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• • G'taeo and Xerbith • • • Long-lived grief for a short life • by Neishai Now was a time of greater happiness than G'taeo had known in a very long time. But the young man with the sunny smile and a dragon with the nickname of "the sunshine-dragon" stared out over the crater from the ledge with a melancholic expression as he held a steaming cup of tea to his lips. Sighing, he leaned against the entrance to his room. He looked forward to his brother's visit later on in the day with his young Red, Uaillikenth, so that they could go over some flight exercises D'lrik had suggested to strengthen their dragons' wing and leg muscles. On his shoulder sat a young flit barely older than the dragons, a Brown with the strangest tail-fins (he didn't know what else to call them!) he had ever seen. Vanhi, before his Impression to Xerbith, had been his only source of comfort in those late-night hours between midnight and dawn when he awoke in a cold sweat, heart pounding against his chest as he fought back the tears and the creeping shadows. He waged that war within even now, despite the void filled by his flit and dragon. As much love as he could lavish upon those closest to him, there would always be that "little death" encapsulated within his heart, set aside for the one he loved most in the world. Layla. He had realized once, on a day when the sun had finally melted the last of the season's frost, warm wind tracing ripples in the fields of grain, playing with willow fronds and locks of mousy-blond ringlets, that she was the woman he would one day marry. He knew that if she had gone off to study a craft, he would have waited for her; if she had decided to move to another locale, he would have gamely followed. He almost had…if it hadn't been for Gato. And how long had it been since she died, how much had happened to turn their lives upside down since then, and yet he couldn't let her go? He released a ragged breath, watching the clouds fade from fiery orange and magenta to neon-cream and yellow, then finally to white. Vanhi, on his shoulder, yawned and with his dark-brown tail around the man's neck, tickled him on the chin with his forked fin. He earned himself a tender smile and a thorough head massage. "What would I do without you Vanhi?" Gero murmured, sitting down on the stone ledge with his legs stretched out before him so that he could set the mug down to give the little flitter his full attention. Xerbith was not an early riser, which, oddly enough, made sunrise Vanhi's favorite time of day. Vanhi enjoyed Xerbith's company, but he liked nothing better than G'taeo's undivided attention. The flit's euphoric chitters and crooning were what finally awoke the young Yellow. • • • On a timeworn stone couch in the shadows, Xerbith stretched his young lithe body and yawned mightily. A pale greenish tinge that spanned his entire body slowly faded as he took several deep, cleansing breaths. The knot in his belly unwound as it let out a hungry gurgle. Turning to face the outdoors, he saw G'taeo's shadow creeping in through the door, moving toward it. He was not surprised to find him with the little flit. Gero glanced up at Xerbith with a smile, rising to his feet stretching. He hugged the dragon's neck, scratching an itch he intuitively knew was there. Such was the bond of man and dragon. "How did you sleep, Xerbith?" |
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Not well, again, the dragon replied with a little reluctance, but his troubled eyes and pallor told him all he needed to know. Gero sighed, hanging his head. "I'm sorry. It's my fault." He knew that the intimate mental bond between humans and dragons was far-reaching. It went beyond simple intuition, or even telepathy. Once bonded, a pair knew when the other was feeling unwell, their deepest emotions, and even some of their most carefully guarded secrets. Very little was excluded unless a serious effort was made to block the other out, which even then might not go undetected. It was, therefore, only natural that Gero's long-suffered grief was not lost upon his dragon. In fact, Xerbith's dreams had been especially distressing of late. Please don't blame yourself, Gero, the dragon said gently, using his rider's nickname with particular fondness. He lay down on the ledge next to him, and turned his head to regard the man. G'taeo sat down and leaned against Xerbith's shoulder. Vanhi took his place on the blonde's shoulder. "But if I am impeding my own dragon's health…" His protest trailed off, his whole body tense with so many mixed emotions. "What kind of rider am I?" Not everyone carries your burden. The dragon's eyes shown with love and admiration. You do not shame yourself in public with your actions; you have many friends that enjoy your company. I think that She would be very proud of you. Xerbith put a particular emphasis on the pronoun that gave it the feel of an appellation, which Gero appreciated. The dragon tried to avoid the woman's name, as if its mention would cause him more pain. I am happy to help you through this, ridermine. I believe we were brought together to guide one another throughout our lives, don't you think so? Wordlessly, Gero nodded. "I just… it's just so hard to let her go. She should never have died." Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he leaned his head against soft, lemony-yellow dragon hide. I know. Like no one else can, I know. |