There are 2 messages in this issue.
Topics in this digest:
1. Prodigal Son II
From: Allen Veazey <veazeyae@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
2. [DL-W] The Smallest of Talk
From: "Katrina Gischer" <kgischer@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
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Message: 1
Date: Wed, 22 Sep 2004 14:05:12 -0500
From: Allen Veazey <veazeyae@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: Prodigal Son II
>It did not take Ari long to get lost within and totally focussed on
her
patient.
Ari noticed scars and burns and felt her heart grip as she recognized
them
from being from the wraiths. She linked her tears away, and the
unbidden
thoughts of J'red and moved on. She loved the feel of her scales, how
her
colors shimmered and mottled in the sunlight.
>*Tell me how ye feel Wyndamenth* Ari asked softly. *Share with me
what ya
can so I can help thee*
The dragon's head swung around, and she regarded Ari
with one huge blue-black eye. <You can understand me,>
she thought. <Ash told me there were those who could...
I've never talked to a human telepath before.> Her eyes
half-closed as Ari began to scratch at sensitive ridges along
her neck. <I feel weak, all the time... I was sick, not long
ago. We were in the mountains, the wastes. Ash said it was...
what did he say? A malady... a plague.> There was a definite
feeling of disgust. <He stuffed plants and things in my kills,
before I ate them. He said they would make me better. They
tasted awful.> A pause. <I felt less sick... but weak. Ash
was afraid. He said in the Wastelands, everything is strange.
Even sickness.> Her eyes opened, widened. <And then I
could hear his thoughts. I could not do that before... not
since L'vee.>
Meanwhile, her rider had stepped back, shaking his head
at J'red. "Missing?" he whispered. "Maybe dead? Trinale?"
He turned, laid a hand against Wyndamenth's side, even as
Ari was scratching her neck. *Wyn, we're leaving.*
<No.>
*What do you mean, "No"?* He sighed audibly. *Wyn,
Trinale is gone from here. You don't understand. I knew
her. I knew she'd help. Whiteriver is nothing like it was...
we're alone here. I can't protect you, or myself. There's
no one to fall back on, no one to help.*
<Ari helps.>
*Dragonhealer or no, she's not in charge. There are a lot
of people... riders... who wouldn't mind seeing me dead.*
<You haven't asked Chrysthal's rider.> Wyn turned her
head to look at Ash. <We talked about this. You said we
had to do it. Nothing has changed. You have to trust.>
*That will get us killed.*
<No one has tried yet. And I can get better. Isn't that
what you wanted?>
That brought Ash up short. He stared into her huge eye,
then a long look at Ari, at J'red.
*Yes,* he thought, finally. He tried not to slump as he
turned back to J'red; he was almost as exhausted as his
dragon. "Perhaps we had best go see this Merissa," he said.
*********
She was young, younger than he expected. Ash'chenon
sighed to himself. They were all so young. Or he was
getting old. He was suprised by the streak of orange in
her hair; Cosmetic? was the first thought in his head, but
he suspected it was much more than that.
"You were Trinale's junior queenrider," he said, simply.
He did not remember her at all. Probably Joined after
he had left. He simply stood there, confident that she
would figure out who he was. Everyone knew who he
was, that was the problem...
"I'm Ash'chenon," he confirmed for her, after she obviously
had worked out the ramifications. "My dragon is very
sick... I need your help. I need time, to let her heal. I
need your protection, your countenance. Even though
I was pardoned, there are those... well. You can imagine."
He paused. "We need to stay here... otherwise, one or
the other of us may die. Whatever you want in return, if
it's in my power to do so, I'll do it."
*********
Day 12
Late Morning
Wyndamenth obediently stretched out a wing, tried not to
make a noise as it was prodded, another scraping taken.
<...and this was from a wraith,> she thought. <They hide
in the wastelands, out of the reach of most riders. Since we
were unjoined, we could stay out there... until the last few
weeks.> There was a pause. <You asked why... why we
stayed out there. The stories... the ones the dragons are
telling each other. They're true, almost all of them.> Another
pause. <Ash was a wraith... what you call hellspawn. He
was gone from me, for a long time. He attacked Geode...
he really did leave Whiteriver to die. He massed many humans
together to kill one of the human Lords. He killed a dragon,
trying to drug it to sleep and keep it out of the way.>
Wyndamenth turned her head away. <I was there. His thoughts
are so filled with guilt. Sometimes I think I am the only
reason he stays alive, especially when Sunny and Ipsy's
rider left us. So many in Telnor hated him...> She paused.
<Did I say too much?> But before she could receive an
answer, the blue turned her head and looked up at the
ceiling of the cavern. She sent out a mental call.
<Ash, Cara is here! And her rider!>
*Who are they?* came the response. Wyndamenth wasn't sure
what Ash was doing, but he sounded preoccupied.
<You remember them. At Telnor, when they
forgave you. They left about that time.>
*I don't... oh. Yes, I do. Eleanora. Something about
Sandor...* He paused. *Someone to avoid.*
<That's not what she says,> Wyn thought. <I talk to
Cara, even now... you both are acting the same. You
avoid notice. So does she. There is no hate.>
A pause. *Where is her rider?*
<The Dining Hall,> Wyn responded. <What are you
doing? I can't tell... your thoughts are hidden.>
<<Getting an apartment,>> came Sol's voice. <<He
doesn't want to admit we need to stay here a long
time while you recover. He talked to Dalmar... who
happens to be Trap's cousin.>>
*Shut up, Sol...*
Wyndamenth relaxed. <Good. I like talking to the others.
I like all the talking and listening. I forgot how it feels.>
She could hear the mental sigh. *I will go to speak
with Eleanora,* Ash thought. *If you're right, we'll need
all the friends we can find.*
His mental voice broke off, and Wyn relaxed again,
listening to the humming that Ari was making while
she massaged the dragon's wing.
******
"Eleanora." Ash had brought food, but it was a front; he
wasn't hungry at all. Neither, it appeared, was she. "May
I sit here?"
<tag- Katrina, Carys, Arlene, John>
Summary: Wyndamenth goes for her initial checkup,
while Ash meets with Merissa, Dalmar and Eleanora.
Allen Veazey
veazeyae@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
'chenon and Wyndamenth
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Message: 2
Date: Wed, 22 Sep 2004 15:51:33 -0700
From: "Katrina Gischer" <kgischer@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: [DL-W] The Smallest of Talk
Day 12
late morning
[snip]
"Eleanora." Ash had brought food, but it was a front; he wasn't hungry
at all. Neither, it appeared, was she. "May I sit here?"
[end snip]
Shifting her food back and forth across her plate, Eleanora decided
that her stomach was simply too unsettled to try and eat. Just as
she'd decided to give it up as a lost cause and change her hiding
place from this corner to her office a shadow fell across the table.
Curious, she glanced upwards and felt her insides shrivel.
His use of her name only confirmed that he must remember her - dashing
one of her hopes. His presence in front of her dashed the other one.
Avoiding him was apparently not an option. Between her mother's strict
upbringing on manners and Cara's non-stop lecture on NOT being shy,
there were simply no choices. Despite her wanting to forget Telnor
and anything that reminded her of it, there was only one polite
response. She managed a weak smile and a nod.
He sat and a long, uncomfortable silence descended. At length her
nerve broke and El raised her hands to sign as bland a greeting as
possible when she realized that Ash'chenon probably didn't sign and
her hands sank down into her lap. She would have to speak. After
several swallows, she managed a barely audible murmur. "So,
Ash'chenon, uh...what brings you to Whiteriver?"
{Tag right back, Allen. If you'd like to JP, just email me or pop on
ICQ this weekend.}________________________________
Submitted by:
Katrina aka Eleanora and Cara
Summary:
Day 12
Eleanora swallows her fears and lets Ash sit with her, opening with
the an old standard.
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