Musings and Meditations

[Andrios]

Azaionna sits comfortably before the fireplace.  Her eyes closed she breaths deeply, seeking to center herself.  She begins to cast off surface thoughts,  delving for deep meditation.  Her mind becomes less and less cluttered and she is nearing the desired relaxed meditative state when she hears Fehriel laughing.

One eye snaps open, looking around as the calm begins to melt away and thoughts rush back upon her.  She sees the talking bird that followed Fehriel back from one of  his jaunts.  It is standing on its perch,it's beak open and Fehriel's laugh is pouring out.  Azaionna glares at the bird until it quiets.

Once again she slowly begins to enter a meditatve state. Suddely the calm is shattered by a high pitched chittering.  With a sigh, Azaionna looks around.  A squirrel is looking up and scolding her for gods knows what.  At times like this she almost wishes she had Feh's knack for speaking with animals.  She half expects to see a note or some flower attatched to the furry little bundle of noise.  She sees none, and can't decide if that disappoints her or not.  She shoos the squirrel away.  It leaves reluctantly, scolding as it does so.

Azaionna shakes her head.  "This is ridiculous.  I haven't had this much trouble meditating since my first year with the Sisters."

She closes her eyes to start again.  Just before her eyelids shut she sees the bow that Feh made for her hanging on the wall.  Her eyes snap open again ands she snorts.

"Alright.  Enough is enough."  Azaionna eyes the bow for long moments, glancing from it to her hands and her white robes, then back to the bow again.
"What needs resolved I cannot resolve here.  There are simply too many distractions.  There should not be.. and yet..  I need time alone.  Just me, nature.. Aeridin.. and perhaps  Folian as well.."  *the last is spoken in the barest of whispers*

Azaionna writes a note leaving it where she knows Fehriel will find it.  She hesitates many long moments at the door, finally, suddenly she grabs the bow off the wall. Azaionna practically slams the door shut, before racing down the hall and out the front door.

As the front door slams behinid her Azaionna thinks of the years ago when another door slammed shut.  Her father, and her old life were on the other side of that door.

Azaionna runs as only a monk can utnil she is deep into the whitehorn forest.  There she makes camp among the trees and hums quietly to herself as she enters reverie.

[Andrios]

Azaionna breathes in the scent of he forest, listens to its sounds: the wind in the trees, the chittering of the small creatures, the cries of the birds, the sounds made as predator pursues prey.  The ending of some lives that others may continue.  She shifts position slightly, acutely feeling the weight of the bow across her back.  Azaionna smiles slightly as a memory surfaces and she allows herself to be caught in it.

It is her first hunt.  The bow is not slung across her back, she holds it firmly in her hand.  The bow is a part of her.  It was crafted by her father, a master bowyer, so that the curve of the handle precisely matched the curve of her hand.  Its limbs were perfectly balanced so that it could be held steady with almost no effort.  The bow had been designed especially for her, and on this day she is one with it.  She is proud that she has been allowed to join the hunt.  

She and her father are both headstrong and they clash often.  They love each other, but they both speak thier minds before considering the consequences and it has caused hurt feelings on both sides.  Azaionna is grateful that on this occasion they are getting along well.  They are sharing the responsibility of both bringing food back for the village, and thinning the herd and she feels her father's pride in her.

Azaionna shakes her head and frowns.  "That red-eyed...." She sighs.
"He just does not understand.  I orhpaned myself.  I made that choice.  I tore out my father's heart.  He will not accept me back, he made that clear."

Azaionna glances down at the bow that Fehriel made for her."Am I having doubts now, because I am missing my father, and the rest of my village?  In the deep parts of my mind, am I seeking his approval?"  

She laughs. "As if Father would approve of my recent choice.  He would not be able to decide what was worse.... That Feh is not an Elf or that he is tainted by infernal blood."

Azaionna's face becomes grim. "No, I must admit to myself that these doubts I am having were not caused by Feh, nor by some seceret desire for my father's approval.  I must seek further within, and be true to what I find to understand myself."

[Andrios]

Azaionna sits staring across her fire.  Her mind is far away remembering another campfire.
The one she has named Wolf sits across the fire from her.  He seems interested in hearing about Aeridin.  She is wary because he also claims to have somehow been involved with Corathites.  She cannot tell if he is serious, or just using a technique he believes will get her attention.
They discuss Aeridin for a long time, Wolf seems a exasperated or bitter about the pacifistic stance that pervades Aeridin's faithful.  
She remembers one thing he said in particular, "If Aeridin had been a little more agressive, perhaps half-breeds would still be born, and Life would not have been diminished as it  has been."  
"Well," she thinks, "those may not have been the exact words, but that was his meaning.."  "I wonder if my current state of unease can be traced back to that conversation?"  Azaionna muses.  Finally she shakes her head.  "I think I know when my doubts first surfaced."  

Azaionna sighs, thinking back to that awful night so soon after she came to Mistone.  The battle had seemed to go on for ages.  In the end, she was the only one of her Sisters left standing.  That was more to do with luck,and the sacrafice of her mentor than anything else.  The only one of the bandits that died had died by her hands. Well, by her staff.  Azaionna often wondered how different the battle would have turned out if those she traveled with had not been as concerned with saving the lives of those that fought against as they had been with their own lives.   The bandits operated under no such compunction and had slain the Sisters out of hand, all part of a days work.  
Azaionna had been mortified that she had landed a killing blow.  She did what she could to make payment for her crime against Aeridin, if such a thing could be paid for..  
And Azaionna thought as she stared past the fire that she did not see, "Perhaps that is when the doubts began as well.  Maybe that is when I first began doubting if I was strong enough, good enough to truly and faithfully follow Aeridin as well as He deserves."

[Andrios]

Azaionna moves quickly and quietly flowing from one stance to the next.  Her mind is focused on the precise movements required, the tensing of one muscle, the relaxing of another.  Her technique is flawless and her movements are fluid.  She steps among the fallen leaves and branches as she moves, and yet she makes not a sound.  Azaionna stops when she mis-steps and the snapping of a twig can be heard.  She pauses and listens, but this part of the forest has become used to  her and no untoward sounds are heard.  
Azaionna sighs, as soon as her body stops her mind begins moving again.  She may have had the doubts before, but they never really surfaced until Fehriel made her that first bow and gave it to her.  He had no idea that it was alot like the first bow she had ever owned, when she was very little.  He also had no idea how much it reminded her of her Father, and all that she had given up to become one of the Sisterhood.  In all fairness he could not know.  She had not told him, for that part of her life was closed off forever, or at least she had thought it was.
Azaionna had not realized how deeply she had buried that part of her life,  until she was holding that bow in her hand.  Old thoughts had returned then, memories of the pride she felt at being able to pull the bow back at first.  As time progressed she had even become a fair shot, again earning praise from her father.  She thanked Fehriel for the bow and then left it at the house, intending to never use it.  
Fehriel also talked her into going to Dregar with him, to check on the threat imposed by the giants on the villages in the forest as well as the town known as Vale.  Reluctantly she agreed to go, having been convinced that her healing skills would be needed for Fehriel and those that went with him.  The group that went turned out to be quite small and once or twice Feh was beset by groups of giants.  Without thinking Azaionna jumped to save him.  She kicked the giants in the tender areas of the legs and otherwise used their own weight against them to knock them down, then she found herself applying blows to vital areas, eyes, throat, any target that presented itself, to give Fehriel time to back out of the danger.  She had caused death that day as well.
Later, she tried to explain to Fehriel her mixed emotions...  She told him that she was upset because of  what they had done, what she had been apart of.  Feh almost understood.   He told her to think of all the innocents their actions had saved.  She had replied, "Yes, I know.  My father would be proud."  What she had not been able to say, what had caused her distress, was that despite the death she had caused, Azaionna herself agreed with Feh, they had been of service to those the giants would have preyed upon.  Was that the way a follower of Aeridin should feel?
Azaionna wipes away a tear at the memory and once again throws herself into practicng her forms, anxious for the absence of thought the movements will bring her.

[Andrios]

Azaionna glides through her forms, a satisfied smile on her face.  She finishes her final stance, and in one fluid movement picks up her bow and begins firing at a target some distance away.  She has been practicing this way for a couple of weeks now and her aim is improving.  Azaionna thinks back to the incident that she thinks triggered her need to be away by herself and think things out.  
It was right after Feh told her she should see her father, that she did  not have to be an orphan if she did not want to be.  Azaionna thinks maybe this is why she had the issues all mixed up before.
A group gathered just as they finished their conversation, and the group ended up retrieving the oil that the horse herder had lost.
The group was large and worked well together.  Azaionna was able to focus completely on healing those that were involved in the fray, sprinting about with potions, applying healing kits when the pace was more reserved.  
However, on the way back out of the mountains, she strayed slightly to the back of the group.  The main battles were taking place on the tops of ridges and far away on the lookout towers.  Azaionna found herself limited by the terrain and unable to reach them with healing supplies.  Finally, with shaking hands, she unslung her bow, aiming it up towards where the fights ensued. When it came to it, she never pulled the string back, never released the arrows to puncture the flesh of ogre and giant.   Azaionna had spent a lot of time since then coming to the realization of why not.  At first she had assumed that it was simply because she dreaded taking life, any life.  That was true at least partialy.  She had come to realize, or perhaps just admit, something.  She did not think she drew the line of "last recourse" at the same place that Aeridin did.   Since leaving the temple, Azaionna had seen firsthand that evil was more active more malovent than she had believed back at home.  She felt that she could not take the pacifistic stand she felt Aeridin desired.  Azaionna admitted finally to herself that the reason she had not let go of her bow string was not because she did not want to harm the ogres, but rather because she did not want to hit one of her allies by mistake.
With a slight shake of her head Azaionna retrieves her spent arrows, returning them to her quiver.  Then she sets her bow down and goes to bathe in  a nearby stream.   As the sweat and worry washes off a slight smile returns to her face.  She climbs out of the stream, and reaching past her white robes she pulls out a comfortable green dress.  
Azaionna slips easily into meditation and once she is refreshed she begins slowly making her way back home.