Post by kayla on Jan 21, 2008 17:17:14 GMT -5
Daevon had been having a hard time with this illness. He had felt each and every panicked dragon, passed that on, tried to soothe the dragons. But he had also felt the death of every dragon that had died when their Rider succumbed, had felt more than heard the keening of mourning that occurred each time a dragon betweened. And the fact of the matter was that it was taking a toll on him - it would have taken a toll on anyone.
And yet the Dragon Healer tried to push on. He worked hard to be able to help each dragon who needed his help, eating and drinking only when someone made him to, and sleeping only when one of the journeyman healers slipped a sleeping draught into his food or drink. He didn't argue, and didn't even resist eating or drinking. He had enough experience to know that he had to take care of himself, even if it was close to impossible to sleep with so much pain around him.
And then the expected, but long-dreaded, happened. He felt Beynath between. He had been standing as it happened, and a tear rolled down his cheek. He did not know the old Gold, but he had been at Telgar long enough to gain respect for her, to know how important she was. And then the keening started. And it was more than with any other. No dragon was more important than another, but Golds - Golds touched more than any other, it was their nature. Each mourning keen paralyzed him briefly, but this one, this one sent him to his knees. Sobbing uncontrollably.
When it finally ended, and the keening subsided, the older man slowly stood and moved to his couch. His head was pounding, and he knew it to be a migraine. However, he knew the others were too busy to ask for a tonic that would take care of his head. Instead he just laid down and covered his eyes, protecting them from light.
As much as he regretted it, as much as he did not want to, he had to, temporarily, close himself from the dragons. He knew he needed to regain his own sanity, his own equilibrium, and it cut him to the heart that, for now, he had to be selfish.
And yet the Dragon Healer tried to push on. He worked hard to be able to help each dragon who needed his help, eating and drinking only when someone made him to, and sleeping only when one of the journeyman healers slipped a sleeping draught into his food or drink. He didn't argue, and didn't even resist eating or drinking. He had enough experience to know that he had to take care of himself, even if it was close to impossible to sleep with so much pain around him.
And then the expected, but long-dreaded, happened. He felt Beynath between. He had been standing as it happened, and a tear rolled down his cheek. He did not know the old Gold, but he had been at Telgar long enough to gain respect for her, to know how important she was. And then the keening started. And it was more than with any other. No dragon was more important than another, but Golds - Golds touched more than any other, it was their nature. Each mourning keen paralyzed him briefly, but this one, this one sent him to his knees. Sobbing uncontrollably.
When it finally ended, and the keening subsided, the older man slowly stood and moved to his couch. His head was pounding, and he knew it to be a migraine. However, he knew the others were too busy to ask for a tonic that would take care of his head. Instead he just laid down and covered his eyes, protecting them from light.
As much as he regretted it, as much as he did not want to, he had to, temporarily, close himself from the dragons. He knew he needed to regain his own sanity, his own equilibrium, and it cut him to the heart that, for now, he had to be selfish.