer up their information for her. That it’s Imahdth’s mind that she finds is probably not what she intended, for her voice is hot with flustered guilt when she demands, << What are you doing out there? >>

Imahdth’s mind is a vast and endless desert, the warmth of his amusement is a stirring of a wanted breeze on an impossibly hot day. << I am being >> he informs her, twirling a tiny dust storm around her. He widens his view and narrows it, showing her his current location. The warmth of his mind is replaced by the icy coldness of a mountain range, the snap of a winter storm beginning to brew in the distance. He draws her with him towards the bowl of High Reaches Weyr, where he waits for his rider to return. << There was someone here we knew from before. B'lian has decided to visit. Why are you wandering so far? >>

Unrepentantly, Yedrith takes the image of High Reaches and stashes it away with the others, asking, << What is it called? >> as she did before, quite as if she’s waiting to attach a tag to it. She bristles a little, the rustling of her wings something she conveys through her link with Imahdth in a manner akin to a shrug. << Why should I not wander? There is very little here to amuse. Only patronising remarks of youth and ‘waiting’. It is no fault of mine that their minds are so limited. >>

<< I do not say you should not wander >> Imahdth replies with a diplomatic air, << I was only asking what drew you this way. Unlike those that teach you, I am not questioning your every decision. >> He shares with her the view of people bustling around the Bowl. << This is High Reaches Weyr >> he tells her, << You will come here when you are able to Between, I am sure. I do not enjoy the cold of the place. >> There is a sense of his movement into the air as B’lian has returned and then a silence that indicates his travel Between. He reaches for her once they are above Fort, his mind far clearer with the nearness of his body. << Where are you? I will keep you company if you wish it. >>

Yedrith tags the image with the destination’s name, then shoves the whole lot of it away into whatever cataloguing system that she’s been developing since her hatching. << I am at the edge of the lake, >> she tells Imahdth, and so true is it that she actually has her front paws in the water while Priska lounges against her side, sharpening the blades that she’s been known to practise with, while reading from the open book in her lap at the same time. << I wonder that it would not be wiser simply to send us to Honshu. It would be far better to know the place before claiming it. >>

Imahdth’s shadow drifts over the lake proceeding his landing. He lowers himself as close to the ground as possible to permit B’lian’s disembarking. He waits until his rider is fully settled before he takes himself over to the lake to inspect Yedrith’s paws in the water. He stretches his wings out wide, engulfing the smaller gold in his shadow once more, before he snaps them primly against his side. << Are you so frustrated here at Fort that you would seek Honshu already? That is unfortunate. I like your company. Then, >> he huffs a laugh as he angles his head down to be more on eye level with her. << Your reach is far enough we could still have our chats should you wish it. >> B’lian’s already removed his flight gear and left it stowed on Imahdth’s straps, so he comes empty handed towards Priska. He notices her blades and the book with a flicker of a smile before he hunkers down near her. “Imahdth said Yedrith reached him at High Reaches. Who else does she seek out when she’s bored here?” he queries, looking closer at the book.

<< It only seems more practical, >> Yedrith sighs out, paddling her paws this way and that in the water solely for Imahdth’s inspection before removing them from the water to tuck them beneath her. << To learn of something and understand it before becoming responsible for it. >> She looks up from the water and meets the bronze’s gaze instead. << You could come with us. >> Priska promptly pauses in the sharpening of a blade and unflinchingly offers the book – something in the vein of a trashy romance – over to B’lian. “She doesn’t always tell me who she’s talking to,” she admits. “Sometimes, I’m not even sure she makes others aware that she’s rifling through what they know. She’s building a library of locations, is the best I can tell.”

<< I did not think about moving to Fort until it was decided we would come >> Imahdth answers with a mental shrug. << I believe they would not want to send you until you were trained. Usually we are sent fully trained to live in new places. You should be trained by those who shelled you >> he reasons further. He takes the memory of her dabbling paws and draws her into his mind to play with different ways ripples can play in the world, tying together various memories he has in regards to the movement of water and air. B’lian takes the book without comment and gives the title a glance before he flips through a few pages. He doesn’t seem overly concerned about the material – or would not deem it appropriate for him to comment on it. He closes the book and politely hands it back to her. “I’m going to assume the Weyrlingmasters are not handling her boredom well? Like they aren’t with you?” he shakes his head and flicks a finger through his hair. “I admit it makes me uneasy that she is gathering locations now. Is she… does it seem like she is thinking about going Between?”

Priska accepts the book back and settles it down on the ground next to her to resume the sharpening of blades. “Her siblings still like to play and I’m not sure that that the weyrlingmasters would believe me if I said she was striking up conversations across the continent,” she tells B’lian. “I think the Weyrleaders would be better having different staff for different classes, depending on the age of the group. I’m not the only one who’s frustrated; most of us are at the older end of the spectrum.” She drops her head back against Yedrith’s side to look up at him. “She can’t fly well enough yet to make Between a reality… but when she can, I figure that’s when I have to start worrying.” Shaking her head a little, she mutters, “It’d serve me right, wouldn’t it? Going on like I know everything.”

“I do feel like I have to remind you that it is a real reality that death can happen during weyrlinghood. If she is reaching now, I would not put it past her to try sooner than when they train her to fly. There are such things as natural talents. I think training for flight is meant more for //us// than for them,” B’lian answers as he glances towards Imahdth as the bronze lounges beside the gold. “If you do not want to give the feedback, I will take it to C’aol myself,” he continues as he looks back to Priska. “It is part of my responsibility as a bronzerider to be a leader. I can’t speak on the quality of the training program here. If you feel like there are improvements to be made, you at least can know what you want to take with you when you go to Honshu.” He folds his arms comfortably in front of him as he lets his gaze drift towards her sharpening blades. “Though a Weyrhold may have entirely different demands on it’s riders than a Weyr may.”

Priska lets out a theatrical groan and exclaims, “Oh, please, not you too!” before dropping her head back against Yedrith again, stilling the blade in her hand. She aims a mock shove at B’lian’s nearest shoulder once she’s settled both blades atop the book at her side. “Sometimes, it feels like all weyrlinghood is is one long lecture against the variety of deaths one can court.” She shakes her head a little. “It’s not your fault. I get that the programme has to cater to everyone, right down to the illiterate. It won’t be long before we’re free to go anywhere.” Cracking a slightly lopsided, wry grin, she adds, “And then I have to start figuring out how to make sure that I don’t end up with an idiot Weyrleader. Or Weyrlord. Or whatever I’ve got to call him.”

“Would you rather we make light of the reality?” B’lian asks with a faint smile at her shove. He’s too reserved to fully allow a full smile to be produced with the seriousness of their conversation. “It’s not easy to be in training, here or anywhere. The impulse that you’re //ready// and beyond the tasks is not something you share alone. As you said, your peer group is older. It’s a lot different than a group of twelve year olds who need to be reminded not to prank each other incessantly in the barracks.” He looks almost wistful when he shares that statement and then he shakes his head. He rocks back on his heels and clasps his hands behind his back at her statement regarding her future partnership. “I believe the entire point of having you go to Honshu is to remove an idiot Weyrlord,” he drawls, the first hint of sarcasm surfacing. “I would hope you find someone you enjoy working with when you go to Honshu.” He glances away from her, out towards the milling group of people that are going about their daily activities. “It is easy enough for a bronzerider to avoid more advanced duties should they want to.” He looks back to her. “It is harder still to find a place for your ambition that doesn’t offend your superiors.”

“I’d rather we make light of a lot,” Priska admits with another flash of a smile. “Whether I’m being sent there to get rid of an idiot or not, no-one seems to have realised that there stands just as high a chance of my ending up with a lazy fool as with someone actually suited for the job. I don’t mind hard work, but I don’t want to be forever looking over my shoulder worrying what he’s saying or how he’s embarrassing the Weyrhold.” She aims another shove at B’lian’s shoulder, more gently this time. “You know, I think that’s the most damning thing I’ve heard you say about anyone. ‘Idiot Weyrlord’.” Sighing, she gives a tiny twitch of her shoulders. “It’s funny, don’t you think? A Weyrleader is made so by chance. Who a queen chooses – or any dragon – is for her own needs. It’s no confirmation of ability. That ambition should offend feels… bizarre. And yet it’s true.”

“I am not a traditionalist by any means,” B’lian answers her with a hint of a smile at her shove again. “However, I don’t know how much you can change how the basic leadership is formed for a Weyr. It’s no different than a Hold. In a Hold, your leaders are born into the family and inherit the right to rule. I have yet to see anyone get elected to lead anything. A Weyr, a Hold… I think the crafters may be the only ones who have a system in place that requires their leaders to prove their worth.” He ruffles his hand through his hair and offers her a shrug at her mention of his words. “It’s hard to remain civil all the time,” he tells her as he finally allows a full smile. “And there’s something about you that makes me feel like… if I speak ill of someone… or point out that I am disliked by some for having ambition… you won’t hold the words against me.” He considers Priska fully when he adds, “I like that we’re friends.”

“I may have been born into inheritance by chance and chosen by a queen in much the same manner, but in the very least I trust that I’m competent,” Priska states without so much as a flicker of doubt. “But that much was by choice. I could’ve let myself grow to be a vain and spoiled thing and fully expected everyone around me to do my bidding for the rest of my days. Yet in that… there’s no self-respect, let alone the respect of those around you.” She idly smoothes a hand along Yedrith’s side as she tells B’lian, “The people who hold ambition against you are probably jealous, you know. They don’t know what they’re doing with their lives and take against people who do. I don’t think there’s harm in knowing what you want out of life.” Arching a brow, she declares, “As my friend, you’re duty bound to visit when they send us to oust the idiot’s memory.”

“Maybe they should have sent you to Telgar Weyr to clean-up the leadership there,” B’lian tells her with a half-smile. “The Weyrleader himself is prone to vanity and the Weyrwoman is exceedingly spoiled.” He shakes his head and dismisses the rest of his thoughts on his previous home as he steps closer to rest a hand briefly against the small of her back. “Of course we’d visit.” He seems ready to say something else before he drops his hand and moves back a step. “I should let you return to your knife wielding and novel,” he tells her with another hint of a smile. “Imahdth says he’ll stay to keep Yedrith company.” He seems like he’s preparing himself to say something else before his thoughts get hold of him and he shakes his head with a fuller smile. “It’s always a pleasure talking with you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns then and walks off in the direction of the living caverns.

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