Welcome to Gaia! ::

Oh, shards. His sister of all people had heard what he’d said. Ionan knew he was in trouble as soon as he lifted his head to look. He sighed. There was no point in running, supposing the candidatemaster found out. Had that word really been so bad? Ionan had learned it in a song his friend T’rin had taught him. He gave a hopeful smile in her direction—maybe he wouldn’t be in so much trouble! She was his sister, after all.

No such luck. She looked furious. He found himself taking a step back. “Sorry!” He said, hurriedly. Maybe she’d forgive him and that’d be that.

No such luck. He’d only seen that expression once before. T’ye had deserved it. He wasn’t sure he did.

Well, he’d hoped. It didn’t seem like it’d worked. “In a song,” he said. Could Demanthra get T’rin into trouble? He was a rider now. Still, Ionan felt a surge of loyalty for his friend. “A friend taught me it.”

He looked into her eyes. That was a mistake. He could almost see fire there. He swallowed and looked away. “I really am sorry,” he said. “I don’t even know what it means. I—please don’t tell mom.”

“A friend! He’s not a candidate anymore so you can’t do anything to him anyway, can you?” Was T’rin a weyrling still? He couldn’t remember. “But I didn’t know what the word meant!” He argued. If their mom heard about this he’d never hear the end of it. “You know I’m always trying to do my best. Don’t tell her, please?”

He hoped she’d agree. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t have a dragon to help him get out of trouble. “I really am sorry. Don’t tell her!”

“He’s a rider,” Ionan muttered. Shards, he didn’t want T’rin in trouble! What would his friend do if someone spoke to him about using certain words?

When Demanthra assured him that she wouldn’t tell their mother, he wrapped his arms around her and muttered a thank you. But Demanthra was probably still angry. Ionan pulled back to study her. “Extra chores?” He asked.

Ionan was grateful that Dea didn’t press for his friend’s name. “I promise!” He agreed, hurriedly. “I didn’t know what it meant,” he said. “I wouldn’t have used it at all if I’d known!”

Helping the healers didn’t seem so bad...to start?! How many extra chores was she planning to give him?

“Dea...” he began, preparing to protest. “I don’t think...” but was arguing worth the chance of getting more chores on top of the ones planned?

“Yeah. At least I know it’s a word I shouldn’t say,” Ionan agreed, quickly. He’d never use that word again if it kept Demanthra from telling their mother. “No! I’ll happily help the healers!” He said. He almost liked working with the healers, not that he’d tell Dea that. It wouldn’t be a punishment if he enjoyed it.

“I won’t complain, he added. “Don’t be too mad at me, Dea.

"I won't say it again," Ionan promised. He didn't want to get into anymore trouble than he already was in. He definitely wanted to avoid his mother's wrath, his sisters were scary enough. "Alright," he agreed. He wanted to protest, still, but he knew better. Dea was going to be scary if he argued. Didn't she think helping the healers was enough of a punishment?