[Statistics] [Candidate] [Hatchling] [Weyrling] [Adult]

Wrapping her arms about herself tightly in the chill dusk air, Qianel gazed out across the Weyr somewhat sombrely. Dark hair streamed out across her face in a sudden gust of wind. She sacrificed warmth for a moment and lifted one long-fingered hand to hook the lock behind her ear. Her rich, klah-coloured skin was pimpled with goose-flesh and she briefly considered going inside.

But she couldn't leave. Not now. He would be here soon, she knew he would.

Qianel had last seen her father almost half a turn before, when he had left on one of his usual routes to trade with a Northern Hold. He had sent a firelizard back to his youngest daughter, who had stayed behind to begin an apprenticeship in Harpering, telling of a delay of some sort. He hadn't specified what.

For the hundredth time since that time - it seemed so far past - Qianel wondered what had gone wrong. After that first brief communication, Rinnel had virtually disappeared from the face of Pern.

And his daughter, left an orphan at the Harper Hall, had continued her life, mourning for the loss of her family. That was six months ago. And now? Now it seemed she would lose him again. The simple note had been so much - oh, to see his sprawling handwriting again!

She put a hand in her pocket, fingering the hide as if it were a precious piece of lore.

Qian, I'm sorry. I returned to find you gone - Searched. I hope you still want to see me. I will be arriving at the Weyr on the day after Belior is full, before the sun sets. Da.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Qianel forced herself not to cry. The day was over. The sun set. Belior, still swollen, sat perched on the horizon, taunting her.

He wasn't coming. Just like last time.

And, just like last time, she was left alone... But not without purpose. Then, she had thrown herself into Harpering and had proven an apt student. Now, now she had the dragons.

A candidate's days are never quiet. Always filled with some chore or another, always looking forward to the day when the Hatching would change a life forever. Never backwards. They weren't permitted to look backwards. Probably for the best.

With a sigh, Qianel turned from the view of the now darkened sky and headed back inside the Candidate's Barracks. She had skipped chores that day to watch for the arrival of her father, and that was generally taken rather seriously.

She hated chores. Of course she understood why candidates were assigned the duties they were - dragonriders had much more important things to do. Like save Pern from Thread.

And one day, if Faranth smiled upon her, she would join their ranks on a mighty dragon, and would watch from that vantage point as the next round of candidates took up their place and went about their duties.

She laughed softly, breathing easier at the thought. The past really was of no moment. After all, look what it had gained her.