29.Jul.19, 08:27 PM
Beckitt struggled briefly against Misha’s grasp, not really registering what was being said. After a few moments of being held, though, he sagged into the arms around him, resigned. He nodded absently, agreeing with admonishments he didn’t even hear, as the adrenaline faded and his brain took over again. Even when the weyrlingmaster gave permission for them to approach again, he hesitated, loath to lose contact. He rose shakily and squeezed Misharan’s hand tightly, then walked toward one of the two remaining eggs. He had promised himself he would do this, and he would see it through no matter what.
Stepping closer to the egg, he took a deep breath, centering himself and trying to brace himself against whatever mental onslaught would come. He began projecting reassurances before his hand even touched the shell. It would be all right. Just trust in the candidates. Trust in your chosen.
Why bother? It won’t change anything. You’ll still be motherless and your father still won’t care. The dragonet wordlessly reflected his anxieties back at him, amplifying them with its untrained mindspeech. He barely even knows you exist, why would he care if you had a dragon? It doesn’t matter if you impress a bronze, it will never be enough.
Beckitt ground his teeth in frustration and did his best to tamp down the anxieties. So what? he asked. You’re right; he won’t ever change. But I would. I would have a partner for life. You will too, soon enough. All of you. Someone to protect you, to love you unconditionally, to stand up for you. But you have to trust us. With that, his hand fell away from the surface, he swallowed hard, and turned to the last egg.
Just like before, he took a breath and grounded himself. Let himself feel the heat of the sands radiating off the shells and the walls, focused, then reached out. But as soon as he touched the egg it didn’t matter--Beckitt was falling. Tripping while learning to walk. Falling down a flight of stairs. Slipping off the neck of a dragon whose straps had broken. Losing his grip on a climb due to bad rock and tumbling down the side of the Bowl. Falling forever between, screaming and freezing and helpless as the dragon left him behind.
He barely resisted the strong urge to shove off as he broke contact with the final egg. He still felt cold and he could feel the scream bubbling in his throat waiting for an excuse to get out. Shaken, he stepped back, waiting for the others. What an awful day.
Stepping closer to the egg, he took a deep breath, centering himself and trying to brace himself against whatever mental onslaught would come. He began projecting reassurances before his hand even touched the shell. It would be all right. Just trust in the candidates. Trust in your chosen.
Why bother? It won’t change anything. You’ll still be motherless and your father still won’t care. The dragonet wordlessly reflected his anxieties back at him, amplifying them with its untrained mindspeech. He barely even knows you exist, why would he care if you had a dragon? It doesn’t matter if you impress a bronze, it will never be enough.
Beckitt ground his teeth in frustration and did his best to tamp down the anxieties. So what? he asked. You’re right; he won’t ever change. But I would. I would have a partner for life. You will too, soon enough. All of you. Someone to protect you, to love you unconditionally, to stand up for you. But you have to trust us. With that, his hand fell away from the surface, he swallowed hard, and turned to the last egg.
Just like before, he took a breath and grounded himself. Let himself feel the heat of the sands radiating off the shells and the walls, focused, then reached out. But as soon as he touched the egg it didn’t matter--Beckitt was falling. Tripping while learning to walk. Falling down a flight of stairs. Slipping off the neck of a dragon whose straps had broken. Losing his grip on a climb due to bad rock and tumbling down the side of the Bowl. Falling forever between, screaming and freezing and helpless as the dragon left him behind.
He barely resisted the strong urge to shove off as he broke contact with the final egg. He still felt cold and he could feel the scream bubbling in his throat waiting for an excuse to get out. Shaken, he stepped back, waiting for the others. What an awful day.