A Better Way (3/3)

Writers: Corrin, Duskdog
Date Posted: 10th September 2025

Characters: Sybana, Zaphare
Description: Sybana asks for help
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 8, day 5 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Varethos

Sybana

Zaphare

Zaphare scoffed -- an instinctive denial, before she could give herself a chance to think too hard. “Pfft, have you _met_ men? They’re all the same. No respect for us no matter where we come from. Acting all tough, but only against people they know they can beat, or have in a corner. Always thinking they’re _great_ but never paying enough attention to realize they’re _not_, because they just don’t _care_ to pay attention.”

It was true enough, as far as she was concerned. Most of the time, she didn’t hate them. Some of them could be nice, and funny, and were certainly better than others (despite her declaration that they were all the same), and she didn’t mind being friends with them, on a casual basis. She was _definitely_ attracted to them physically, which was… unfortunate.

But she knew better than to trust them.

She sighed heavily, most of the momentary irritation drained all at once. What was she so afraid of? It’s not like anybody back _there_ could hurt her now. Or that anybody here would care what she’d done or hadn’t done. She was in bed with a woman right now, which would have struck her as ironic and hilarious in the moment, if she’d been of a mind to laugh. “Yeah. There was this guy, back home. Cabren. He… had some stuff to hold over my head. All I had to do to keep him quiet was… well, whatever he wanted.” She shook her head bitterly. “And you know how guys are, what they want. _You know._”

Sybana didn’t know what she’d expected, a jilted lover perhaps, a tryst gone wrong. Her imagination and education were both wildly insufficient to predict what Zaphare now confessed. This wasn’t a moment to talk about her brothers, about the wonderful men she knew. She caught Zaphare’s hand, the one that had stilled in her hair as they talked, and squeezed it gently. She wanted to say she was sorry, sorry that that had happened to her, but that didn’t seem sufficient. “We should go pay him a visit,” she said at last. “Is he a holder? A crafter? We could have his brothers and farmhands Searched away so he works the fields alone. Or write his craftmaster blaming him for shoddy goods the weyr received or-- or just have Zollarth stalk him around for a bit.”

“You’d… do that with me?” Zaphare wasn’t sure what she had expected, either. Judgment? That’s what she would have gotten from her mother, from most of the folks back home. It was a situation of her own making, after all. Awkwardness? That seemed more likely -- that Sybana might just not know what to think about it at all. Indifference? Maybe that would have been worst of all.

But she certainly hadn’t expected help getting revenge.

“Well, maybe not the Searching, I’m not sure we can actually do that, but I think it’s awful what he did to you and I don’t think he should just… get away with it.” She paused and bit her lip, wrestling her hold morals and her natural sympathy. “I know… I know how holds are, especially about-- I assume you-- Whatever you did, it shouldn’t have been dealt with like _that_. There was no justice in _that_. He just _used_ you, and I hate it.” She assumed he blackmailed Zaphare for her loose and wanton ways. What a hypocrite he was!

The idea of revenge _was_ tempting. It wasn’t the first time Zaphare had thought about it, of course. Whenever she felt particularly bad -- whatever the reason -- it was nice to imagine chasing Cabren around the fields with Zollarth. Maybe flaming a bit. Or maybe… _well_. She’d thought of worse things, sometimes.

“I haven’t been back,” she said. “Not since I was Searched. I love the idea of scaring him shitless, but… I don’t know. Sometimes I fantasize about that, and strutting around the hold wearing my dragonrider knots -- the wingrider ones I’ll have soon -- and making sure everybody knows what I think of them. Or that I don’t care about them, that I can do what I want and they can all go blow, for all I care. Whatever. But then I figure they’ll just disown me to my face, and maybe I don’t want to give them the pleasure.” But then her face split into a wicked grin. “But with a _goldrider_ and her dragon backing me up? That would be worth it. Like a spit in their faces! You’d really go?”

“I’d go,” Sybana said, which was maybe not very wise, but was very loyal. “Zaphare. You’ve been my first and my best friend here. That’s the whole reason I turned to you today. Of course I want to help you too.”

“Well, I got something out of it, too,” Zaphare pointed out, mostly because she was feeling Emotions and wasn’t sure what to do with them, but definitely knew she didn’t want Sybana to know. “But I’m glad. I’m glad I was able to help. And… I’m glad to have a friend who’ll help me terrorize people. Is there anybody on your _list_? We could make a tour of it…”

“I don’t want to _terrorize_ him exactly, but… I _would_ like to drop in at Emerald Falls at some point and see Lord Corofel-- or run into him at a gather somewhere when I’m looking _especially_ pretty just so he can see everything he’s missing with his drab little…” Sybana trailed off with a self-deprecating laugh. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I have Galgi now and I’m _happy_, but when I think of how he chose _Faldrimme_ over me... I guess I’m still not over it.”

“You _shouldn’t_ be over it!” Zaphare said, propping herself up on her elbow, suddenly passionate. “He screwed you over! I told you, men are canines. We _shouldn’t_ just have to take it. You can dress up in your gather best, and we’ll go. A gather would be good, because then _everybody_ can see. Maybe he’ll be dumb enough to ask you to dance, just so you can say no. But even if he doesn’t, you can dance with other people and have fun so he can see you’re living your best life. Ooh, wait, you should pretend you don’t even recognize him at first!” She cackled gleefully, somehow even more invested in this than in setting Cabren(‘s fields) on fire. “Maybe he’d dance with me. I’m sure I could find a way to take us down into a tumble where my knee ends up slamming into his groin. And it’ll look like an accident. I’ll make sure of it.”

Sybana laughed at the image, at Zaphare’s gratifying zeal. “That would be--” Reckless? Illegal? “_Amazing_. I’ll keep an ear out for any gathers he might be at.”

She gave Zaphare’s hand another squeeze before pulling away and rising at last to dress. “But it’s getting late. I’d better go before people start to talk. Thank you for helping me with… everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” Zaphare rolled over onto her back, folding her hands behind her head. Maybe she’d just relax a while longer. “Are you going to ask Varethos? Should I talk to him first?”

“_Would you_?” Half in her shift, Sybana spun around to look at Zaphare. She practically shone with relief. “I was just thinking I have no idea how I could possibly ask him. I barely know him, and it would be so forward. What could I even say? That he was highly recommended in--” She caught herself rambling and blushed. “Would you ask him for me?”

It was selfish of her. She was certain Zaphare had _some_ level of feelings for the boy, but if she was offering to talk to him, Sybana wasn’t about to refuse.

“Sure, I can ask him. I know you’re shy about it. I’m not.” Zaphare hesitated. What would Sybana think? “I could even be there. You know. If you wanted.”

Sybana was feeling so relieved and grateful in that moment that she was about ready to agree to anything, but then Zaphare’s words sunk in. She paused, bewildered, the little pearl buttons of her sleeve half done up. Her mind raced, a confused jumble of thoughts vying for attention. The first thought was, yes, relief. Relief at the idea of not being alone with a strange man, however handsome he was. She barely knew him. But what would Zaphare even _do_? Supervise? Make sure Varethos behaved? Showed him… that thing she’d liked?

“It would be… improper.” The words came automatically and she knew them to be true. She began to pace. “...But I suppose all of this is rather improper, isn’t it? Varethos is no one to me. Just an assignment to prepare for some other man entirely. Everything is so _strange_ here. The weyr is so _different_, but that doesn’t make it _right_. I don’t know-- I don’t know--” But she did know. She lifted her eyes to meet Zaphare’s. “...I don’t know if I should, but… I would feel safer if you were there.”

Was this how the descent into depravity started? It seemed so mundane and practical.

Maybe she should be more reserved about this, so as not to scare Sybana away, but Zaphare was never great at reading (or obeying) social cues. Or hiding how she felt. She grinned. “What was right back home isn’t what’s right here, that’s all. Different place, different needs, different reasons for doing stuff, right? You don’t have to be scared, or embarrassed. It’s nobody’s business what happens but ours. I’ll be there, it’ll all be fine.” She paused again. “You’re _sure_, right? Before I ask? I’m not a guy, I’m not gonna make you do something you don’t want to do…”

Sybana swallowed. She wasn’t entirely swayed by Zaphare’s argument on weyr freedoms, but she knew one thing for certain. “Ask him. I’m sure.” And she did seem steadier on this. “I need to be prepared when Galgi goes up. I _need_ to learn, to do this right. What I _want_ is to be a good weyrwoman.”

“You will be,” Zaphare replied, surprised to realize that she actually believed it. “And I’ll be here to help, even if all you ever need is _this_.”

Last updated on the October 3rd 2025

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A Better Way (3/3)