Night's Memories

Candidates Barrack
A long, low ceilinged room opens off the entrance hall to the arena. One wall is slightly curved, set against the outer wall of the arena itself. Cots are set in two rows along the length of the room, each with its own small press at the foot for personal belongings. Wide windows are spaced along the outside wall, letting sunlight in, while other lights are available for the night time hours. It's always warm here when there are eggs on the sands, and candidates seldom need more than a light blanket.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, when the barracks are black as pitch, Rhodelia jolts to consciousness with a gasp, her lungs fighting to remember how to draw in air. The woman shakes, silently, as she slowly regains the ability to breath and try as she might, she can't quite remember what it was that gave her such a fright. One would think that would be pretty memorable, but she just finds a void when she tries to recall what figment her sleeping brain had concocted. Of course, that doesn't mean she didn't have her own theories…

Lately after all the egg touchings, the horrible amalgamation of family members and former instructors that she may have let down have been haunting her dreams after one of the eggs had revealed it. The paralysing fear she woke up to was pretty much exactly what she felt on the sands as well…

Or perhaps it was something simpler? Paperwork and angry holders? Impossible requests of the most mundane nature? All while having to dodge through an obstacle course of a certain two weyrleaders trying to kill each other?

There's always the old favorite from her life back in the vintner hall. She could still feel her limbs tremble as she stood in front of the class, her father interrogating her on just what crucial step she may have forgotten in that batch, completely unable to find any words to defend or explain herself.

And then there was the one she tried not to think about. They said the first time was the hardest, but she wasn't sure that was true. Sure, she had plenty of practice by now at making new friends, watching them walk of the Sands with dragons and being left with nothing but the shards of shells and a broken hope she had struggled against having in the first place. She could still feel the sting of disappointment, a sting oh so familiar. At least there would be the after party with a duel purpose: To celebrate those that found their lifemates and let those that didn't try and wash away the sorrow, at least for a night.

Rhodelia's hand raises to rub away the few tears that managed to sneak out, blinking to push them back even if nobody might be there to see in the darkness. She'll struggle, without a word, to push those feelings back down inside. The bottle might have been unstoppered for a moment, but she'll cork it back up. There are times to think about those things at that is not tonight… today? Enough looking back to the past, letting it hold her captive. Rhodelia can be brave, maybe, and fight forward. She'll just take it one day at a time and to get through the rest of this day (or night, time is hard to tell in the dark), she'll quietly pad over to Khavro's cot. Or Stefyr's. Wherever it is her traitorous teddy-bear of a pup has abandoned her and made a new nest. She scoops up the canine who gives no protest but a sleepy yawn and cuddle into her arms. Rhody holds the dog snugly as she makes her way back to her own cot. Time to continue convincing herself that things are going to be alright…

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