16.Aug.12, 05:03 AM
What was the world coming to?
Talian sat by himself, stiff and numb. The young man swirled the klah in his cup and peered inwardly at his reflection, meeting his own tawny eyes and evaluating them as he would a patient.
It had been a whole turn now. Longer. He'd noticed the anniversary and chose to observe it in silence, sparing his friends any more of his perpetual complaining. They'd heard everything he had to say on the subject anyhow. He'd spent it alone, along with his birthday, and now the months were rolling by fast enough that he was surprised to realize just how much time had passed since those lonely days.
A whole turn. Back at home, his little girl was growing up. His father was aging. He knew it was so. Originally, it felt like he'd slipped into another dimension. He felt like everything would be fine when he got home. Now, with news of a daughter finally sinking in, he realized how far that was from the truth. Even thinking about home didn't quite feel right anymore. He wasn't sure what did feel right. All he knew is that he didn't want to be at Katila.
It was one thing for dragonriders to lash each other for breaking their laws, but the torture of prisoners really bothered Tal. He'd never spoken to anyone about just how deeply it bothered him, but the lashing of that young man only two days before had really gotten to the young healer. He sat there now, thinking over the event and the entire culture that surrounded him, and heaved a long sigh.
It was just wrong. Tal closed his eyes and thought about all the cruelties that had befallen him and his fellow northerners, not to mention the horrors the riders exposed even each other two.
This place is a volcano waiting to erupt he thought passively. As he sipped at his klah, he realized just how different his anger was these days. He'd lost his taste for bitter rage. He'd been reduced to a new level of stoicism; he'd survived everything this place could throw at him minus the whip. Ever since his encounter with J'ver, well...what else could the riders take from him?
He could wait them out. He'd waited his father out. He could wait anything out.
This was just another day. The clouds were dark, but it was a familiar sight to him. The clouds had always been dark. They always would be dark.
His eyes snapped open. Was I daydreaming again?
Talian sat by himself, stiff and numb. The young man swirled the klah in his cup and peered inwardly at his reflection, meeting his own tawny eyes and evaluating them as he would a patient.
It had been a whole turn now. Longer. He'd noticed the anniversary and chose to observe it in silence, sparing his friends any more of his perpetual complaining. They'd heard everything he had to say on the subject anyhow. He'd spent it alone, along with his birthday, and now the months were rolling by fast enough that he was surprised to realize just how much time had passed since those lonely days.
A whole turn. Back at home, his little girl was growing up. His father was aging. He knew it was so. Originally, it felt like he'd slipped into another dimension. He felt like everything would be fine when he got home. Now, with news of a daughter finally sinking in, he realized how far that was from the truth. Even thinking about home didn't quite feel right anymore. He wasn't sure what did feel right. All he knew is that he didn't want to be at Katila.
It was one thing for dragonriders to lash each other for breaking their laws, but the torture of prisoners really bothered Tal. He'd never spoken to anyone about just how deeply it bothered him, but the lashing of that young man only two days before had really gotten to the young healer. He sat there now, thinking over the event and the entire culture that surrounded him, and heaved a long sigh.
It was just wrong. Tal closed his eyes and thought about all the cruelties that had befallen him and his fellow northerners, not to mention the horrors the riders exposed even each other two.
This place is a volcano waiting to erupt he thought passively. As he sipped at his klah, he realized just how different his anger was these days. He'd lost his taste for bitter rage. He'd been reduced to a new level of stoicism; he'd survived everything this place could throw at him minus the whip. Ever since his encounter with J'ver, well...what else could the riders take from him?
He could wait them out. He'd waited his father out. He could wait anything out.
This was just another day. The clouds were dark, but it was a familiar sight to him. The clouds had always been dark. They always would be dark.
His eyes snapped open. Was I daydreaming again?