Llast, Mistone
Outside, the noise of the city faded away with falling dawn and the sounds felt as familiar yet strange and alien as the dust on his skin. One hour, each day. Not more, and not less. It was an hour without thought, memories, anything conscious apart from the work that needed to be done. But the memories, and the thoughts and the wishes, they came and never truly went away, obnoxious bystanders with gray faces, no matter how hard he tried to make them go away. The carving knife scraped, and the wood sounded and vibrated like bones. Bones. Yes. At first, he wanted to make it from bones.
The camp stretched out into all directions, and amidst the soldiers and workers carrying out their tasks, William found himself in the military encampment near Sundance. He paid for his passage with a bag of coins and walked into the rows of tents stretching out into all directions. Finding the command tent should be easy. Always was.
An young, bearded bowman studied him with a distrustful expression, and William stared him down. Calm. Cool, harsh like Krashin ice and just as indifferent to death and suffering.
"Lieutenant, here's a paladin of the Great Leader!" the bowman yelled slightly over his shoulder without leaving William out of his eyes. A scout. That would explain the knife sheath attached to the left shoulder instead at the belt. Or maybe it was just a platoon with loose regulations.
The lieutenant was a almost as young as the bowman and wore the insignia of the Company of the Stars. He frowned, snorted, gave the bowman a nod and addressed William.
"This way."
He led him towards the main pavilion and asked him to wait, the Commander was out for a patrol through his camp. Getting an overview, too.
William crossed his arms behind his back and studied the layout of the camp, found himself searching for weak points, found himself thinking on how to attack it efficiently, found himself defending it in the case of utmost chaos and disorder. Lance and all officers would claim that they would do admirably, but where was the breaking point, where was their breaking point? And, more importantly, did the enemy know of it and how to exploit it?
Jingling armor and blades announced the return of Commander Lance Stargazer and his entourage. He seemed to be a bit more tired since William last saw him, but still moved with the same joyful stride and the calm smile William remembered him to have. Compared to the people in Fiorez, his demeanor was of preposterous joyfulness, even though William knew that he simply had spent too much time among well trained, no-nonsense war machines and scared veterans.
"Now, what do we got here?" A smile betrayed the commander's good mood. "Greetings William. Welcome to Sundance." His voice was calm, yet joyous. As if William was a lost son returning home, but he wasn't. Not really. His face is harder, more guarded than when Lance met him last. He has grown some muscles, and his cloak and whole appearance appears more fit for a knight errant than any parade ground. He still wears his old, heavy cloak, but his armor underwent some changes. The thin layer of protective paint gives it a dark hue and makes the with great care and a lot of patience engraved names a lot more obvious, at least in this light.
When Lance approaches, he stands at attention with drilled, quick precision, and he salutes.
"Just another soldier, Sir Commander Stargazer!"
His voice is not necessarily sharper or louder, but it has a new sound to it. Determined, but there is something new as well, a certain confidence and hardiness. He doesn't lose the salute or stops standing at attention, but he studies the Commander with a calm expression in his eyes that look like many eyes around - of those that have seen and experienced too much. But there's something new to them as well, a concealed, intense expression. Must have been ages since he smiled himself, last.
"Thank you Sir for welcoming me. I came with reassignment orders, Sir. Have you been informed?"
His tone is clear, and straight to the point. Still, something amused the Commander.
"Perhaps just another soldier, since we are all here to fight and protect those who can't protect themselves isn't it? And that doesn't make me less happy to see how one of my former students its developing."
He paused before continuing.
"Alas, I was in the knowledge that the term of your service with the Garra has come to an end, I received a note of you being sent back to us.", Lance said and continued in a more formal voice, "At ease, soldier. Take a seat and tell me how is the Principality? How are the people that were sent towards the principality 16 months ago? How are Marion, Marinus and Hector?"
William stood at ease at once and smiled a smile with certainly mixed expressions.
"Thank you, Sir."
He sat down a bit reluctantly, as if used to standing all the time.
"Marion got into the seventh rank, as did the Lady Eliza Karlgarl. They both did well. Hector is fine as well, I expect him to gain some ranks within the Shining Hand. Marinus is missing in action as far as I can tell. With all due respect, next time we need more clerics - a paladin can't cast strong enough blessings for all kinds of wounds, nor can he ward people against what we fought. I had people dying of wound infections or grave wounds I could not heal. Toran provides, for sure, but spellweavers and healers certainly help. The Chosen One said it was too dangerous for clerics in Fiorez."
He frowned slightly and continued to speak in a much calmer, lower voice.
"Not many civilians left in Fiorez City, Sir Stargazer. Lots of orphans, economy will be difficult. I guess it will take some years until they come back to full strength."
He clenched his left hand to a fist and rubs his knuckles in thought.
"I buried too many fathers, sons and daughters, too many died in my arms."
He looked up, still frowning, but the frown goes away slowly while he looks at Lance.
"Lord Jaedon Siphe will claim the Garra won. The Chosen One will claim that Toran was victorious. The soldiers from Nesar will claim that they won. Don't ask me who of them is right or wrong, Sir. Be it Nesar, dragons, Lord Siphe, Hilm - as ambitions as they all are, as large are the fields with the dead."
His frown returns.
"They gave me medals, acknowledgments, that sort of thing. I don't feel that it means anything at all. Pieces of metal. Melt them, make a pot or a hammer out of them, something useful. Could have done without them." He shakes his head.
"Oh, and the Lord Siphe kicked me out of his Garra."
He then leans closer and whispers something into Lance's ear, only for him to hear.
"Make what you want from it. I'd like to mend things with her, but no time for that kind of stuff.
I worry. If he doesn't get around marrying one of the two princesses, he needs to turn to the Racta again. Nesar is stronger than us, and they support the enemy. Trouble's brewing, Sir. Lots of trouble."
He leaned back again and looked at the Commander again with the calm, guarded eyes.
"That's the news from Fiorez, Sir."
He paused for a moment, then reached into his satchel and held a book out to Lance.
"My old diary. You can read it, at you discretion. I'd like to give it to you for safe keeping, if that would be possible, Sir. I'd like to start a new one. Study book, this time."
Lance listened intently as the report went on, not interrupting, perhaps a bit saddened on the missing Marinus.
"I see.
As for your request for clerics, as you could understand clerics are special people, and its not like we can "train" them to feel the call, even here and in Huangjin we don't have all we'd like, at this rate I am sorry to hear about the loses, and yes the victory on a war only means that lots more could have died, there are no true winners at war.
I am glad to hear that Milady Eliza is well, her importance for this crusade goes way more than the simple raising on ranks or the marriage with Siphe, as it stands now she is the only link on the diplomatic things, at least that plot worked."
He frowned, his expression one of regret and reassurance before he continued a bit more sarcastically.
"Also, I don't order who goes and who doesn't to that Principality from Hilm or the other way around, apparently that is only them having that right. There are wars fought in the field of battle and others in the halls of court, and I swear I hate the diplomatic ones, yet one has to learn how to fight them. You may forgive my ramblings on this account, just measuring the results of the situation on agreement to your report.
Nesar is stronger than us, maybe, and maybe they want us everyone to think that, there has been some movements from them in that regard, yet It wasn't Nesar who has to fight the worst this continent has to offer, another thing that will have to consider, they may threaten but it will be costly for them to act, they are governed by Corathites if you didn't know, and as you know those of their ilk are cowards, this doesn't mean I've underestimated them, but i also don't overestimate them.
And yes the situation has been trouble some since the start. In regards to the dragon, I have a question -did it went to sleep as our "intel" said it would once this battle was over?
About the rest - I won't do anything of it, it was quite obvious that those two were in love since long ago, Siphe is a strange man, some lack of confidence, and yet in my experience he is an honorable man, I do hope that all the pain that has been this war is worth in the end, there has been many casualties yes, and not only physical ones, there are things that never will be the same again."
The Commander smiled a bit, in a sad way and more to himself. "And yet again I am rambling."
He took the journal then looked at the cover, nodding before skimming over a few pages and notes. Then he closed it, placing it on a heap of reports and notes waiting to be looked over.
"And now that you are here, and the term in the Garra has come to an end, what is what you plan to do?", he said with a calm voice, as if to sooth William, who smiled a little, polite, shy.
"You're not rambling, Sir. I can't look inside your head and read your thoughts, and I am very glad that you share them with me. If all conversations where finely honed, it'd be quite a bit dull.
I am not entirely sure if the Dragon is gone or asleep. If he is asleep, I'd like to know what put him to sleep - even after the Chosen One killed another of his self's or spawns or whatever they were, his forces and he attacked. I hope the Shining Hand looks into it, not that we are overlooking some nefarious plots right in front of our eyes. I'd do it, but I am lacking the training, the authority clearing and so forth. There are more competent people that can do that, I guess."
He didn't say anything in regards to Siphe and Hilm and Nesar, but he glances towards the exit of the tent and outside with a thoughtful, intense look.
"It'll be known how things develop."
He paused for a moment, thinking. His baritone is calm and thoughtful. Patient.
"My grandfather, who adopted my father, had a library. A small one. Private. Even had a small shelf only for stories that could be read to children."
Again, he smiled, as if lost in a fond memory.
"Quite possible that he shouldn't have had a library, I am not sure. He died when the house burned down, by now, I have the feeling that somebody did it on purpose. What I'd like to do is to read a lot, study a bit. Being to create my own library, in a sense. There are many paths through life, many things that should be documented, and a lot to be learned from the deeds that are forgotten but to some pages of parchment hidden away somewhere.
Study various things because knowledge is a valuable tool for those that walk on the path the Great Leader walked before us. I'd like to write down what I learned in the training in Fiorez, and build and improve that training. Train a lot. Learn about warfare, strategies, tactics. Rhetoric as well, organization. Maybe I can find a way to contribute to improve our capability to win conflicts of all kinds. Maybe do some philosophic work for the church as well, depending if I am allowed, and if I am not, well, even I am allowed to have spare time activities."
So that is what I would like to do after some rest and spare time. I feel exhausted, and some time away from combat would be good so I could regain some strength and balance, if I may." He looked at Lance.
"But I would like to hear your thoughts and ramblings on that, Commander. Things you might think are important to consider."
The older paladin listened intently, nodding a couple of times, as old mentors and veteran commanders do.
"I do agree with you, indeed study would give us the ability to react to the impediments, but let me tell you that usually its never as easy as in the books. I thought that you would be in the need of some rest, been at least a year and half since you arrived here, I am sure that you may wish to see how your brother is doing.
I wish I had the time for going with you to Mistone, I'd show you a shrine I build on the hill near Llast, I used to go there for meditation and have a lot of good memories of the place. Before you go to Llast I'll give you a letter that will allow you entrance to my office in the temple. Feel free to skim through the books I have there for strategy and such, please don't take any of them outside the chamber, that is the only request I have for you in exchange. They may not be the most updated but they would give you some extent on history and battles of our world. The tactician who wants to work to live the future, has to learn from the victors of the past, that is what my teacher said when I was younger."
The he paused and looked at him for a moment, as if to take measurements for how to approach the next part of what he wanted to say.
"Raelyn was here for a time, but she went home some months ago, you probably be able to see her in Llast.
And the other thing - I'd like to hear about the training there, it was supposed to be about fighting the Garra and our enemies in Khul, and that intel is always welcome.
As for the dragon.. I think i have not explained myself on this. I am speaking of Rectafieroz not the Deepening dark here, I've faced the spawns of the Deepening One, and believe me its nothing compared to Rectafieroz. The red dragon was supposed to go to sleep after this cause he was deeply wounded and needed to rest after all this battles back in the day the Khul was putting us on Siege. This of course its unconfirmed intel, and hence why i wanted to hear if you heard something on Fiorez City - that name would be so good to be changed though.
The situation here is mostly under control, with the horde on the run and the moral down, there are squads on the run and has been thru all the month, I sent an edict for Hilm to be mourning for all this year, there were too many deaths. And yet we still have to think of those who are still alive, and to keep them that way.
You are free to stay the time you want of course, I've already made arrangements for you to have a tent and if and when you decide to move let me know i could arrange a faster trip to Llast than the long way by ship."
William nodded slowly, then bows his head to Lance.
"Thank you Commander. That is very generous of you. I will try and make good use of it, has been some time I last studied and learned."
Falling silent for a moment, he then continued,
"We're not on good terms anymore, Raelyn and me, maybe some people who said it in the past were right and I have no heart and no emotions, maybe it's just not thing for me, that love and family stuff..."
He frowned before addressing the next issue.
"I plan to adapt and improve those lessons from Fiorez. Maybe I should go to Huanjing for a bit, or to the dwarves and their halls, and train and learn a bit more. It'd take time, but might help me create some new recruiting and training standards...
As far as the Dragon is concerned - he did not come to the fight when we pushed back to the border, and none of the Fire Giants were to be seen. That is as much as I know, unless I forgot something...I'd like to rest a few days, and then head back. Is the fast way only in one direction?"
Lance smiled a bit at him.
"When I was young , I was far less patient than that, I had great feelings for a responsibility that was brought upon me by the delusions of my past, it took a way more patient man than me to teach me the true value of books and study, I was all about getting out and "save the day" if you know what I mean. I am happy I don't need to teach you that, just as an advice, since it can't go both ways, I know you'll do what is right on the moment and you have judgment on your own, just don't let the study to forbids you of the joy of helping others with more direct action."
Nodding slowly a bit after hearing the about Raelyn, he just added, "I am sorry to hear, it was a lesson hard learned for me too. I didn't mean to bring back sad memories."
He then returned to the other things he wanted to talk about.
"I am more interested in to learn the drills they use, since that is the how the Cult trains currently their troops, that would tell us about the norms and routines they do and as well of their formations, improving its something that can be done yes, but I'd like to hear or read a report of your time there if you won't mind. I mean a report made as an officer, I'll complement that with the diary notes that you so kindly left me here.
The fast way can be arranged but for now it is just one way, since it will be used as a special request, that portal in Hilm that leads to the Blackford castle on Mistone, we tend to keep the access restricted for good reasons -- our enemies can't learn of this, as you'll surely understand."
William was quiet, very quiet when the Commander spoke, glancing around and especially towards the tent entry, maybe being a bit too vigilant for his own health. But his calmness covered most if it, maybe it was some sort of new stress resilience and its side effects.
"I think I understand what you are saying, Sir. With all the trouble I had recently, one does develop some kind of reputation, and my own might be gone to greener pastures. But I let them think what they think, in the end, I only need to defend my own actions from me and Toran, nobody else."
After a brief pause he continued:
"What I wanted to say - I am doing what I can, for every deed there is a time and place. There is enough evil and injustice in this world. Right now, I plan to see if the things I thought I learned and noticed are correct. I am lacking information, and I need to remedy that as fast as possible. I need to find those people that I can trust in certain questions, and, with all due respect Commander, I doubt that you have the time to answer all my questions. Or spend enough time with a certain topic to answer them, I assume. Of course, if you know accounting and such things to great detail and enjoy talking about it..."
He looked outside again.
"With all due respect, Commander, but I would rather write the training schedule down and maybe be so bold to ask if you could help me with coming up for a better training schedule and so forth for our own troops, building on experience and all that. Maybe we also could find a solution on what to do with the orphans an all as well. I think I'll stay here, at least until I wrote down what I learned and we talked about it properly."
Lance smiled a bit.
"Reputation is important but I am not speaking about what you experienced in the camp, I am giving advice based on my own experiences, just that. I understand your desire of starting fresh, but reputation its something we may strive for, we have to lead by example and yet what you say its true, its to your principles and Toran we should reply first, we should look to inspire people to be better."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Well.. you may have chance to test the fruits of your training in the field, and sadly there is no training that would prepare one for a war, the academic part allows one to understand the why's but once the war and the battle start, one has to learn how to react, yet I know that you may have your share on this wisdom, and to prepare the information on academics for war its always advisable. I am glad that you see the time and place thing, makes this words easier."
Lance laughed.
"You are of course welcome to stay, I assumed that you would before you returned, I'll assign you a tent to stay for the time being, if wanted to join the efforts of reconstruction then I'll assign a more permanent dwelling and a unit to serve under. For now Rest, Sundance needs all the tranquility we can have for now... I do hope to receive the reports on troops and the enemy movements and see if we can stir the limits of Khul a bit. Those cowards...."
William nodded.
"A tent is enough for now. Thank you Sir."
He reached for his helmet and hesitated, tapping on his helmet briefly.
"Something to consider then. Thank you for your time, Commander. If you need my skills, I will be ready, rest or no. Only in death, duty ends."
He then saluted and waited for being dismissed.
"As usual William but its only through life that we have the joy of serving, for the greater good, of course if you are needed you'll be called, but we had a very rough time on this war.. and more its to come, so for now rest. And let me know any plans you have," Lance said with a fatherly smile.
"I plan to write a few things down, Commander. The training schedule, and my thoughts on it, among other things. Need to write a few letters. Test a training schedule, Sir. It's hard to find joy in life and your duty if you buried so many sons, daughters, fathers for a war between two dragons, killed from things that a corps of healers, spellweavers and priests could have prevented to happen to them. Joy is something that rarely happens to me, Commander. I suppose it is hard to understand. I looked out for my siblings. I tried to look out for my fellow students. I tried to look out for the men and women around me in battle, those that did not take offense because of their rank." He fell silent for a moment, continuing to speak slowly, his voice way more mature, convicted and firm than during previous conversations.
"I have received enough criticism for when I said that "I am dead.", and in its depth I should talk with a priest of the Hand of Virtue and the Lifegiver about it. It is a complex matter, and I did not have nearly enough time to write about it. The Chosen One said I was lacking respect and understanding for the Conducts. That I could not stand up for myself. It weights on me, this matter, and I am of half a mind to dismiss it altogether. Her upbringing was different than mine, and maybe she things that arguments can be best settled with a duel of blades, and be it on how each of us deals with the fact that we must face and accept death and our own mortality."
He shook his head slowly.
"It is not the way that I was taught. I fight to kill, not to settle a mere dispute. I fight to defend, and only because others showed so much hostility that all other options are gone. Nothing shows more weakness than hitting somebody else with a fist because you do not like his or her stance on whatever it is that you are quarreling about under normal circumstances. That's the way I was brought up. That's what I came to understand by reading Toran's teachings. I found that accepting death and suffering and something that is inevitably connected with life, yes, to accept that with my birth my death became a certainty. It is something to accept, to understand. I am mortal, and thus, I must die eventually."
"It does not mean to deny life. It means that I must make a choice - faced with my own fate, I could simply give up and do nothing anymore. Or I could just go on, despite my own mortality, draw strength from the fact that my time is finite, limited to a certain amount of days and hours - and that in each moment, I must try to do things to the best of my abilities and beyond, I must follow the conducts and teachings Toran has set out for us. The pledge you Commander and I took - " He looked at Lance with a calm, thoughtful expression and continued, "it speaks of bringing glory to Toran's name. Toran is not interested in whatever glory is brought to his name, so I read, so my father, mother and grandfather taught me. Only that we do the good and right things. Sometimes, that means to stand firm in the battlefield, to kill our enemies on what is little less than a field of controlled slaughter, glorified by others. Sometimes, it means to lend our backs and arms to rebuilding efforts, sometimes, we lend our shoulders, arms and cheeks to rebuild ruins of the soul. Is there glory? No. Not in these things. I chose to stand up, faced with my own mortality. I chose to do what is good and right, but I do not do it for glory, honor, or whatever else there be. I do it, for it is the essence of my being, the core of my soul. Duty, protection, combat - I chose to carry on. To keep going, no matter the circumstances. My grandfather said that the path of the Guardian is the hardest, but also that one must not let go ones abilities to waste, and that the most ordinary person can find a strength inside that helps her or him achieve the most extraordinary goals, far beyond what others thought that she or he was capable of."
He flexed his fingers and rested his palm on the pommel of Sacrifice.
"Some can push themselves far beyond the gates of pain and misery, others cannot. This world is a world of strife, pain, suffering, originating in conflicts old and new. It requires guardians that stand vigilant in the twilight when all others are asleep. I wonder where the guardian was in recent conflicts. I wondered until I understood that I cannot blame anybody, but that it is my role as well. It was a hard lesson, and I dislike all the talk about price. Life is no currency to be spend to achieve a certain goal, not in warfare, not in the discussion of fates."
He tapped the pommel of the blade.
"This blade should be called Endurance - for others did the sacrifice, but I chose to go on. And it seemed that nobody understood my choice, my thoughts..."
He smiled a bit in a thoughtful manner.
"Thank you for listening to me, Commander. Thank you for listening to my rambling. I will talk with a priest, eventually." He fell silent. "I need to go to the healing tents as well. Working out is not really putting me to sleep anymore, and despite meditation, some things are hard to put aside."
"You don't find joy you say." Lance couldn't help to smile a bit to himself, perhaps having heard those words more than just once, perhaps entertaining himself with a thought or two.
"Tell me then Will, please humor my question why is that you fight for? In ten words? Why to suffer all that ? Why to die protecting?", he left the question floating in the air and looked William in the eyes.
"I meant to say that it is hard to find joy, Commander, not that it is impossible. Why should joy be what I work for and what motivates me?
Did I not answer this question already? Did I not say that our own mortality puts a choice before us? There is nobody else to walk my path, but me. Are you setting up a rhetorical and philosophical trap here, Commander?"
His eyes were calm, focused, and had an intense expression hidden within them. There was not hostility or confusion in them.
"The answer to your question is: Because nobody else can. With all due respect, Commander, do you think all in life happens for a reason? Do you think that there is glory in death? Do you think Toran will be very pleased with you if you die for his glory? Do you think that is what I seek, Sir? To fight and to die? Like the rest of them? The Leaders do the leading, but the soldiers do the dying."
He pushed his cloak back over his shoulder and pointed towards the direction were Fiorez City is. The light danced off the names engraved into each piece of his platinum half-plate. He seemed agitated, and clearly so. His voice had volume now, and the thoughtfulness is almost gone, replaced by a grim confidence.
I buried men that died to infected wounds after surviving the night of terror and onslaught of beasts and dark magics. Nobody should die alone. I had so many last wills to consider, so many prayers to be spoken. I saw so many drown in the own blood, or die from horrible injuries. Do you think somebody ordered me to do such a thing, Commander? Do you know how it is to dig graves and make sure that they do not come back from the dead, and all with great respect?
I had boys a year older or younger than me, shooting their friends with arrows while they were being dragged away by those abominations. Do you think I do not know what I fight for? Do you think I don't care at all, Commander? Half of Fiorez City is empty, limping, scared or maimed in soul and body, not to speak of all the orphans this war created. Do you think anything of this I find joyous or tolerable, Commander?! Do you think I did it for these metal tokens they call medals? Do you think I did all of this for Toran, for glory and whatnot?
I walk this path, because there have to be guardians. There have to be protectors. There have to be those that fight the thread long before it becomes known, and even die as unknown and unsung heroes. If I die, but four families keep their son, their father - wouldn't you rather send me than those other four?
This was a rather pointless war, since two dragons found it a jolly good sport to see who is stronger. Khul is looming, and Fiorez is in the middle of Nesar and Hilm, both wanting a piece of the cake. There will be war again, if not here, then somewhere else.
I fight, because I have a faint hope of peace. I fight, because Toran chose me to fight. I do what I do, because only I can do what is required of me. I do not need glory, I do not need fame. I need training, education, to help me with the task set before me and to be at the very best at my capabilities. I certainly don't need feasts, balls, paintings. My so called joy is that there's another conflict settled, people cared for, an objective reached. More smiles on the streets. For that, sometimes one must give up one's own smile, but the path that the Hand of Virtue walked and teaches us to walk is not an easy one. To me, it is really as simple as that. You either accept the suffering, the pain and death, or you don't. Toran cannot take the decisions away from you, it is something you have to do yourself. I could have left the order, the training program - I did not. I am, who I am. If you do not like it, Commander, I will be off in the hour. I do not have to apologize for who I am. If I do, eventually, I should leave this order, this church and this place."
Lance looked at him, his amusement mixed with concern, smiling a bit with his usual soothing nature.
"Those were hardly ten words you know? It seems by your words that you expect me try to trap you with words. Would I get threats of farewell each time I ask to know you a bit better?
I don't expect you to enjoy things like war of course. By your words I think you assume I am totally an outsider than the things a war can bring, and believe me I am not, I know well enough the toll that death can put on a man, I've even had to order the death of one of my brothers, which was not an easy choice.
I don't want you to leave, unless of course you want to do so, education comes first yes, each choice and each word that we find is part of that, and I am just trying to exercise Empathy with you. If that is uncomfortable, I am not proud enough to not apologize for the inconvenience. And that is still who I am.
There is no war with a point really, and yet they are necessary evils that we have to face, and yes the world needs guardians - if it was in my hands I won't send anyone to die, and yet it happens, no matter how much prepared we are, we all die. Its just the mortal's hope to do something significant with our life . And yes I am sure that all my brothers same as you are ready to face that death, that is inevitable. Each path its different, indeed only you can walk yours.
And yet I am kind of stuck on your words there: The Leaders do the leading, but the soldiers do the dying. That sound ironically as a truth then tell me Will. What you want to do?"
He tilted his head, all his words said with calm and patience looking at the young man with an understanding demeanor, who quietly listened and shrugged his cloak back to a much more calm position, the cloth covering his shoulders and upper arms. But his eyes never stopped studying the Commander with an observing, almost unsettling intensity after his outburst - not hostile, not shy, not demanding answers or challenging. More to discern the truth and the conviction behind Lance's words, and to put up a wall for himself.
"That is a very good question, Commander Stargazer. I do not know for certain."
His face was unmoved.
"Instead of speaking of leadership, of commanding - be the first into battle. Never demand loyalty, never think of any soldier less or more, any rank or title. First in the fight, last one out. Never demand or command anything that one would not do himself, or be able to do himself. Of course, this will not work with a normal army, with normal soldiers, and with a normal elite that leads them."
His fingertips were slowly drumming Sacrifice's pommel.
"It might also mortally offend kings, queens, the Chosen One, maybe you as well Commander."
He makes a subtle motion with his hand, as if pushing something off the table or waving smoke away, a slight frown on his forehead.
"One could also rework the strategies and the training as well as organization and command structure. I have a dream, Commander, and in my lifetime I doubt that I will see it come to pass. Quite possibly, it will horrify you, remind you of past mistakes gone into history now. Maybe I will be tried and court-martialed for it."
The perspective didn't seem to bother him too much, if at all.
"But I suppose you would rest safer if you know - or, for that matter, did not know - that there is a group of people, an order, a company trained and equipped with the best experience and craftsmanship have to offer. An order of monks who gave up even their old names, lives, to form the first and last line against what terrors and evils lurk there. Who make sure that conflicts are quenched long before they erupt, and if they erupt, can put them to end. Trained in mind, soul and body, they could be the guardians, a new breed of warriors. How would one create such a force? How would one organize their faith, teach them, keep them disciplined? But even if they are without a name, maybe without a face, would you not call them guardians still? I can almost taste the illusion in these dreams. It would be best if we speak not of such things again, as they are most likely nothing more than the ramblings of a confused, young mind."
He smiled slightly and self-ironic.
"I need more experiences before I can talk more properly about these things. What I dare to say, however, is that the way war is fought by those that follow Toran, be that Paladins or more regular forces, can and must be improved. It should, in my opinion, even be rethought if the Conduct of Virtue in its teachings does not make us unable to wage war effectively. Honorable combat is quite diametrical to the fact that war is about doing as much damage to the enemy as possible, and that wars are not won in honorable duels but in how many men and women are slaughtered, how many towns and farmland burnt. If something is worth doing, like waging a war against evil, then it is worth doing it properly. I do doubt that we have the elite troops able to close whatever gate to whatever dimension, pit, or Toran knows what the enemy has.
It was Steel's mercenary group who delivered a fatal blow, doing the right thing in the right time - not to say that they did our task, Commander. Only my opinion, so no need to take it seriously."
He frowned a bit.
"In regards to what you mentioned in the beginning, Commander - Beacon Bael was quite sincere in what he said. The Commander of the Shining Hand was quite sincere in what he said, and so was Captain Jillian and the Chosen One. I doubt that I fit into certain circles. Too much of those calculated smiles, calculated agitation, calculated provocation - even if it is done intuitively and for a good purpose. Too much attention is spend to the question "Who are you?". I am certainly that I am nobody's brother in Toran's order. I could be anybody. Maybe I am too quiet, too passive as they claim. Maybe there is no person you could get to know, Commander. No member of the family, if you want, or some estranged cousin who keeps to himself."
Again that motion with his hand.
"We are an order with a cause and a creed. It is just that our language lacks the words to describe the bond that connects each member of the order. Coming to think of it, calling you Brother-Commander Lance has a nice ring to it, Sir. And calling the Chosen One Sister-Commander Daniella..."
His cheeks subtly twitched.
"I might try it to address others in such a manner, one day, to keep them at their toes and test them and how they stand to the whole family thing. Humility, too. And nothing leads quicker astray than to blindly put one's loyalty and faith into somebody."
This time he smiled honestly. It is an much too old smile in a young face.
"I would like to put all this "Who are you" thing aside, if I may, Commander, and focus on what I can do, here, now, and in the future."
Lance smiled knowingly once he received the answer he expected, then again retaking his usual calm tone, he replied:
"We may do as you say then and put it away for the time being, as with each one path that question its and can only be answered by you only with Toran as your guide and his example of course.
I am not horrified at the thought of different points of views either William I consider myself quite patient and open minded, but one should think twice before putting doubt on what the conducts offer, maybe it was just a misunderstanding on the understanding since those conducts its what make us different from our enemies, what trust can a guardian or a protector do if suddenly he decides to act against this virtues "for the greater good"
Words have power, I've learned that in all the time I've had in this life, so before planning and acting one should know where one is standing and what one wants. Take this not as a lecture or an order, Take it just as an advice of someone who appreciates you.
As for what will you do.. and the future, its hard to really know without knowing where to start, I do think that the first of it will be to take that rest and to greet the knowledge that this war had brought upon as was the plan.
I am glad to hear such open words and such, and also can tell you that somehow its contradictory, Don't ask anything that you won't do yourself, that is totally a motto worth living with. As for offending people, I'd be careful on that, cause Toran orders us to do the right thing but that doesn't make us fools. Empathy its as you know one of the conducts, and one should try to see where the other person is coming from before acting somehow as that.
Again this is an advice.. somehow a philosophical rambling of someone who had more than one lesson on pride, even if i never had myself considered as someone prideful," Lance's said, his smile soft and sincere.
"As for the future then.. Its that a question on what to do? or would you like to chat about what that future holds for you? As always I'd be willing to give advice when needed and if desired."
He looked at him, leaning over the desk, placing his hand over the diary William just gave him.
"The future, then."
He set his jaw straight and a small frown formed on his forehead.
"I am not looking for a career, nor any position like yours Commander. I want to train my skills, and I will do so. I doubt that I will be able to best the best warrior in the world, or that I could debate the most cunning speaker there is. Nor will I be able to master teachings and blessings known to clerics. But neither of that does mean that I cannot push myself further than others can. I am just another follower on the path of Toran. But there are people I would like to speak and learn with, places I want to visit, alliances I want to forge. If that is possible, only time can tell. There is a lot of work to be done."
"So the future its to work hard to achieve a goal, that its not for sure that is achievable? Just working hard? ... In any case William and take this in the very strict intent of the question: How can I help you to get there?"
"Teach me what you know and learned. Tell me about strategy, history and the experienced past. Get me in touch with the people you know and value." William said quite directly. "I appreciate the offer, Commander. In return, what can I do for you? I can't stop an army on my own just yet, not do I have the credentials and experiences for delicate political work - nothing that could not be learned and achieved, I suppose. Four eyes see more than two - any special missions you need done? Something looked into and reports written? As a new, fresh face around I will have some disadvantages, but also advantages."
He smiled a bit.
"I appreciate the offer, Commander."
Lance looked at him directly as well.
"It has been my intent to teach you and show you all those things since day one on the program William. I can try to help yes, but without knowing what is what you are looking for its hard for sending and connect you with the appropriate people, and this is an advancement of sorts, so we'll see where this goes and how the learning go. The only thing we can do is try isn't it?" His tone softened a bit.
"For now rest for the days you need, and by rest I mean rest, recover your energy and help your body be ready so it won't fail you by the time its needed. We'll see then once the dust settles a bit. As for the opportunity , you have nothing to thank me, I do it gladly and without expecting any reward or consent, just if any the respect a teacher deserves.
I'll let you know if something is needed, for now the squads are formed and they are on the way towards putting the rests of the horde away. And again I'd be quite interested in read this diary and the report of the drills and the training."
William nodded once with a sincere expression and saluted the Commander.
"I best see to that tent then. Sir."
It was good to be out of that pavilion, very good. He could breath free out here, felt somewhat more comfortable. Alone with his thoughts. And of course, he had to build the tent by himself, and nobody told him where the mess tent was. He washed his clothes and cleaned his kit. Camp duties. Went for a run. Tried to sleep.
That's how it all started, maybe. The whole episode with the training. Coming back home. All of it. He cleaned the ankh with holy water, rested it beside his futon close to his blade. Sleep wouldn't come for a long time, the moon shining through the blinds of his window, painting silver stripes into the nearly completely empty room. Llast has had troubles with accommodation, nowadays, most things were moved to the Citadel in Huanjing, so William got his own small, tiny room, little more than a broom closet really. It was enough - for him anyway.
When he finally found sleep, he had another of those dreams. He dreamed of the Citadel and cherry trees, it's petals black and crumbling to ash between his fingers, of burned and scorched ruins, pillaged, plundered. Despite his helmet the air tasted like lightning, brittle grass breaking under his heavy black boots. So many memories, one name for each cobblestone, and those once proud statues defiled. He walked towards the gate, burst open and smashed to splinters. The sun rose blood red over an eerie silence, no crows on this field of slaughter and death. When he stood in the gate's archway, staring over the torn and tortured lands outside, he saw them coming, creatures from the deepest pits, the blackest nights, once alive, now corrupted, mutated beyond recognition, snarling with their many mouths and snouts. He remembered being young and full of hope once, but now, only death remained. Maybe this was his punishment -- to walk the battlefields eternally, fight of corruption and send them back to their pits or graves. The Black Blade had even now, in the radiance of dawn, a dull and dark gleam to it, as if it was meant to cut the fabric of light itself in half, should need be. He fought the creatures, and killed them, only to have the corruption vanish and see that he had cut down those he loved while they slowly turned to ash, drifting away in a cold and bitter breeze that swept over the lands. Above the horizon he saw the shape of dragons fighting, and he slowly began to walk down the long path ahead of him, temptations left and right, ghostly faces of people he once knew, or once knew him pleading with him to take of the armor, and put down the sword. By now, he knew his enemies, by now, he did not fear and see clearly through their disguises. There no longer was a point in trying to save anything or anybody, no chance of redemption. The only option was a quick, merciful death to his enemies, or he would die himself.
After those dreams, he usually woke with his heart beating fast and covered in cold sweat, as if he had dreamed something else, something more gruesome. He got out of bed early, stretched, did push-ups and other morning training in the first hours after dawn. Simple breakfast, then back to study and training until noon. Temple and community duties, training with other members of the church who had the time to train with him in all sorts of combat. He slept even less than before, but enough to seldom feel physically exhausted. Mentally, his resolve was tested, and occasionally, he had to stop studying and learning to gain a clear mind again. Meditation. Training. More studying, more work, more meditation. But it didn't help against the dreaming. Not at all. He began to take it as a bad omen, for something that was wrong with him, or with something that was coming. Maybe it was another of those things Lance and Daniella called "tests".
He wrote a piece called "Arid", about deserted, old places after war. Philosophy and meditation of the desert. Refusal of militarism and why it all was about conflict. But he couldn't refute himself, that in his heart, he was a warrior, a killer. That it estranged him from the rest of those around him. He gave up on it, on the essays on loneliness and all that. Nobody would understand how one could be lonely if you had the Great Leader at your side. Those pages were sheets filled with inked misery, annoyance and irritation. With Raelyn leaving and John passing away, something had cracked, a seal that had kept him from being himself. Now, that he had nobody close to care about but himself, was tired of the discussions and all that. He wanted to see something done, preferably something realistic. It was good to put one's energy, creativity and skill towards a constructive goal and achieve something that was new or had been lost before. The kind of tasks he did he found to be necessary but dull, something to excuse the long hours of studying, training, crafting.
He bagan to sketch the armor he dreamt of, and wrote down his thoughts on life and death and other philosophical things. He did so with great care and methodology, but it did not ease his mind.
"There was nothing I could do..."
He did not blame her. He tried to hold her and comfort her, but only half his heart was in it, the rest had evaporated. Jhon was gone now, as well, and he was unable to grief any more. There was nothing left in him, no tear, nothing. Killed himself, left no letter of good-bye.
No arms to hold him.
Nothing.
Buried already, letter stuck somewhere.
Now, there was nothing he could lose anymore but his life, and that was already forfeit. No house, no love, no brother. Bad dreams. He felt that he should rebell and yell, scream and tear things apart, but he couldn't. Tiptiptip. The feather's pointy edge against the table. Things to consider. No heritage, nothing.
He was a nobody. He had shaved his head and beard, and that was it. Nothing to write. Nobody to see.
Once, I have been human. Now I am just a paladin. When did he feel good the last time, and was that important at all?
And at night, the nightmares weren't getting better. Once the mask has been made, he dented it -- took his sword and took his anger to work on the mask, before setting the small ankh of gold into the forehead, smoothing the edges, engraving the prayers into the inside of the mask. The he wrapped it into linen cloth, and hid it among the few possessions he had brought with him. Bags and pouches, and that cloak he purchased together with a pair of boots from Görm. New set of jewelry, too. This whole world was hooked on magic to get things done, it was kind of an arms race. Something else that troubled him, if he followed the train of thought.
"There was nothing I could do..."
He growled and kicked the Beacon he was sparring with in the knee, using the moment he staggered to push his leg behind his, then pulling his leg forward abruptly, taking the Beacon's heel with him. His opponent landed rather ungracefully on his back, and William was on him, ignoring the longsword, closing the distance and pushing the Beacon down, his lower arm pressing his throat down.
"I give up."
William glared at him, then jumped to his feet and out of the reach of the Beacon, picking up his blade and helping him back to his feet before handing the blade back.
"Well fought. You good for another round?"
The Beacon cleared his throat and croaked: "Yeah, let's try that again."
Meditation in the evening at shrine outside Llast. All that remained were memories, a plant in his room, those in the garden of his now sold childhood home, those in the garden of the Blairs. He felt betrayed and knew he betrayed himself because he wanted to be like they wanted him to be, which he was not. If anything, he was himself.