====July 14th, 2013
====Jedi
====Jedi considers the interview, among other things.

Llioramasith's Weyr
This weyr looks very much transitory, as if it's new occupants haven't quite finished settling in yet. There are some boxes, some crates, and lots of cleaning supplies around. A cot sits in one corner, presumably until the cleaning is finished and new furniture procured.

After that fardling interview, I visited a few people I know that have also defected to Southern Weyr. Defected, we sound like a bunch of deserters.. Transferred, then. We've transferred. En masse.

I drop my helmet and goggles onto the crate by the door even as I shed the outer layers of my riding leathers. It may be autumn here at Southern, but it is fardling hot all the same. I am briefly reminded of my relatively short time upon Ista Island. First as a wanderer, and then as an Apprentice to the Smithcraft at Ista Weyr. The thought of some of my escapades there brings a smile to my face, and I briefly let myself relive some of those feelings again.

My thoughts then turn to how I returned to my birth weyr of High Reaches, how I didn't except the turn of events even though I was a candidate. For a moment, my mind's hands trace the soft shell that was hiding the one who would change my life forever as I remember the moss and stone facade the egg wore. As my mind replays how his egg fell, and how he burst forth from it, my eyes open again, and meet his whirling green-blue ones. He's pleased for the moment, he thinks it went well.

Not so sure, am I. Weyrleader Q'fex isn't someone I trust, despite the fact that he is indeed now my weyrleader. I both know I'll have to tread carefully, and that I'll have to keep an eye on him. I don't doubt for a moment that he'll burn me the second he sees an opportunity.

I shake the thought from my head as I recall weyrlinghood with my beloved Llioramasith, and the friends I both made…and lost…there. For a moment, my lips press together tightly. It's not often I call him to mind. Before I Jumped forward to join Mother in this time, it had been Turns since I'd seen him. Now I know it's highly unlikely I'll ever see him again. Just like so many others among my family. My heart clenches in both anger and sorrow, and I cross to Lli, and undo the buckles to set him free from the straps. We can get them on quickly enough again if need be, and for the time being…we're staying here, in this weyr.

Our weyr.

It'll be awhile before this place feels like home. But then…perhaps not. Although I loved High Reaches Weyr, a part of me had always held back from truly unpacking, from opening more than a box or two at a time. The same went for Igen Weyr. Even when he was with us, it hadn't really felt like home.

Warm hide presses against my fingertips, and I send a rush of affection to my brown. We can fully close our link for a time if we want to, but rarely has that desire ever crossed. Rarely have we ever actually concealed things from one another, and he knows how I feel right now.

"I'm fine," I say aloud, even as emotions war within me.

His mind draws me in, and for a moment all is dark. I let my mind walk forward, knowing exactly where in his mind he's taking me, and when the darkness lifts, I am right. There is no place as sacred between us as the garden-balcony overlooking the lake. This is a place he shows no one else, the place we can truly relax with each other. This is home. The sky is tinted with orange as the suns set, but I can see the moons rising in the opposite direction, ever so slowly. It may be midday outside, but that matters not here. Only once I have readjusted do I hear the breathing.

….khhhhh…..pffffhhhh….khhhhh….

"Lli," I begin to say, before he lets me feel his love for me, and I can't help but to smile.

He was insignificant. He was nothing.

Despite it all, I can't quite agree. "You know that's not true, for a little while, he was…" It's a fight to find the right words, but I finally settle for, "he was important. Perhaps long-term, not so much so, but for a little while…" A smile crosses my face again. It's not one of the scary ones I wear, or the sweet ones, but a genuine one, one of the ones I rarely give people other than family. "For a little while, we were important to each other."

Llioramasith cannot argue with this despite his own lack of memory over it. He can see my memories clearly enough, and feel my emotions vividly enough. It still hurts you.

"Of course it does. You've been rejected before too." I dredge of a memory of his losing a flight, and of how disgracefully he reacted to this loss. His indignant snort is met with a quiet chuckle from me, before my amusement fades. "But yes…it does. All the more so knowing that unless he mistimed his jump by months…I'll never see him again."

Our balcony darkens a little, and the moons come out fully above us. I will never leave you.

This time I don't answer. He knows that I know.

I close my eyes, and show him a different image, one we rarely use. Llioramasith obliges, and the landscape around us shifts. We are in a forge now, we are the forge. Dimly I hear hammer blows and the hiss of water as hot metal hits it. For a moment, we stay there, content in the familiar-yet-different place, and then we become the molten metal. We are forged anew, heated in the fires so hot, and hammered deftly and precisely.

And in the molten metal as we are reforged, we allow ourselves tears one last time.

For what could have been but wasn't.

For those who chose to stay behind.

For those we left behind.

For the times ahead, Threadfilled and uncertain as they are.

For the things we know now that we wish we didn't.

But as with all things, our tears dry. When the hammer blows again come, we reforge ourselves with determination.

This time, we have Purposes in mind.