Consequence of a Kiss (5)
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: Kane
Date Posted: 16th February 2026
Characters: P'yanka, Mawani
Description: Peyanka attempts to retrieve his Search token
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 13, day 17 of Turn 12
Notes: Follows directly after Consequence of a Kiss (4)
The memory hit like a flare in the dark: Barrier Lake’s riders, the knots on a stranger’s shoulders, the calm weight of a token pressed into his hand.
If you change your mind, boy. If you ever need it.
Peyanka’s throat tightened.
Eggs on the Sands.
He had heard the whispers in the seahold, a golden queen at Barrier Lake with a clutch poised to hatch, the Weyr humming with anticipation. Even his father had spoken of it with the stiff politeness he reserved for dragonriders, the grudging respect that never quite became warmth.
Eggs meant a Hatching.
Surely he would have heard by now if the eggs had Hatched already. These occasions were no small event.
A chance then.
And hope.
Peyanka pushed himself to his feet. His legs trembled, but they held. He turned and began to stalk back toward the cottage with a determination that felt like desperation dressed up as courage.
Morning came thin and pale, the sky washed clean of stars. Sunstone’s world woke early to the slap of waves against distant pylons, the creak of rigging as sailors began their day. Peyanka kept his distance, shoulders hunched as if he could make himself smaller.
He watched.
He waited.
He saw his father leave at last. Yorok’s broad shape moved with clipped purpose down the path, healer satchel in hand, his stride steady as if nothing in his life had changed at all. As if he had not torn his son apart the night before and left him outside like rubbish.
Peyanka stood frozen until Yorok was gone from sight.
Only then did he move.
The door was locked.
Of course it was.
Peyanka stood there for a long moment, staring at the wood. His hand lifted once, hovered near the latch. Maybe he could try a window. He knew which one stuck, which one could be forced if you had enough patience.
But patience was not what he had.
He knocked.
The sound was soft, almost timid, swallowed by the morning wind. He knocked again, harder.
Footsteps inside. Voices. A pause.
The door cracked open.
His mother’s face appeared in the gap, pale and drawn, her eyes already red. She looked at him as if he wasn’t real.
“Peyanka…” Mawani’s voice was a whisper.
“I need my things,” he said, and the words came out rough. “Please.”
Her gaze darted behind her, toward the interior of the house, toward the corridor that led to the room Yorok had claimed as his office. Her whole body seemed braced, as if expecting him to appear any moment.
“You can’t be here,” she hissed, panic tightening her voice. “He’ll know.”
“I won’t stay,” Peyanka promised. “I just… I need something from my chest. My-”
The door began to close.
“Mama!” His voice broke. “_Please_.”
For a heartbeat, she wavered. The door shut. Locked. Floorboards creaked and a few moments later she was back, cracking the door open. She thrust a small rucksack into the gap, almost as if she couldn’t bear to touch him directly. The bag was light. Too light. It hit his hands with the finality of a goodbye.
“A spare shirt,” she whispered. “A few pieces of jerky. Dried apple. Water.” Her eyes shone. “And a half mark. That’s all I can do.”
Peyanka stared at her. “Please,” he tried again, softer. “I need-”
“I’m sorry,” Mawani said, and the words trembled. “I’m sorry.”
The door closed.
The lock clicked loud and sharp, a sound that felt like the second severing.
Peyanka stood there for a long moment, staring at the wood as if it might open again on its own.
It did not.
He lowered his gaze to the rucksack and opened it with stiff fingers. The contents were exactly as she’d said: a canteen of water, a few pieces of jerky wrapped in cloth, dried apple slices, the half mark right at the bottom, and a shirt, one of his old ones, pale and faded grey.
Not healer green.
He swallowed hard, forcing the sting in his eyes back down.
His life, reduced to a handful of food and a shirt that no longer matched the person he had been. And a coin. But not the right kind of coin.
His gaze lifted.
Glint was sunning himself in a sliver of morning light on the railing, wings half spread, eyes whirling with restless worry. He watched Peyanka with the intense focus of a creature who lived for nothing but his human’s moods.
Peyanka’s mind moved, slow at first, then faster as an idea formed.
It was risky.
It was foolish.
It was the only way.
Last updated on the February 28th 2026