World of Pern
[G] [P] 740.12.13 | Line and Shadow - Printable Version

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740.12.13 | Line and Shadow - L'gan - 28.Jan.20

L'gan slipped into the library at the Hall, needing a change of scenery while he worked on a few reports. Most of the others were still in the dining hall, so hopefully he'd be able to grab a less crowded spot at a table near the (admittedly sparse) dragonhealing shelves. Though apparently he wasn't the only one with that idea.

"Does your father have any idea you're reading these," he asked, slipping into a seat next to Vaera. The girl had several of the old dragon anatomy books spread out on the table, a few of which he needed for his reports. L'gan gave her a small smile. "I poured over them when I was younger, back before the dragons returned. No one thought they would, but I just had to hope."

He got a better look at some of the pages spread out on the table, clearly personal notes, since the handwriting matched the sheet she'd been writing on when he sat. His brow creased in confusion as he pulled one over. "Where did you find this information? These diagrams... they're not from the studies of Thallyath's clutch. Did the Harpers deliver a new folio or something?"

Reluctantly he added, "these are really good." The drawings were clearly from the abandoned Weyrs, skeletal remains still curled up or in agonized twisting positions. Others had been posed more like the human anatomical drawings from the atlases, showing where muscles and tendons might attach. But almost all the drawings were clearly adult dragons.

"Vaera," L'gan said quietly, "please tell me you and your friends haven't been snooping around the abandoned Weyrs. It isn't safe, and it's enormously disrespectful."


RE: 740.12.13 | Line and Shadow - Vaera - 09.Feb.20

Vaera hadn’t expected to see diagrams of dragon skeletons when she went into her father’s office to borrow a book. He’d always let her borrow books off his shelf, never wanting to squash her curiosity, even if he had moved a number of books to the highest shelf to keep her from physically getting her hands on them. It didn’t take her long to borrow his desk chair to use as a step-stool. Technically the notes and diagrams in a small pile on his desk weren’t a book, but Vaera didn’t see why the same principle didn’t apply. Dragons were rather fascinating, and it was tragic how much of the knowledge of them had died with the vast majority of the dragonriders. The diagrams were clearly from someone who had investigated the Weyrs in the turns between the Plague and the dragonrider’s return, based on some of the notes she found in the margins (the ones she could read at least, the original handwriting was atrocious). Vaera had quickly taken a few sheets off the top of the stack and set about making copies of the diagrams held within, and as much of the writing as she could make out, mostly thoughts about articulation and where muscles and ligaments likely attached.

Once she had the diagrams traced and the notes scribbled down, Vaera replaced the originals on the desk and relocated to the Hall library to re-write some of the hastily copied notes in a neater, more organized fashion. She was about halfway through when L’gan found her.

“First of all,” Vaera said, a little miffed at the implications L’gan had made, “Who would take me to an abandoned Weyr, hmn? Zezeth? Hardly.” She almost said something dismissive about how studying a skeleton was in no way disrespectful, but she restrained herself. Really, if there were any left in Igen or High Reaches the Weyrs should bring them to the Healer Hall for further study. It was always better to have a proper hands-on model one could work with, Master Terandin said as much all the time. “And anyway, I didn’t go anywhere outside this Hall. Da had them in his office, and I made copies.” Very painstaking copies, held up to the windows so Vaera could trace all the lines exactly using the light going through the paper.

“Though if you’re really worried about it, I can go put them away,” she said as she began gathering her papers and notes into a pile, still somewhat annoyed at what felt like L’gan accusing her of - of stealing, and trespassing, and being disrespectful of dragonriders. Fine, then. He didn’t have to see them. He could wait until Verec released copies to the general Healer population. That had to be what he was doing, anyway, looking at these diagrams he’d dug up from somewhere to see what might now be useful, since the Hall was working with the Weyrs more and more. Vaera knew a lot of the dragon books and documents had been lost or misplaced over the turns, thought irrelevant, and it was very like her father to go over everything rediscovered to make sure it had value - though Vaera couldn’t see how these diagrams wouldn’t be amazingly helpful, but perhaps he was arranging for a Harper to make copies, or even a bound book, before sharing them widely. That sounded like her father, after all.


RE: 740.12.13 | Line and Shadow - L'gan - 09.Feb.20

L’gan’s expression softened slightly as Vaera replied to his question with typical teenage angst and outrage. “I didn’t mean to accuse or judge, it’s just… these are clearly from the abandoned Weyrs. Since dragons typically go between when they die, we just don’t have these sorts of records.”

He saw the look on her face as she clearly decided against saying something else. “I understand the desire to learn from physical remains, but this isn’t a cadaver willed to the Hall for study. Thallyath graciously allowed us to study her clutch, but that was a deviation from the norm. Whoever did these,” he said, looking at the page he still held in his hands, “went into an abandoned Weyr and poked through the lives of riders and their dragons. I understand why, and I admire their skills, but as a rider… It makes me a little sick.”

As she began to gather her things up in a huff, he reached over and laid a hand over hers. “Don’t, please. I would still like to see them, if you’ll allow me. I can disagree with the methods and still recognize the value in the illustrations.” He traded her the drawing he had for one of the others as she reluctantly sat again


RE: 740.12.13 | Line and Shadow - Vaera - 12.Feb.20

Vaera seethed at the hand on hers, trying very hard not to snatch both her hand and the paper L’gan was looking at back. It was so terribly patronizing of him! How dare he tell her the drawings and notes she’d spent so much time copying exactly shouldn’t exist, just to want to look at them himself? What right did he have to look at her work or the original artist’s work if he was going to talk down about it so? None. None at all, and thus decided she held her hand out expectantly until L’gan got the message and returned the paper she held, and Vaera returned it to the others, putting the last of the pages in place.

“Well,” Vaera said, tilting her head so she could look up at L’gan defiantly, “if they make you sick I’d be a poor excuse for a Healer if I let you remain exposed to them.” And she stood up, chair squeaking in protest as she shoved it back, all her papers firmly gathered in her arms. With a last petulant look at L’gan she flounced off, leaving the library behind altogether.

Instead, she headed back to the cluster of rooms that belonged to the Masterhealer and his family. Her father’s official office was elsewhere in the Hall, but he still had something of a small study in one of their rooms. Turns ago, even before he’d been Masterhealer but after he’d gotten a proper suite in the Hall, he’d set up a small desk near his for Vaera, and when they’d gone to the bigger rooms, the desk had come too. While she had graduated from drawing stick people on her father’s trash pieces of paper - “Much better than the useless prattle of idiots they used to contain” - to taking real notes and doing real work, she’d never gotten a bigger desk. Most of the time Vaera used the library or their dining table for real work, but sometimes she went back to the slightly too small one. Usually when she was feeling upset in some fashion, as she was after L’gan insulted her and her notes. She’d wanted a place her father was less likely to find the copies, since they weren’t exactly made with his permission, but the childhood desk was clearly the superior option today. No nosy, moralizing greenriders to be found there.