19.Nov.20, 02:36 PM
Feet heavy and slow, Alekse pushed himself the last mile up to the Weyr entrance. He had no message bundle in his pouch, having left it at station 42, which would be his new home for the time being. He’d met the old Master with a hearty handshake in greeting before a quick discussion of what his new duties would be. Starting the evening after next. Master Venan had given the time allowance with a wink, knowing the young man would be weary after his cross-continent run, and knowing from the number of letters back and forth through the station between Alekse and his special someone, that the he had another destination in mind, anyway. The old Runner had urged Alekse to stay and rest, but no…he was so close. Only a day’s run to the Weyr. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving. Don’t stop.
The tunnel, dark, damp and cold, opened out into the bowl of Benden Weyr. He blinked into the last rays of sunlight that glinted off of the dragon-claw-smoothed ledges, worn down from centuries of winged occupants. Stopping to take in the massiveness of it all, he felt, like he often did on lonely runs when he broke stride to take in a sunrise or watch a storm crawl across the horizon, that he was only a small, insignificant piece of something so much bigger. Figures of dragons and people milled about the Weyr, each set to some unknown task, and he marveled at the simple beauty of everything moving so well together in the ebb and flow of elegant, everyday life. The subtle spiciness of the massive creatures drifted across the light breeze, and he breathed the smell in deep.
At the edge of the Weyr bowl a child squealed in excited play, and he watched a group of young ones chase each other from what must be creche. A smile touched his lips at that. Then a blonde figure emerged from the lower caverns, calling to the little dark-haired girl -Zarel, he realized- not to run.
He’d only met this woman the one time, but he recognized her immediately, and his smile grew. The weight in his legs was still there, but somewhere he found a reserve of strength and willingness to move his bone-weary self forward again, and he strode lightly down to her.
She was facing away from him, and he stopped about a dragonlength behind her, savoring the moment. This moment, watching her call after her child, in her Weyr, just…her. Regardless of how she might respond, whether or not the sparks between them had faded or kept burning, he just wanted to live in this moment. Right here, right now, just as it was. There was nothing else that mattered. After what felt like an entirely too-short time, he spoke.
“No running…” he said, just loud enough to be heard by her. “Does that apply to me, too?”
The tunnel, dark, damp and cold, opened out into the bowl of Benden Weyr. He blinked into the last rays of sunlight that glinted off of the dragon-claw-smoothed ledges, worn down from centuries of winged occupants. Stopping to take in the massiveness of it all, he felt, like he often did on lonely runs when he broke stride to take in a sunrise or watch a storm crawl across the horizon, that he was only a small, insignificant piece of something so much bigger. Figures of dragons and people milled about the Weyr, each set to some unknown task, and he marveled at the simple beauty of everything moving so well together in the ebb and flow of elegant, everyday life. The subtle spiciness of the massive creatures drifted across the light breeze, and he breathed the smell in deep.
At the edge of the Weyr bowl a child squealed in excited play, and he watched a group of young ones chase each other from what must be creche. A smile touched his lips at that. Then a blonde figure emerged from the lower caverns, calling to the little dark-haired girl -Zarel, he realized- not to run.
He’d only met this woman the one time, but he recognized her immediately, and his smile grew. The weight in his legs was still there, but somewhere he found a reserve of strength and willingness to move his bone-weary self forward again, and he strode lightly down to her.
She was facing away from him, and he stopped about a dragonlength behind her, savoring the moment. This moment, watching her call after her child, in her Weyr, just…her. Regardless of how she might respond, whether or not the sparks between them had faded or kept burning, he just wanted to live in this moment. Right here, right now, just as it was. There was nothing else that mattered. After what felt like an entirely too-short time, he spoke.
“No running…” he said, just loud enough to be heard by her. “Does that apply to me, too?”