Foundling

(This was my first attempt at changing an old character into a new one.  But I don't think I'm satisfied, yet.)

 ***

 

The warrior clerics of my Temple usually take children for training at age four, but it is not uncommon for foundlings to be left on their steps.  What is uncommon, however, is for that foundling to be a Tiefling.

I can guess why my parents abandoned me- my scarlet skin and tail gave me a demonic appearance long before spiraling black horns broke the flesh of my brow- but it is harder to discern why they left me to the Temple.  My master says they were compelled to by the gods themselves, to ensure that I would have the training I would need to act as sword and shield.  But perhaps they thought holy men and women would know best how to handle a descendant of evil.

The clerics named me in the tradition of their faith; a threefold name to encompass the virtues of my past, present, and future.  Thus was I christened “Innocence Hope Perseverance”, and began a life dedicated to protecting the weak.  My fellow acolytes shortened my name to “Severan”, and I have gone by that ever since.

My master took special care with my education- he warned me of what I would face in the world as a Tiefling, and I encountered it for myself, the first of many times, when I was only five.  The man who gave me this scar did not survive the retribution of my master, who used it as a teaching moment in protecting the helpless from the brutal.

I know that my kind are drawn to the darkness of our ancestry, and the constant suspicion of others weighs heavily on a soul, until one is tempted to become what one is believed to be: it is why I consciously strive to stay on the path of righteousness at all times, no matter the abuse I may endure.

Vera, Delilah, and the Rainbow Bridge

(for my son, so that when the day comes, he will maybe understand just a little)

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Vera.  Vera had a best friend named Delilah, and the two of them loved to go on adventures together- almost as much as they loved one another, which is to say, quit a bit indeed.

One day Vera said to Delilah, "What sort of adventure are we going to have today, Delilah?" and Delilah said, "I do not feel like adventuring today, Vera."

"What do you feel today, Delilah?" asked Vera.

"I feel very tired, Vera.  And of course I feel love that I love you."

"That's okay, Delilah," said Vera.  "We can just sit quietly together, because I feel that I love you, too, and that's enough adventure for me."

The next day, Vera said to Delilah, "What sort of adventure are we going to have today, Delilah?" and Delilah said, "I'm afraid I am still very tired, Vera.  I think I am sick."

Vera threw her arms around Delilah and said, "That's okay, Delilah.  We will sit quietly together for as long as it takes for you to get better."

And that's what they did for a long time, but Delilah never seemed to feel any better.  Then the day came when Delilah said, "Vera, I think I am ready for another adventure, but I need your help."

"Oh Delilah!" said Vera.  "You know I will help you any way I can.  That's what best friends are for!  What sort of adventure are we going to have?"

"We must find the Rainbow Bridge," said Delilah, "and I must cross over it."

"What's on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge?" asked Vera, for she thought it sounded like a magical adventure, indeed.

"New adventures," said Delilah, "and old friends, and many other wonderful things.  And most importantly, once I cross the Rainbow Bridge, I won't be sick anymore."

"Well that sounds like the perfect adventure for today, Delilah.  Here, lean on me and we'll get started."

Delilah did lean on Vera, and although Delilah was very heavy, Vera never once complained- although she did have to take breaks to rest.  This is because although she loved Delilah very, very much, she was only a little girl, and no one- not even the strongest grownup- can be leaned on all the time.  But eventually the two of them found their way to the foot of the Rainbow Bridge.

"Oh my!" said Vera.  "It's even more beautiful than I imagined- but it's so very long that I can't see the other side!  How long will it take us to cross it, Delilah?"

"You cannot cross it, Vera," said Delilah, "Because it's not your time yet.  But I will cross it very swiftly indeed, once I am on it."

"What?" said Vera.  "What do you mean it's not my time?  How will you cross if you do not have me to lean on?  How will you get back?"

"That is the magic of the Rainbow Bridge," said Delilah.  "Once it is your time, the Bridge itself will give you the strength you need to cross over.  But Vera, you must understand- once I have crossed the Rainbow Bridge, I cannot cross back.  I will be on the other side forever."

"Oh no!" said Vera, "I don't want you to go, Delilah!  What good are adventures without you?" and she began to cry.

"Don't cry, Vera.  I love you so much that I will stay if you really want me to," said Delilah, but her voice was sad, and Vera could see how tired she still was.  And Vera remembered what Delilah had told her, about how she would not be sick once she crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and Vera knew she could not ask her friend to stay.

"You said there are old friends on the other side?" Vera asked, wiping her eyes.

"Oh yes," said Delilah.  "Friends I have not seen in many years.  I have missed them since they crossed the Rainbow Bridge, just as you will miss me."

"But they're waiting for you?" asked Vera.

"Oh yes," said Delilah, "Just as I will wait for you."

"And you'll have new adventures together?"

"Oh yes," said Delilah.  "And I will tell them stories about the adventures I had with you, and they will like that."

"And, and will you tell me stories about the adventures you have with them, once it is my time?" asked Vera.

"Oh yes," said Delilah.  "But you must have new adventures so that you can tell me stories, too."

"I will!" said Vera.  "I will have as many wonderful adventures as I can, so that I can tell you many, many wonderful stories once it's my time!"

"I will like that," said Delilah, and gave her friend a kiss.  "I love you very much, Vera."

"I love you very much, Delilah," said Vera, and threw her arms around her best friend one last time.  Then she kissed Delilah on her brow, and stood back to watch as Delilah stepped onto the Rainbow Bridge.

Vera kept right on watching as Delilah stood up straighter than she had for a very long time, and began to walk with a lighter step.  And soon Delilah was running joyfully, faster and faster towards the unseen end, and Vera suddenly realized how much her friend must have been hurting, and she knew she had been right to let her go.

Soon Delilah was out of sight, and Vera had herself a good cry, because even tho' she knew Delilah crossing the Rainbow Bridge had been the right thing, it still hurt to say goodbye to her friend.  And once she was done crying, she splashed some cold water on her face, and turned for home, because she knew her mother and father would be worried if she stayed gone too long.  And she also knew she must get a good night's rest, for tomorrow would bring a new adventure, and she must be ready for it.

Buddies

Soggy Bottom Boy

We went to a very special Going Away party today, which featured a kiddie pool for the half-dozen (plus!) kiddies rolling around.  I was so excited for Neeps's first experience with that- he's recently discovered the joy of splashing, and bath time is super awesome fun for both of us.  Needless to say, I was certain he'd be delighted by the novelty of being outside in the water via the kiddie pool.

Oh it is to laugh.

I plopped him down in his little cotton diaper in the pool, and he immediately let out an indignant squawk, followed by a bit of grousing.  I was stunned- this is my little aquatic dragon: he loves the water!  What was the problem?  I scooped a little up in one of the tiny cups and poured it on him, and he continued his protesting.  So I splashed his little hands in it, and suddenly realized-

Holy crap, this water is cold.  And he has literally never been in cold water before.  Not even luke-warm.  No wonder he's objecting!

He did eventually adapt, however, and was happily engaged swishing things back and forth until I removed him due to incipient pruney-ness.  Then we just hung out on a towel while I drank cider and chatted with grownups, and he ate grass and played with cups, which made me realize... we need some bath cups.

Boy stole my hat.

Character Building Experience

A buddy of mine had a little D&D "character creation" party tonight, so Neeps got to spend some quality time with Daddy while I remembered what it's like to be out of the house past 8pm.

I went in not really knowing what I was going to do, which is a bit unusual for me.  But the truth of the matter is that I hadn't had much spare time/mental energy to devote to it, so I figured I'd just stat out one the characters from a past story.  After all, it's always a fun mind puzzle to make your ideas fit within someone else's rules.  I had a vague notion that I might like to create a paladin, based on a conversation I'd had earlier in the week with my mother, and it just so happens that one of my old stories is about a bunch of (essentially) paladins.  Perfect.

In the end I think I did a fairly decent job of it- the only problem was that she pretty much 100% was not going to work with the more rogue-like characters the others created.  Not that I don't have faith in my DM to come up with a scenario in which she feasibly be hanging out with them, but... not without it running too incredibly counter to her personal story.  Which, obviously, is the problem with coming to the table with an out-of-world character.

So.

The more I thought about it on the drive home, the more I realized that I was just going to have to redo the whole thing.  Same basic premise, but without any of the backstory baggage- and with a few tweaks to make it more likely for my lawful good paladin to hook up with a bunch of mischevious hooligans (interesting side note: I've never actually plated lawful good before- it should be interesting, if no one kills my character for being too pedantic first).

I may very well type up her backstory for a future blog entry... after I've gotten her new stats worked out, of course.

Dragonlove 08

C’Len did, indeed, have a few thoughts on who might be best for his twin.

“Well it rather depends on what you’re looking for,” he said, “but off the top of my head, I’d say you wouldn’t regret a dalliance with D’ski, Z’Rey, or T’zel- they’re fellow brown-riders.  Oh, and W’tarran, who rides bronze Korvath, is very funny and quite laid back: you might enjoy spending time with him.

“Hmm,” said C’Fra.  “It’s a starting point, I suppose.  None of them have issues with a female riding a fighting dragon?”

C’Len looked insulted.  “I should hope you don’t honestly believe I would recommend you take time with anyone who did!”  He heaved a sigh.  “Look, C’Fra, I won’t lie- of course there are those in the wings who have ridiculously old-fashioned notions about women on anything other than a gold-”

“The irony, of course, being that in the truly olden-days, only women rode greens,” C’Fra said with some acidity.  It was, perhaps, the most personally-satisfying bit of recovered information to come out of all the record-salvaging going on down in Landing.

“Yes, well, just because you can Impress a dragon doesn’t mean you can’t also be an idiot,” C’Len shook his head. “Ancients know we’ve had enough proof of that down through the ages.  But that particular kind of idiot is getting rarer and rarer, sister-mine, so don’t worry too much about it, okay?”

“I don’t, mostly.  I just… wouldn’t want to be in a situation where one of those prejudiced idiots…” she trailed off, and gave a shudder.  C’Len’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“Anith would never permit herself to be caught by a dragon with such a rider.”

Of course not, Anith said.  I would do nothing to cause you distress.

“That’s very sweet, my darling love, but from what I understand, you won’t be focusing on much beyond your own needs, in that particular moment.”

Well what I need is for my rider to be happy.  C’Fra recognized the echo of her own acid tone in her dragon’s voice, and C’Len gave a hearty laugh.

“What a pair you are!” he said, shaking his head.  “I shall miss you both when we’ve gone.”

“Do you really have to go?  Can’t you just absent yourself whenever Anith rises?”

C’Len shook his head again, this time in regret.  “My wingleader thinks it best, and honestly I agree with him.  Greens rise multiple times each Turn- it wouldn’t be good for my wing to have me absent so frequently, and so erratically. Besides which, the chance to spend time at Southern is not exactly unappealing.”

C’Fra sighed.  “No, I suppose not.”

I still do not understand why Tadith may not fly me, Anith complained.  He is really a most excellent brown.

“We’ve been over this, Anith,” C’Fra said, exasperated.  C’Len was stifling laughter, no doubt remembering the time she’d abandoned him to explain human breeding mores to his dragon.  “It is not good when humans mate too close to their own bloodline.”

It is unfortunate, I think, said Anith.  Look at how well close breeding worked for the dragons of Benden Weyr!

“Now love, what is good for dragons is often no good at all for humans.  Imagine if I tried chewing firestone!”

Do not do that!  Anith’s eyes whirled in agitation.  You would break your teeth.  And you do not have the second stomach to process it, so you would not be able to flame even if you were able to swallow any.

“Precisely.  So although I am certain you and Tadith would have a most excellent mating flight, for you are the two most excellent dragons in all of Pern, it would not be so good for C’Len and I.”

I suppose…

C’Len left the following week, and C’Fra lost no time in getting to know the four riders he had mentioned.  Mindful of his statement that it depended on what she was “looking for”, she tried to evaluate them as dispassionately as possible.  Given that all of them were of better-than-average looks, this was not a particularly easy task.  When asked if she had a preference between any of their dragons, Anith replied that her preference was the one who could catch her.

“Anyway why would you want to be dispassionate about a thing like sex?” asked Kivah, the young woman who had ended up Impressing gold Lyzith out of the same clutch C’Fra had Impressed Anith.  Lyzith was still not fully mature, but Kivah was weyr-bred and had the typically casual weyr-attitude about sex.  “Pick whichever one makes your toes curl and proposition him.  None of them are likely to say no!”

C’Fra rolled her eyes at her friend.  “Kivah, who did you lose your virginity to?”

“Lose nothing.  I gave it away!”

“Okay, fine.  To whom did you give your virginity to?”

Kivah thought for a moment, then shrugged.  “I’m not really sure.  That was a while ago.  And it doesn’t really matter- whoever he was, we were just kids, figuring things out together.  No need to make a big deal out of it.”

“Well it’s a slightly bigger deal to me,” C’Fra said.  “I’m not expecting to become weyrmates with whomever I choose to lay down with- I don’t want a weyrmate at this point!  And I don’t even require that we love one another, because obviously there’s no time for that, not if I want to get rid of maidenhead before Anith rises.  But I’d like for there to be mutual respect- perhaps even affection!  I’d like to remember his name, and for him to remember mine.”

“So judgmental!”  Kivah laughed to show she didn’t mean it, then wrapped her arm around C’Fra’s shoulders.  “Look, I happen to know that both T’zel and W’Tarran are exceptionally considerate lovers.  You could do worst for your first time.  Z’Rey is… well, that’s an intense experience, and one you might very well like to save for when Anith rises.”

“And D’Ski?”

“I haven’t managed to trip him, yet, so your guess is as good as mine.”

Dragonlove 07

If time stood still in the moment that Caffera and Anith Impressed, it sped back up again the moment that Caffera realized how hungry Anith was.  It wasn’t just that Anith told her, piteously, that her stomach hurt- it was that Caffera could feel it, in much the same way she had once been able to feel C’Len’s strongest emotions.  Fortunately she was soon provided with a huge bowl of raw meat to stuff down her ravenous dragonet’s maw.

“Not too fast now, Caffera- she may think she can eat it that quickly, but honest she can’t,” said C’Len, who had somehow appeared by her elbow, grinning like a fool.  “She’ll choke herself, the silly thing.  They all try to in these first few hours.”

“Do you hear that, my beautiful one?  You must slow down.”

But I’m hungry, Anith said plaintively, and the sincerity of her voice made tears prick Caffera’s eyes.

“I know, love.  But slow and steady, we’ll fill your stomach without doing any harm to you.  I promise I won’t ever let any harm come to you.”

Nor I you, said Anith, looking up at Caffera with eyes of deepest indigo.  I love you.

“And I love you,” said Caffera, and kissed the dragonet between the tiny nubs on her skull.

Thus began a time in Caffera’s life that was a strange combination of absolutely exhausting and soul-restoringly peaceful.  Tending to the needs of a rapidly-growing dragon took up all of her time and energy, but she’d never been so whole-heartedly happy to devote all of herself to another being.  Everything about Anith was delightful to Caffera: the suede-like softness of her hide, shimmering from yellow-green to green-blue as Caffera oiled her; the way the sun lit the thin membranes of her wing sails, glowing and fluttering like leaves in a summer breeze; the sinuous arc of her neck and the dextrous curve of her claws; her perfectly spaced neck ridges and her elegantly proportioned head; the warm and ever-present comfort of her voice in Caffera’s head.  How anyone thought golds were lovelier was beyond Caffera- her dragon was quick and lithe and delicate, making the larger dragons look downright ponderous in comparison.

Greens, being smaller, reached their adult size more rapidly than any of the other colors, and before eighteen months had passed Caffera and Anith were given leave to begin flying lessons.  Caffera had once thought that nothing could be better than being alone on a cliffside, looking out across the great plains of Keroon.  But then she learned what it was to see all of Pern spreading out beneath her and her dragon, hanging in the skies like a lost star, and she knew that never again would she be content with mere climbing.

The first time the two of them flew Thread was the last time Caffera used the name her parents had given her.  By the end of the day her name had been slurred so many different ways that she eventually put her foot down and claimed “C’Fra” as her own, if only to get some consistency to what people were yelling at her.

I like it, said Anith as they curled up in their wery that night.  It is much less silly than insisting people enunciate a long name.  This last opinion was given with a little mental sniff that told C’Fra exactly what her dragon thought of queens and their self-importance.  C’Fra couldn’t help but grin.

No one would ever accuse us of standing on ceremony, my pet, she said, and reached out to massage the ridges over her dragon’s glowing eyes.

It was true.  By and large C’Fra had a favorable reputation throughout the weyr, as a team willing to take on less desirable- but necessary- jobs, just to make sure they didn’t get left undone.

“It has to be someone,” she’d say with a shrug.  “May as well be someone who will do it right the first time.”  That being said, she wasn’t universally loved, either.  She’d gotten into a few wrestling matches with boys who thought that her being a mere green rider gave them some sort of authority over her.  C’Fra would never be as tall as her twin, but she was strong from years of wrangling herdbeasts and climbing rocks, and those boys soon learned that just because she was willing to work didn’t mean she was at all submissive.  They’d clung to their resentment, but C’Fra hoped that after today they would soon begin to see her as just another rider.

Who cares what they think? Anith said, eyes showing a tendril of yellow annoyance.  None of their dragons are so quick and clever as I am.

That’s not fair, Anith, C’Fra teased. None of the other dragons are so quick and clever as you!

Yes, well, Anith’s voice was exceptionally pleased, and her eyes had returned to a nice mellow blue-green. You are very kind to say so, but surely there must be one or two of the more mature dragons that can at least match me.

C’Fra laughed and gave the green neck an affectionate slap.  But the idea gave her pause.  Who, of the dragons in Igen Weyr, could match Anith, when it came to a mating flight?  Who would she want to match Anith?  No one sprang immediately to mind, and C’Fra realized she had best make the decision before it was made for her- after all, Anith was certainly old enough to rise.

C’Fra had kissed a few of the other weyrlings over the past two years, but felt no special attachment for any of them.  Perhaps she should turn her eyes to some of the older riders?  But she didn’t know them well enough to speculate on who might be to her tastes.  Some of them were handsome enough, certainly, but she had enough Holder in her still to want someone whom she enjoyed for more than just looks.

You could always ask C’Len who he thinks might suit, said Anith carelessly.  He and Tadith have been flying with the others for much longer, after all.

Don’t you have an opinion of your own?  C’Fra asked, amused.

They are not interesting to me in that way yet, her dragon gave the equivalent of a shrug, and C’Fra felt relieved that apparently she had at least a little time to assess the playing field.

Dragonlove 06

Caffera’s fifteenth naming day came and went in the dark of winter, but no one came to collect her.

“It was just me being silly, of course,” she said to the herdbeast she was shearing.  The beast let out a bleat, but did not otherwise protest its ludicrous positioning.  “I don’t know why I got it in my head that the moment I finished my fifteenth turn, a dragon would appear and whisk me off to Igen Weyr.  Of course no one will get me until there’s actually a queen egg to stand candidate for.”

She tried not to let impatience color her thoughts, but it was difficult.  She had waited so long to be of age- and now it seemed she must wait longer still.

“You’d think,” she muttered as carefully clipped around the beast’s neck, “that C’Len might at least drop a hint as to when they expect the next queen to rise.”

“They may not know,” said Errol from the doorway, another beast slung casually across his broad shoulders.  “From what I understand, queen dragons don’t rise on a set schedule.  But they do tend to average at least one mating every two turns during a Pass- more frequently near the middle than the beginning or end.  So don’t fret, my daughter- I’m sure one of the Igen queens will clutch sooner rather than later, and you’ll be free of Hold drudgery.”

Caffera’s face colored at having been caught grousing.  “I didn’t mean it that way-”

Errol laughed and nudged her affectionately with his knee.  “I know you didn’t, Caffy.  It’s not easy to know what you want, but not be able to do anything to work towards it.  We’re not a people that do well with not doing in this family.”

Caffera let out a heavy sigh.  “I think that’s it, exactly.  I just feel… useless.  C’Len is off doing what he’s supposed to do, protecting Pern, and here I am…” she trailed off, not knowing how to express herself without giving offense.

“Here you are, being a great help to your old father,” said Errol kindly.  “And setting an excellent example to your younger siblings that, just because you can’t be doing what you really want to do, doesn’t mean you don’t go ahead and do what needs to be done in the meantime.”

Caffera colored again, and shook her head.  “You make me sound a great deal more virtuous than I feel.”

“A father’s prerogative.  Now, what say we trade off beasts, eh?”

It was nearing summer solstice when at last Tadith and C’Len appeared above the Hold again.  Caffera felt them before she saw them, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to drop the clean laundry she was carrying, and take off running for the courtyard.

Caffera!  Tadith’s voice was joyful in her mind.  Ionath has clutched!  Twenty-seven eggs, and one of them a queen!

That’s wonderful, Tadith!  Please tell C’Len I’ll be there as soon as I finish this.

He is very excited, Tadith confided.  We got special permission to collect you ourselves.  You’ll stay with us, if you want.  Our weyr is very nice, he added in an anxious voice. It opens to the west, so my couch stays wonderfully warm in the afternoon.

Caffera laughed.  At last she was to be a dragonrider!

As it turned out, there was still more waiting to be done at Igen Weyr- the eggs were still hardening, and would not hatch for several more weeks.  But since the waiting weeks were spent primarily in C’Len’s company- when he was not flying Thread- Caffera didn’t mind so much.  And, of course, there was the entire Weyr to explore, and the eggs themselves to admire and handle.  Not that Caffera was encouraged to handle any egg but the queen- but there were eight other hopeful candidates waiting to caress the giant gold orb at any given moment, and more often than not Caffera ended up talking to the inhabitant of whatever egg she ended up closest to.  Perhaps it was because she was the sister of a brown rider, but none of the boys challenged her right to pet any egg she chose.  Besides, she reasoned to herself that if she did end up a queen rider, she would need to be on good terms with all the dragons.

When C’Len and Tadith were flying Thread, Caffera spent time with Ionath’s rider, an extremely talkative young woman by the name of Linnin.  Linnin was newly pregnant, and inclined to mother anyone who would hold still long enough for it.  She was exceedingly kind to Caffera, telling her all of the responsibilities she could expect to take on if she did indeed Impress and become the most junior queen rider, and letting her know how highly they weyr thought of her brother.  “Of course C’Len is very sweet,” she said as the two of them soaked in the communal baths, “And has the makings of a fine wing-second, someday, so we have been very excited to meet his twin.  It must have been very hard for you, to be apart for so many turns.  I know it’s normal in the weyrs for siblings to be raised apart, but I’m holder-bred, like you, and I’ve missed my siblings terribly.  It’s just too bad C’Len will have to go to a different weyr once you Impress-”

“What?”  Caffera laid a hand on Linnin’s arm to halt the flow of chatter.  “Why should he do that?”

“Well, because… well, did anyone explain to you what happens when a queen rises?”

“Yes, of course,” Caffera said dismissively.  “But Tadith is a brown.  I thought only the bronzes flew queens.”

“Well normally yes,” Linnin said carefully, “I mean, usually.  But there are a few exceptions here and there, and we wouldn’t want to take the chance, you know.  Often times a queen will let herself be caught by the male she likes the best- or by the male who is ridden by the man her rider likes the best… I suspect that’s why Skyth caught Ionath so handily- D’Lan and I are weyrmates.  And it seems not unlikely that, with you and C’Len already being so close…” she trailed off and gave a little shrug.  “Better safe than sorry.”

Caffera closed her eyes, caught between laughing and crying.  Is that true, Tadith?

You like C’Len the best, he said, voice puzzled.  Why shouldn’t your dragon like me the best?  Why is that wrong?  Ionath and Skyth are siblings from different clutches.  Is it because you and C’Len are from the same clutch?

Ask C’Len.  Caffera sighed and opened her eyes.  Linnin was looking at her worriedly.

“Tadith doesn’t understand why human siblings mating is any different than dragon siblings mating.  I told him to ask C’Len.  Which was perhaps mean of me.”

Linnin gave her a half-grin and a reassuring pat.  “Well, being a dragonrider does come with responsibilities, after all.”

Years later, Caffera could never clearly remember the events leading up to Impression.  There were a few moments frozen in her memory- the way the dragons’ humming reverberated in her bones; the rising heat from the sand turning the watching crowd into a shimmering mirage; Caffera’s white robes twisting akwardly between her legs as she tried to walk with a dignity befitting her candidacy- many small moments, but no cohesive narrative.  Not until the moment she was standing in a loose circle with the other girls, staring at the great golden egg rocking on its mound.  All around them was the chaos of Impression between boys and and their dragons- young voices crying out in pain or joy, or creeling in hunger.  Suddenly a crack appeared in the golden shell- and Caffera was knocked to her hands and knees by a blow from behind.

“Ow!” she said, and turned to glare at whichever boy had been clumsy enough to stagger into her at this pivotal moment.

But it was not a boy.

It was an awkward green dragonet, and in that moment their eyes met- and at last Caffera, too, knew what it was to be whole.