Who

N'tael

What

N'tael finally has some moments of quiet to write home to his father.

When

16th day of the 6th month of the 2nd turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Tlazotezath's Throne

OOC Date

 

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Tlazotezath's Throne

Dear Journey Fa Dor

N'tael glances over at the large bronze bulk at his side, curled about in a post-eating meditation. Not quite asleep was the bronze, as his mind flits about with the dreams that bring him the most pleasure. For a moment N'tael listens to those dreams, the half formed poetry that praises the bronze's prowess bringing a half grin to N'tael's lips as he shakes his head at how ridiculous it sounds. He's careful to keep that thought guarded though, less his laughter bring Tlazotezath awake and put an end to his most recent attempt to write a letter to his father.

Attention turns back to the sheet in front of him, the latest of many he has attempted to write since Tlazotezath had decided to claim him on the sands. Finally, he scratches out the whole beginning, starting anew again. He has to write slowly, making sure that each letter comes out clearly and not in the careless scrawl that is usually good enough for his purposes.

Pa,

Seems like it's been a long long time since I last saw you. Though I guess it has only been four-five months since the hatching. Sometimes it's hard to figure out what day of the week it is, let alone what month.

Everything is okay! Tlazotezath is growing, FAST. He use to be smaller than I am, but now I have to do a fair bit of climbing to get onto his back. Everyone keeps saying I'm going to grow but I'm starting to think that you're right, and that I'm going to end up being Ma's height, and not yours. Maybe I'll be able to have your beard one day, to make up for it.

I'm sorry I haven't written at all. Things have been really busy. Every day there is something new to learn. This last month, Tlazotezath even got to start flying. It was a relief to not have to listen to him grumble about being stuck crawling around on the earth. I was really happy for him after that first night. I woke up that night to catch him writing poetry about what an awesome figure he made in the sky, though he denies doing any such thing. It wasn't even all that bad, though I don't think I'll share it with anyone else. He has a rather large opinion of his own self-worth. I've given up trying to convince him that he isn't better than anyone else.

The pen pauses on the partchment as N'tael glances sideways at the dragon again. This time his expression is a bit of a wry grin as he wonders what to tell his father about the bronze that has made himself the center of his life. Nothing about how sometimes he would turn and knock him on his butt. That sounded too much like complaining. After a moment of thought, N'tael's pen continues to scratch.

You know, pa, I think about you an awful lot. Like, when Tlazotezath is in a temper and doesn't want to have anything to do with anyone else, I have to remember what you said about staying positive. It's a bit hard to do. I mean, I wouldn't trade him, or change what he is like really. I just wish he didn't think he was better than everyone else, because he really isn't. In fact, I think he's just a little bit slower, like I was in the harper classes. He always waits to watch another one of the pairs, or the weyrlingmaster leading the lesson do something before he'll attempt it himself. The one time he didn't get a chance; he spent half an hour chasing a herdbeast around the pens. Even then, he only got it in the end when weyrlingmaster T'ral (you remember him right? Rides Blue Ensath?) gave him some sneaky advice.

A brief shudder runs through N'tael as he remembers the look on the herdbeast's face from yesterday. He'd been alive when Tlazotezath had split him open and munched on the intestines. It just didn't seem right for something to be alive one second and dead the next, even if that was what they were there for. T'ral was right. He shouldn't get so upset about something that was going to die anyway. But what if Tlazotezath went after something like… Spot. A creature that N'tael actually really cared for? Or one of the baby caprines that were to be birthed in the fall? The quill taps on the side of the paper and drops of ink scatter. “Oops…” Using his own shirt as a sponge N'tael quickly dots at the ink, leaving long black splotches that he has to write around for the rest of the letter. No, there wasn't a reason to mention any of those worries. Tlazotezath had a right to eat however he pleased. Even if how he liked to eat usually ended up with needing a bath to wash all the blood away. Instead, a different worry is expressed, one that his father might actually have some understanding of.

Also, he seems to really hate the sea. Every time I try to bring him down he and I argue. Lately, I've stopped even asking him to come with me down to the water's edge. At first, I thought maybe he was afraid of it like some of the others. But he has gotten so big now and he's so sure of himself, that I don't think he's afraid, it is something else that bothers him about the water. Whenever I ask him about it though, he just gets offended and I get a headache from the argument. I hope I can figure it out though. It just doesn't seem right for him to hate something that I love so much. Maybe when he is older? I don't know.

Well, hopefully I'll get to see you soon! Now that Tlazotezath is grown so much and they are flying on their own we'll get to fly on their backs! Wingleader Yules asked me today if I was excited or scared. I don't think I will be, for flying with Tlazotezath at least. For all Tlazotezath's bluster, he is really careful and I don't think he's going to have any problems flying with me on his back.

I'm a little nervous about between though, even though it'll make seeing you a whole lot easier. You remember that night, when we lost Ma and the twins? I remember how cold it was clinging onto the spar with your arms around me as the storm raged around us. Between feels a bit like that, except it is colder and I can't feel anything. What if Tlazotezath and I get lost between? What if we never come out of the cold? No one knows what happens to dragons and riders that get lost between. They're just gone. I'm not really good at focusing on one idea to the exclusion of everything else, though I'm really trying to work on it. Seems like there is always something else more interesting, though I guess in between there won't be anything else to think about at all other then getting through it!

Tlazotezath thinks it is silly for me to be worried. I got him to talk about it, a bit, one night when I couldn't sleep. We went for a walk and he told me that it was our destiny to go into the “bitter cold” and come out victorious on the other side. But then again, Tlazotezath thinks our destiny is a lot of things. I guess he is probably right. The weyrlingmasters wouldn't let anything happen to us.

Anyway, we're going to learn! And when I do, I'm going to go visit you. Maybe we can go out on the boat for a while together, while Tlazotezath goes and hunts something wild for a while. He'll be more than old enough to take care of himself, though he'll probably make a mess and I'll have to wash him off before we come home. I miss going out on the ocean with you, or really, working on the boat altogether.

More careful this time, N'tael pauses, laying down the quill to shake his hand vigorously. This was a lot more writing than he usually did. Guiltily, he reminds himself that really he should have been writing weekly. Then there wouldn't be so much to say now. The thought of the sea reminds him of another little fact, and he picks up the pen to continue.

Do you remember that our new weyrleader is that old friend of yours that became a rider, Cha'el? He told me that he has a boat of his own that he takes out. Makes me wonder if maybe I might be able to get one of my own, so I'm not always bothering the craft down here when I get the urge to be on the sea. I'm not sure how I'll make it happen, but maybe we could talk about it when I come visit!

When I come up, I bet that I could raise the mainsail of your ship by myself. We spend a lot of time throwing firestone sacks around to one another to prepare for fighting Thread eventually. I thought that drawing up the nets was hard work, but it is nothing compared to these sacks! Every day we pack just a little bit more in. At this rate, my arms are going to be bigger then my legs! Maybe one day I could even have arms like Weyrlingmaster K'ane. He's HUGE.

Bronze bulk begins to uncoil slowly, and the storm that is Tlazotezath's mind begins to pick up at the edge of N'tael's awareness. His pen picks up quickly, not wanting to leave yet another letter unwritten- especially since that rider had already agreed to take it. The quality of his handwriting decreases, the end being a barely legible scrawl.

Well, Tlazotezath is starting to shift, so I should probably end this so that he doesn't get any funny ideas. There is a rider heading up with some trade supplies to Nerat soon, and he said he would take this letter with him.

I miss you Pa,

Love,

Nath N'tael

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