Why So Blue? (1/3)
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Corrin, Duskdog
Date Posted: 22nd September 2025
Characters: Sybana, Zaphare, Icasan
Description: The day after their Blooding, Sybana and Zaphare escape to the Printer Hall for a change of pace.
Location: Printer Hall
Date: month 8, day 25 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Saibra
Icasan was halfway through an early supper when the call came.
“Gold in the sky!” someone shouted from the far end of the hall.
Barking a knee against the table, he rushed to his feet, heart hammering as benches scraped and people (mostly young apprentices like himself) made for the doors. Gold. Icasan had seen a handful of dragons since being accepted into Printer Hall, but never one of those. His friends were already elbowing past a pair of journeymen who, conscious of the dignity of their rank, were much slower on their way to gawk. Icasan hurried around them and out into the courtyard.
He made it out just in time to see the gold land. It was like a storm breaking, her vast wings sending a blast of cold air about the square. The ground itself seemed to him to shudder under her weight. She was far larger than any dragon Icasan had seen before, her gleaming bulk dwarfing everything around her. And for all the songs that named dragons as the noblest of creatures, this hulking queen looked wild and terrible-- a beast out of legend, evoking awe and fear.
Icasan swallowed hard.
A blue and a brown dropped from the sky after her, but he hardly noticed them because by then the goldrider was dismounting.
She pulled off her helmet and shook loose a fall of dark curls and Icasan stared. If the dragon was not what he’d expected, the goldrider was everything he’d dreamed one would be: young, radiant. The kind of ballad-beauty that struck deep and sharp as a blade.
“Shells, Icasan. Close your mouth before a tunnel snake crawls in,” one of his friends teased, jabbing him in the ribs.
Before he could retort a terse voice rang out behind him. “You there, Icasan! Come take this file to Master Aleriand and quickly. I’ll not have the craftmaster waiting because you’re all out here gaping!”
Inwardly cursing his luck, Icasan took the file and set off for Aleriand’s office, though he risked one last look over his shoulder at the queen and her rider.
---
Goldrider Sybana smiled as Zaphare joined her in the courtyard. “Thanks for coming with me,” she said, voice warm with gratitude. “I know you must be tired too-- but I just had to get out.”
The words carried the weight of the day before. Their class’s first real Threadfall. Their Blooding. After it, Sybana had spent a long night, and long morning, in the dragon infirmary: Galgaith bracing wounded dragons in the iron grip of her mind while Sybana -- so well-suited to all things bright and beautiful -- held numbweed pots, cleaned ichor, fetched water, did whatever she could to keep from feeling… helpless. It wasn’t the first time she’d assisted in the infirmary, but it was the first time she’d seen her own classmates among the wounded. It was the first time the losses had faces she could name.
By the time Saibra dismissed her, Sybana couldn’t bear another instant in a world that stank of ichor, blood, and antiseptic. The Printer Hall, arguably the finest collection of tomes in the south, promised exactly what she needed now: distraction. A place to remember there was more to the world than ash.
Despite a luxurious soak the night before, and another this morning, Zaphare still couldn’t quite get the stench of smoke and firestone out of her nostrils. It wasn’t the first time she’d encountered them, of course -- not after months of training in every aspect of dragonriding -- but there was something different about a first Threadfall, about facing it like a real rider. Almost.
“I gotta say, I don’t mind getting out, either,” she said, rolling her shoulders. They still ached a little from the day before. “This isn’t where _I_ would have picked, but, you know… I don’t mind. I don’t think I’ve ever even been here before. Wait, I _know_ I haven’t. So who knows what I might find?”
The place suited Sybana, of course, and she found herself less envious of that than she might have been in the past. Seeing the other woman brighten up again after the weight of the day before was… nice.
She leaned into Sybana’s space, grinning. “Looks like the boys are impressed with your arrival. You should take advantage.”
Boys _and_ girls, and children and adults and maybe some pets -- but that wasn’t as fun to tease about.
The suggestion earned a laugh. It felt good to laugh. “Oh, should I?” Sybana rallied, a glint of mischief in her green eyes. She glanced carelessly around the courtyard, noting more than a few bold stares. “Well, I didn’t ride all the way here just to look like I’d crawled out of the infirmary. It took ages to get the redwort off and fix my hair. I’m glad my efforts are being appreciated.”
It had felt incredibly important to clean off any trace of the infirmary and beyond that-- doing her hair, painting her lips, dressing again in her finery. It helped. It made her feel more like herself. More normal. Less brittle and hollow and scared.
“Honestly though,” she continued, dropping her voice to a more intimate level. “It’s nice to be seen for… me. Not just for what Galgi can do. I felt so _useless_ back there, next to the dragonhealers. They just wanted her, really--” She shook her head sharply.
“Nevermind that,” Sybana said firmly, mustering a smile bright as glass. She took Zaphare by the arm. “No more talk about Thread, and no boys-- unless they’re _really_ gorgeous. The rest of today is for books and for us. Come on!”
Last updated on the October 12th 2025