Aftershock.

Writers: Leigh M-F.
Date Posted: 27th October 2016

Characters: A'kua
Description: He's out of the infirmary, but that doesn't mean he's healed.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 8, day 13 of Turn 8
Notes: Mentioned: Firelloa, Ilyssia

The healers had said he could leave today. There was no sign of infection in the Threadscores, and they were healing as expected. He'd been sent off with disinfecting ointments that would keep his skin pliable, given a warning that the bandages couldn't come off for good until the morning, and told if he experienced any pain, he had to see a healer again.

Zeiranth was practically dancing in delight, warbling over the fact his rider was cleared to go back to his weyr and resume his life. A'kua was just glad he'd been told he shouldn't go into Threadfall tomorrow, and vaguely ill at the thought of having to go to the one after.

}:Gwynnyth says her rider says she can't wait to meet you for dinner, and of course Firelloa will be happy to see you all better, and soon we'll graduate. That's what the adult dragons are saying their riders are talking about, the graduation. They want to have a nice feast,:{ Zeiranth babbled as he landed on his ledge. }:Then you and Ilyssia can move in together and Gwynnyth and I can bask together all the time, and- :{

"Aye, sounds good," A'kua said distractedly, sliding off and pushing the curtain aside, entering the weyr.

}:Hurry and change, then I can take you down for dinner,:{ the bronze said, drumming his forepaws on the ledge.

"Sure." It was too cold for the short-sleeved tunic Lys had brought him; she had been worried one of his long-sleeved shirts would be too snug on his limbs. He appreciated the thought, since she was right, but A'kua needed something warmer now that the gauze wrappings had been reduced to a single layer.

The redhead took off his shirt and set it aside, selecting a dark gray tunic with long sleeves and a high collar, and his fingerless gloves. He made to dress, only to pause. The light color of the bandages were stark on his skin, reminding him he had avoided looking at the scores each time the bandages were changed and the wounds were washed. He hadn't been able to bring himself to see how bad it really was. He hadn't wanted to know because he knew too much already.

But some sick compulsion made him unwrap the bandages and have a look now, and A'kua wished he hadn't given in to it. The scores had scabbed over, soon to become scars, running from just below his elbows to the backs of his hands, nearly identical in the way they looped around his forearms. When the scabs flaked off, there would be weird patches of skin with hair missing, paler than the rest of his tan, creating faint grooves in his flesh; barely noticeable from a few feet away, but definitely enough to feel a difference if he was touched. There might even be a vague loss of sensation.

Ancients, he'd been so close.... so close to-

A'kua swallowed hard against a rush of nausea, trembles creeping up his spine and seeping into his arms as warmth drained from his body. Fear rose to choke him even as he wanted to vomit, and all he could think was how much he _didn't_ want to deliver firestone again, much less actually fight Thread, because luck was finite and-

}:A'KUA!:{

The weyrling snapped back to himself, realizing he was hyperventilating and crossing his forearms against his chest again, shaking uncontrollably.

}:A'kua, listen, it's okay. You're okay. We're safe. You're safe. Deep breaths, come on- that's it, nice and slow. In and out. In and out,:{ Zeiranth coached, crawling into the weyr as far as he could. He crooned in accompaniment to his words, sending love and encouragement to his rider through their bond. }:Come here. Good, good, there we go,:{ he said as A'kua staggered to his side to be covered with a wing. }:It's all right, I have you now. Everything's going to be okay, I know it. I'll protect you.:{

It took some time, but warmth did return to A'kua, as did sufficient oxygen. He stepped out from under his bronze's wing to touch the dragon's face. "Thanks, Zei," he mumbled.

}:Do you need to skip dinner? Maybe order in?:{ Zeiranth offered.

A'kua shook his head. "No. No, I- I'm fine." That was a lie and they both knew it, but if he didn't go down, he'd just worry Lys and Firelloa again. That wasn't supposed to happen. He found his dropped tunic and drew it on, the soft fabric covering the wounds, as did his gloves. He wanted a riding jacket too, for an additional layer of "armor", but he would have to go to the storage rooms to find a new one. This would have to work for now. He climbed back onto Zeiranth once the bronze had moved back onto his ledge. "Let's go down."

Zeiranth spread his wings and launched, and A'kua tried to ignore the twisting of his guts and the remaining tremor in his fingers as they went down.

Last updated on the November 30th 2016

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Aftershock.