Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Hidden Meadows

Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold

Barrier Lake Weyrhold
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold

Elsewhere on Pern
NPC Weyr (NPC)
River Bluff Weyr
Seacraft Hall

Story Listing
Series Listing

Weyrling Training

Writers: AL
Date Posted: 13th November 2024

Characters: Kaya
Description: Kaya finds out Wirnan is alive.
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 1, day 1 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Wirnan
TVh = Turquoise Valley hold, Kaya's father's hold.

Kaya’s legs buckled beneath her as she read the words scrawled upon the parchment. Her eyes widened, skimming the line over and over, even as tears welled up, blurring her vision until the letters dissolved into smudges. She kept staring, though, unable to tear her gaze away.


Wirnan was alive.


Wirnan was alive.


Wirnan was alive.


A tremour seized her, and she pressed a hand against her mouth, trying to muffle the sobs that threatened to pour out, desperate not to draw her father’s attention. She clamped down, but her chest heaved, the sound of her weeping slipping free. Unable to contain it, she threw herself onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow, surrendering to the flood of emotion that escaped despite her best efforts to hold it back.


Minutes slipped by, stretched and twisted by the weight of the news, the mixture of relief and grief pouring from deep within her soul, until at last the torrent of sobs subsided into soft hiccups. Though the tears still clung to her lashes, her breath had steadied. She reached for the letter once more, reading it thrice again. He was alive. Safe. And at Sunstone Seahold.


But why hadn’t he come for her? From the letter, it seemed he’d been at Sunstone for some time, hiding behind a pseudonym, only recently revealed. Greya herself had only just discovered it was him. The Steward of Sunstoneâ€"Wirnan.


How? Why? She had been so sure he was dead. These past two turns, she had mourned him. She had accepted her father’s suffocating control, his anger battering against her numb spirit, reduced to a husk. They had loved each other once, she and Wirnan. In time, they’d admitted as much. She had chosen to love him, only to lose him to a madman’s hand.


She had thought they’d been happy together, that they’d survived everything life had thrown their way. But his death had brought ruinâ€"not only to him but to her, leaving her in shambles. And yet, here he was, alive, reawakening that ache she’d thought buried. After all this time, she felt something again. She felt everything.


But why Sunstone? Why hadn’t he come to her? The questions twisted inside her, rekindling the hurt. Her vision blurred, tears spilling anew as she wiped them away. They had pledged themselves to each other, said what was in their hearts. So why would he turn away? There had been rumors, of courseâ€"bitter whispers that cast doubt, but she had held on to her faith in him.


Her gaze dropped back to the letter, and focused on his nameâ€"Wirnan. Two turns. Had he forgotten her? Did she no longer linger in his heart? She closed her eyes, allowing the fresh tears to carve deeper tracks along her cheeks. Her hand drifted to the locket that hung around her neck, its chain dull with age, though she had never removed it. She’d kept it as a vow, a promiseâ€"one that now felt as fragile as smoke.


Rising slowly, she moved to her trunk, fingers trembling as she lifted a stack of clothes to reveal what she had hidden beneath: scraps of her heart, smuggled drawings kept safe from prying eyes. She reached for sketches she’d made, fragments of memories she had drawn, some for him, most for herself.


She sighed, a shiver of resignation passing through her, and lifted the drawings, one by one. There were sketches of childrenâ€"their imagined childrenâ€"with wide eyes that bore both their features. In one, a girl of five looked back at her, an image of the child they had lost. Another sketch was of Wirnan himself, smiling, his hair falling over his brow. Setting these aside, she reached for a clean sheet and a piece of charcoal.


Her memory flashed with her own reflection, glimpsed in water days before. She had no mirror, but the image burned behind her eyes, etched by her grief. She began to draw, lines of charcoal capturing her own likeness: hollow cheeks, shadows beneath her eyes, her features gaunt, worn thin by turns of sorrow. Around her neck, the chain remained, the locket pressed close to her heart. She rendered it all, tracing the face that gazed back at herâ€"a ghostly twin, haunted and unrecognizable.


She worked in silence, pouring her pain and longing into every stroke, shading each shadow, drawing herself as she truly was. Any Harper would have praised her skill, but Kaya’s thoughts were far from prideful. Every line, every detail spoke of her raw ache, the questions left unasked, the emptiness left unresolved. Her lips, once quick to smile, lay still and joyless. Her eyes stared up from the page, searching, yearning, begging for some hint of what had been lost.


When she finished, she gathered the drawings and wrapped them with a quiet determination. She knew who could get these to him. With trembling hands, she pressed the parcel to her chest, her heart pounding with a fragile, desperate hope that left her breathless. She didn’t dare complete her thought, afraid of the answers her mind might conjure. Instead, she clung to the only glimmer of warmth that letter had offered herâ€"Wirnan was aliveâ€"and sent her heart to follow.

Last updated on the November 18th 2024