Just Add Hope
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: Aaron, AL, KC
Date Posted: 7th September 2025
Characters: K'daen, K'don, Vandor
Description: Kaedin gets some words of encouragement
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 6 of Turn 12
The sharp scent of redwort and the crisp tang of numbweed hung heavy in the air, clinging to Kaedin’s skin like guilt. He hadn’t meant to rush, he knew better than to rush; but the chaos after Fall had been unrelenting, and he’d been pulled between three dragonpairs in rapid succession. In the moment, it had seemed a minor detail: a torn flexor tendon in the left wing, not the right. But the correction had come swift and sharp, the voice of the senior dragonhealer low but edged with disappointment. Now, tucked into the far corner of the storeroom with the door not quite latched, Kaedin sat on an overturned crate, elbows on his knees, fingers trembling against his forehead. The room was dim, lit only by the glowbasket overhead, and the orderly shelves of jars, rolled bandages, and labeled herbs blurred around him.
His breath came shallow. Then faster.
Too fast.
His chest felt tight. Like his lungs had shrunk and left no room to breathe at all. He couldn't stop thinking about how one mistake could lead to more. What if he’d cost a dragon its flight? Its life? What if the other dragonhealers thought he didn’t belong here; wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t sharp enough, wasn’t useful enough?
He pressed the heel of his hand into his sternum, chasing the spiraling feeling back down, but it didn’t stop. It never stopped...
A faint, rhythmic clink of glass came from where his knee had bumped a rack of tincture bottles, giving him away.
The sound of glass bottles caught Vandor’s attention and he turned toward the sound. Frowning, the man strode quickly over to the storeroom, from whence the sound had originated. Opening the door, he peered inside. At first, the dim light cast enough shadows to bath everything in grey, but as his eyes adjusted, he could make out the form of a young man, and instantly, he recognised him.
Kaedin was not a person healer, but a dragonhealer, and as such, Vandor did not have direct authority over him. However, as dragonhealers and regular healers had to work together, especially when a dragon was hurt as well as the rider, and treatment wasn’t as simple as only helping one, he knew many of the dragonhealers by face, if not by name. What was he doing there?
As soon as Vandor realised the expression upon Kaedin’s face and heard the sound of his breathing, the question didn’t matter any longer. Something was wrong, and assessing the matter quickly, Vandor stepped inside. He pulled the door just enough so no one would automatically walk in, but with a crack that allowed a sliver of light in. It gave them a semblance of privacy.
“Hey, are you all right?” He asked softly, his low voice rumbling deep in his chest and bouncing off the walls of the room, even when speaking softly.
K'don held back mutters as he poked his head in to investigate what that sound had been. He sneaked around the corner, tip-toeing carefully so as not to startle whatever it was. He wanted to be sure. He already had enough on his plate for cleanup after the Fall. If there were tunnelsnakes getting into the stores again, he was going to--
"Oh." Not tunnelsnakes. "It's you. Is... everything all right?"
Kaedin didn’t look up. He couldn’t. The sound of his name, or maybe just the presence of someone, made his heart lurch painfully in his chest. His mouth parted, but the words tangled at the back of his throat. All he managed was a shaky inhale that stuttered like a flame in the wind.
“I...” he rasped, voice cracked and useless. He clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut. **You’re fine. Say something. Get it together.** But the panic didn’t listen. His lungs refused rhythm. His hands trembled harder, useless things, and still, still, he couldn’t find the stupid pouch.
For a moment that seemed to K'don to hang in the air for ages, he looked to the healer. He knew what he was doing. But... Well, maybe this was something that a friend could help with. He would not get in the way.
In actuality, K'don had only hesitated for a second. He sat down on the floor next to Kaedin and took a deep, slow breath.
"That one was pretty rough, wasn't it? It's all right. We can just breathe here for a minute, all right?"
Vandor remained there a moment, then stepped back without a word. He disappeared, allowing the men to simply sit and be. He was not gone long and returned but a couple of minutes later, a glass of water in his hand. Approaching, he offered it to Kaedin, a gentle smile upon his face.
Kaedin's fingers finally brushed the soft, worn edge of the pouch; too far behind him on the crate where it must’ve fallen. His hand closed around it like a lifeline, dragging it forward into his lap with a muffled sound that was half-sob, half-exhale.
“I...I didn’t mean t..” he tried again, voice thin, brittle. He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for. The tendon? The noise? The moment of weakness?
The warmth of K’don’s quiet presence beside him, the steady rhythm of his breath, and the sudden cool press of the water glass against his hand grounded him just enough to find the words.
“I can’t mess up,” he whispered, barely audible. “Not if I’m never going to Impress. This is all I have.” He stared at the pouch in his lap, knuckles pale. “I _have_ to matter some other way...”
His throat tightened again, but this time, the tears didn’t fall. He just sat still, the pouch pressed hard between his palms, willing the panic to ebb beneath the silent promise in K’don’s breath and Vandor’s quiet kindness.
"You matter. Whether you're a dragonrider or a healer or... or anything. You matter because you're a person, not because of what you can do for other people," said K'don. "Or whether you mess up sometimes."
"You're not out of time to Impress. But even if you don't, you'll still matter. Everyone makes mistakes. People made mistakes up there today." He really did not want to think much more on _that_ part of his experience that day, but it was true. It was impossible to perform perfectly every single time. And sometimes, that got you or someone else hurt. "None of that was your fault."
“If perfection were required, then no one would be able to do anything. I’d have been kicked out of the Healing Craft many turns ago.” Vandor eased himself to the floor, joining the small group, and pressed his back against the wall. Lifting his hands, he gazed down at them, closed them, then opened them before bending his knees and draping his arms over there. “You and I, we hold lives in our hands. It’s not an easy path.” For a minute he paused, letting the silence settle. Something stirred within it, unspoken, ringing of a past, of something in the darkness that he didn’t speak, but felt quite deeply. “The thing is, sometimes we forget we already matter. Whether you do this or something else, you matter. Everyone in this Weyr matters, because we all do our part to help.” His dark eyes lifted and settled upon Kaedin. “Just remember, we’re all in this together. You’re not alone.”
Kaedin blinked hard, once. Twice. The glowlight blurred again, but this time not from panic.
“I don’t know how to... not expect myself to be perfect, to be better” he whispered, voice rasping against the quiet. “Every time I try to breathe, it feels like the air won’t stick.”
His hands tightened around the pouch again, grounding himself in the familiar feel of the stitched leather and the faint scent of herbs. He dared a glance at K’don, then Vandor. They weren’t judging. They weren’t walking away.
He swallowed. “But... thank you. Both of you.” It came out thin, but steady, fragile hope stitched between each word.
“I... think I can breathe now.” He didn’t entirely believe it yet. But maybe, with them there, he could try.
Last updated on the September 18th 2025