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Ruunan [HR] - 16 - he/him/his - App Woodcrafter
The hours had dragged by, from Ruunan’s perspective. No amount of daydreaming could erase the pain of the hatching, or in seeing Gr’del leave, defeated… It had truly been awful. He had spent the morning distancing himself from what had happened, reimagining scenarios in which the young man was spared- every egg matched and bonded… and Ruunan proud, a proud dragonrider, who did his father and sister proud.
The candidate barracks had an empty, hollow feeling to them. He picked up the robe he’d worn- torn, from trying to help others… and put it back on his bed, beside him. It was time for him to face reality, and realise that he did not have what it took to be a rider. He was not brave when the bronze had attacked and killed. He had so desperately wanted to run away when those greens were attacking, and only sheer fear had kept him rooted to the ground.
He was not, in any size, shape or form, dragonrider material.
At least, with Nyaranau having Impressed, he no longer had a strong tie to being a candidate. She had her own set of dragon-related problems to deal with… Nyara, a goldrider. By Faranth, the world was a strange and funny place at times. He stared at his fingers, lost in thoughts and distant memories, of a time when they were both children and she would never let him leave her side.
With a slight sniff of a boy not quite allowing himself sadness, but also uncertain of what else to feel, he picked up the rest of his personal belongings and left the barracks.
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The personal quarters given to the dedicated crafters were a little more cramped, but Ruunan was glad that he had space for his woodcarving tools. Hevvik would take him back, that he did not doubt… and U’zan… well, he didn’t have to meet the man’s eye. He couldn’t simply hope his father focused on Nyara instead- maybe as some surrogate daughter. Nyara would take his place in his world, because her dragon’s hide was shiny and…
“So, it’s true, then?” A voice called out- achingly familiar.
Ruunan looked up from his cot, tilting his head slightly. Nyaranau was leaning in the doorframe, her arms folded across her body, eyebrows raised.
“You gave up candidacy?” There was an unusually cold quality to her voice that put a touch of fear in his heart.
“I’m not like you, Nyara… I’m not brave. I couldn’t face those dragons this morning.”
“But you did.” Nyara answered, slipping into the room to sit beside him. “And you didn’t even run.”
There was a pause. A great, big, awkward pause, in which Ruunan wrestled with some primal part of himself. Blood boiled in his ears, practically deafening him with the thump of his heart. “I wanted to. I wanted to, Nya. I’m not cut out to be a dragonrider. I don’t think about flying- all I think about is danger, and dying. Dragons will bring you death.” His voice grew heated, and he pressed his hands against his face. Still, no tears would come. He wasn’t upset- didn’t even care that he hadn’t Impressed… he was only grateful to still be alive. A man had died.
“And what of Pern, if we had no dragons? We would all be dead. No mistake about that.” Her voice knocked on the door of his mind and entered without permission. It slipped in, leaving cold traces in its wake, stifling thoughts that had finally found life and voice.
“No… Someone else… but not me. Someone else can fight Thread… Me? I can make chairs. I’ll make you something nice. When you graduate.”
Nyara said nothing, which was a first. Ruunan lowered his hands and glanced at her, and was surprised to find that she looked troubled. Her trademark grin was gone. The spark in her eyes dulled, and she looked… well, tired. As tired as he realised he felt, no doubt.
“It’s going to be okay. You know that, right?”
“It will be for me. I found what I didn’t realise I’d been missing my whole life… For you… I dunno. I’m not sure if you’re ready to Stand as a candidate. I thought you were, but I guess, in the end, only you can know… but I can tell you this- choosing to Stand, and fighting Thread… it’s the noblest way to give your life to those you love. I knew it’s what I wanted to do.” She paused here, meeting his gaze. “What do you want to do?” The young woman got up, and rested a hand on his shoulder in a comforting pat.
“I’m not brave.” Ruunan said, to her back, for she had turned and moved towards the door once more.
“It’s not about being brave all the time. It’s about facing your fear, and knowing no matter what you can’t give up. Give yourself a reason to fight, and you’ll find it easy to stay true to your convictions.” She smiled at him as she glanced over her shoulder, then disappeared back into the corridor.
Ruunan glanced around his room. His heart felt heavy in his chest, but it seemed, for now, like the right decision to make. He had a lot of thinking to do...