Who

I'dre

What

Sometimes all it takes is a nightmare to set someone straight… and that's sort of the case for I'dre, who finally admits he has a problem.

Angst
Character Death (in nightmare only)

When

Where

I'dre's weyr, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 18 Nov 2018 05:00

 

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I'dre's weyr

Sparse and utilitarian, there is little to this weyr. What furniture is present is as basic as it comes and only there by necessity. With how clean the space is as well, it's a wonder… does the rider who lives here even spend time in it?


Night falls on another gruelling day of training, drills and practice with Between. Too exhausted to even bother unwinding, I'dre had returned to the weyr he and Mhiruth share. He'd fallen asleep moments after collapsing on the narrow bed, the last of his thoughts turning to his continued struggles and that he still hadn't come to Vosji with his answer regarding them.

He'll blame those last inner thoughts later for triggering the nightmare.

It began with a bad Threadfall, erratic and heavy, and somewhere over the vast range of Igen's deserts. I'dre was leading the Weyrling's Wing and that alone should have been the first hint that something was vastly wrong with the scenario. Instead the dream played on in vivid detail, even as it all went to hell, as part of him knew it would. Conditions began to work increasingly against him and his hold on command was crumbling along with his grip of his temper.

As the Weyrling Wing begins to fall apart under I'dre's leadership, not even those appointed as his Wingseconds can help and as their countering orders overlap, chaos soon follows. Others step in to stave off disaster, with the full Wings above too engrossed in their duties to be of aid to the floundering weyrlings. Among those coming in are none other than the Weyrlingmaster herself and I'dre can already feel shame and defeat coiling heavily in the pit of his stomach.

Then the dreamscape shifts and the nightmare plunges to darker depths. He never sees how it happens of course. One moment they're changing formation, exchange of commands happening so swiftly to be just a hum of conversation on the back of his mind — then it happens. A large clump of Thread breaks free, only to strike Vosji and Iskanzivoth both, the older blue crumpling under the weight of his injuries.

The strike is fatal and I'dre can only watch in slow moving horror as the pair crash-land on the ground below, sand and grit billowing up in their wake. He can hear another dragon's wail of distress before others echoe it. Ivaenth, maybe? It could be Mhiruth too, but he's become so locked up in shock that he cannot make it out. When he finally shakes free enough, it's only to do one thing.

Abandoning his position and his Wing entirely, he has Mhiruth dive down towards the ground. Barely has the blue landed that he's already unbuckling himself, teeth gritted against the clamor of voices in his head. Questions and demands go unanswered as he does the unthinkable, dismounting while Threadfall continues above and ahead. He knows he has to move fast, before someone has the sense to make them come back, in a way that Mhiruth cannot ignore.

Even in the grips of the nightmare, he knows he's too late. Yet he races to the fallen form of Iskanzivoth. His mind has at least spared him the true reality of what would have been left… or not, in this case. There's no mistaking that both the blue and his rider have perished and I'dre's overcome with regret and a surge of grief in a tangled web of emotions.

It was all his fault and he tries to apologize but cannot find his voice. The ache in his head builds, as the voices become unbearable. Some are accusatory, others are defensive and others querying and questioning. They become so numerous that he can no longer catch more than a snippet of words here and there, as he becomes consumed by emotion.

It's his fault.

I'dre.

If he'd just kept his temper in check.

I'dre.

Why couldn't he be what the expected of him? They paid with their lives for his faults. It's not fair! He should be the one in their place…

«I'DRE!»

He'd begun to sink to his knees in the nightmare, but suddenly it vanishes in the same instant that a thunderous clap of lightning blinds him and drowns out his other senses. Something grips hard at his heart, as if to haul him forwards and up and darkness flashes — then the crushing weight of water as he's hauled to the surface. A glimpse of storm clouds, the taste of sea and salt…

… and he jolts awake in his weyr, a strangled cry catching in his throat as he sucks in a shallow breath of air. Adrenaline has him all but vaulting from the bed but his legs become entangled in the sheets and he ends up tumbling to the hard stone floor. His breathing is almost as erratic as his elevated heartbeat and for a moment he is further panicked by the oppressive darkness of his inner room. It's not until he glimpses a sliver of yellow-orange in the distance that he musters the strength to get to his feet.

Stumbling in the dark, he reaches Mhiruth's wallow and where the blue had been curled up sleeping, while his shattered thoughts pick up a step or so behind. He's all but crushed under the blue, as his head comes around to press him firmly against his chest. I'dre doesn't protest, clinging like a man drowning to the blue's hide as he attempts to catch his breath and come down from the panicked state he found himself in.

« You have to stop this, I'dre. None of this will help either of us… » Mhiruth's voice washed over him, soothing and calming as he sought to absorb the outpouring of negative energy from him.

"I'm fine." I'dre can feel the words rasping from his throat before he realizes he even spoke out loud. He swallows thickly, inhaling deep before stubbornly repeating himself. "I — I'll be fine…"

« You cannot and will not lie to me like you do to yourself, I'dre. » Again, Mhiruth interjects himself and more firmly this time. His voice has barely raised above the usual gentle murmuring but there's an edge to it; something pained and hopeful both. « Please, reconsider? There is no shame in being unwell, but this is even beyond my help now. We want to help you! »

The distress, even if subtle, from Mhiruth is the largest push to I'dre's decision. He caught that use of 'we' too and fleetingly wonders if the blue hasn't tattled to the real (and very much alive) Iskanzivoth. While normally he'd be furious at such a breech, he only accepts it this time as a fair trade off — at least half of Igen isn't aware of his weakness right now. One more steadying breath and he can feel himself reaching a decision, a resolution amidst the fading chaos of his thoughts.

"It's not that easy to fix… and it might not change anything." I'dre admits, not caring that he's voicing his thoughts out loud. Who can hear him?

« At least we can say we tried. »

That brings a scoff of bitter laughter from him, but I'dre can't help but agree. Shifting, he turns to rest more against Mhiruth's side. There will be no returning to his bed tonight but neither he or the blue care. He focuses on calming down and centring himself, helpfully anchored to reality by Mhiruth's constant presence. Eventually, sleep will come to claim them both again, but mercifully it will be a dreamless sleep.

When dawn's light filters into the wallow, I'dre will remain steadfast in his promise.

That day will be the day he finally confronts those personal demons.

Finally, he will seek what he needs to gain control of his flaws and weaknesses.

He's never been more afraid…

… but he is not alone.

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