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 Posted: Tue Jul 30, 2019 3:12 pm
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Posted: Tue Jul 30, 2019 3:21 pm
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Dear Va'shir,
As you've probably guessed by now I'm writing to you from Igen, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before all of this was all revealed but we couldn't risk word getting out in the south. I'm sorry that I've come, too. I know we both hated the thought of only having letters but at least it meant you still had me, probably for a good number of turns, but now Nemanath's time is most likely to be limited and so too mine. I understand if you're furious with me, I understand if you hate me, but this was something we had to do. After your brother and your sister -
I had the opportunity to do something, and M'rio needed supporters. Truth be told I've been unhappy in the South since my transfer too, and all those things together were enough to bring me back here despite knowing that it will probably kill Nemanath.
Please come and see me if your duties allow, and bring the others too.
I hope you're well, and I hope that you can forgive me.
Your loving father,
S'var
As he signed off the letter S'var sighed and rubbed his forehead, set aside the sheet of paper, and pulled another forward to start penning a similar letter. Between children, grandchildren, and all-but children, this was going to be a long evening.
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Posted: Sat Aug 03, 2019 12:33 pm
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"What about the chair?" S'var ran a hand over the smooth wood of the high-backed, intricately carved seat. "It came with us all the way from Telgar," he murmured sadly, he already knew what the answer was.
I believe the space it would take up on my harness would be better filled by supplies for the group S'var. Nemanath's voice was as clipped and cool as ever, each word carefully weighed, but the presence behind the voice remained warm, strong, and comforting. You said one personal bag.
S'var rubbed his jaw and nodded slowly as he drank in the details of the chair, just a chair, but one he'd had for more than forty turns now. Was it nearly fifty turns? Shards, it was. "I did say that, didn't I?"
Nemanath didn't answer the rhetorical question verbally but he did press his presence closer against his rider's mind.
"That's that decided then," S'var said firmly as he turned away to his bookshelf. Perhaps if Nemanath survived the northern plague he could have the chair sent over by ship, assuming nobody appropriated it in the interim. "And how am I to choose from among all of these?" he wondered aloud as he took a volume from a shelf at random and smoothed his hand down the spine. "Perhaps I could take two bags?" Two bags wasn't asking too much, Nemanath was among the largest dragons making the journey and so they were already more than pulling their weight in terms of hauling supplies.
Silence followed from Nemanath, and then there came a sigh from S'var.
"I know, it doesn't work like that." They could take more and so they should, it wasn't an excuse to load up with personal possessions. "One bag then." All his life in one bag and as for the rest, the things he was forced to leave behind....
"I'll leave a note, give some things away, ask friends to keep others safe and if we make it...."
We will send for them. The books. The chair. The things that matter.
"Yes," S'var nodded, smiling just a little and just a little sadly as he set the book back on the shelf. "But we have what really matters already." With that he turned to walk through his weyr and out onto Nemanath's ledge, where the brown was already facing him. As he reached a hand up the hulking dragon lowered his great head and pressed his muzzle ever-so gently into his rider's palm.
There were no more words between them at that time, they were not needed.
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