William's journal and letters

[Aphel]

To: Priestess Raelyn Blair

Dear Lyn

I can only hope that you are at good health and spirits when this letter reaches you. I apologize for not writing you sooner and I am not quite sure if I can explain to you the reasons of both writing this letter or why I did not write it sooner. My mind is a bit hazed and it's quite late, and maybe I should write you of my travels, of what happened since the last time we met. It is just that I don't feel like doing that would be fascinating or comforting or entertaining to you at all. Writing the others is always such a difficult task, and yet I know you will not think bad of me when I keep it short.
I miss you, Lyn. I worry for you, even – I know that Toran will protect you and when I pray to him I feel, I can feel in my meditation that he does protect you, as he does all the others as well. But still I miss you, and I need to talk to you possibly soon when you have time. You can send me a letter if need be (I hope you don't have to write them with cold hands and your shield as a small desk – there is only so much you can ask of people when you travel) and they usually reach me eventually.

Be the light when there is none,
~Will



To: Paladin Marion MacMurray

Dear Mari

How are you doing? Where are you? Do you need help?

Be the light,
~Will


He looked up from the parchments. Wind howled around the barn and made the candle flicker with anxiety. It wasn't that cold, but this wasn't exactly a good place to close the eyes - that was one thing traveling taught him.
Putting the letters into his satchel, he got up slowly and prepared his bedroll. A few exercises to stretch and train, then loosen his muscles. Reading some pages of the parchment collection about history, seemingly copied with unsteady hand from a much more elaborate book and thus riddled with abbreviations and spelling mistakes. It was almost tranquil.

[Aphel]

He looked down at the parchment, the signs and strange symbols written on them. He looked up and at Hlint, knowing that the symbols would make sense once more if he looked down.
Lyn.
He closed his eyes for a moment just to hear himself breathe and the sound of the city around him. If he would open his eyes again, the letter would still be there. Would still be on smooth parchment between his fingers.
Lyn.
He felt a shiver in his spine, the same he felt when she hugged him as tears had flown down his face. The same he felt, the very same when they had talked at the lake. He pressed his eyelids firmly shut and took a deep breath before opening them again to read the letter once more.
Taking another deep breath, folding the letter and put it back into his pack.
Training cleared his head and when the ground under his feet disappeared and he fell, fell deep down, he grinned. No fear this time, nothing. The waterfall was roaring and as the cold water embraced him, his heart was dancing with both joy, beholding what he was doing and feeling and what he should do. This was an entirely new feeling – another piece of the giant mosaic had been unveiled, and now that he took a step back he only could smile and try to understand. For the first time since long, he didn't have a bad dream.

[Aphel]

Taking care of the child was not so bad at all, William had to admit. Jhon and Mara had been more difficult, but then again, he had been younger back then as well.
He walked up and down near the windows again, humming a lullaby to calm Richard down again. Jhon was milling about in the garden again and William did not want to think of all the work that kept accumulating on his task list. He had promised Jillian to take care of her son while she did a few training sessions – or just relaxed. A mother now. He was even a bit curious how it would change her. Them, even. And himself.
He smiled as he suddenly remembered Lyn holding the child. And this person called Andrew too.
The little one changed so much, would change the world around him a bit as children do.
I mostly worry about you because you're defenseless against all these politics and feuds and such.
He continued to hum and sing and walk up and down until the child was finally asleep. He put him back in the cradle and returned to his desk, doing all the quiet but necessary paper work. Should it get boring, he could continue to work on the toys he was making for Richard.
And then there was Lyn, beautiful and adorable Lyn. The date with her. The attempts to understand her, and being silly with her to make her smile.
“Just be who you are” she had said.
He looked outside and wondered who he was in the first place, and why. It felt like something was at his fingertips, just a few parchment-widths from his reach. It had been there always, waiting for him to realize it -
Jhon tiptoed in, looking freshly washed, a selfmade flute dangling on a chord from his neck together with the small bronze ankh.
He grinned and sneaked to his brother, presenting him a few corn or wheat seeds in his palm. They looked different from what Will had seen growing on the fields, and he guessed that they were the reason Jhon ran back and forth in the garden.
“Need Ma's parchments.” he whispered. William nodded, folded a small bag from parchment, put the seeds in it and searched through the shelves for the box with the parchments. He found it and gave it to Jhon, who opened it slowly like some sort of relic and looked into it before closing it again. Then he sat down next to the window and looked out quietly.

William watched him for a moment before he returned to his work, wishing Lyn would be here.

[Aphel]

He smiled and wrapped his cloak around her, her slow breath hovering over his arms. It was strange – she just fell asleep when they were still sitting there, talking. Working in the temple took its toll, and he held her in his arms. Mist flooded down from the mountains slowly, crawled over tree tops and finally first wisps flowed over the sea. They had talked for long and now cold crept closer step by step. For a brief moment he closed his eyes, exploring the strange feeling in his heart again.

One day, they might sit like this somewhere, near a campfire. She, so tired from tending to the wounded and dying that she fell asleep right away after he wrapped his arms around her. Him, sore from a day of fighting and watching men die, the battle still undecided. And a feeling of darkness crept closer, made all light vanish. And he held her in the eerie silence of the camp, surrounded by the sound of shields and spears and chainmail, horses and campfires and the slow rhythm of walking guards.

Maybe. It was not unlikely for this to come true, and while it was impossible to look into the future, one could look into the past to see what might happen.
William looked down at her, remembered her lips brushing his, remembered the look in her eyes and the sweet sound of her voice. He could just use the blanket they sat on to cover them both, flip a fishing boat over as a shelter against the wind, cuddle up to her and sleep as well.
He smiled, looking around carefully. No, this was not the time. The cold was not so bad, and it should be easy to make a fire as everything was there. He would let her sleep for a bit, then wake her and return with her to Center.
He wished he wore his armor now and looked over the sea. And

there

it

was.

The missing puzzle piece.
William smiled softly at his Lady and carefully stroke a strand of hair out of her face. She didn't notice but his heart embraced the bittersweet happiness and newfound realization. How should he put it in words to explain it to her? For a brief moment he saw her in the approaching mist, a beautiful woman with a child in her arms, holding it close to her as it was all he had left her – the child, the memories and two ankhs around her neck. A possibility, a very likely one, but just one among many. A common one, the history of his father.
All the suffering and apin he would be or was responsible for, and so much that told him he was just another figure in a vast, ever-repeating drama; and he could not escape from the stage. It even felt so ridiculous to think in such metaphors. A fund. He would set up some kind of assurance for himself and her as well – maybe he should talk with Sir Lance and Lady Daniella.
For now, he would just hold her.

You tasted and felt her lips and
you saw her heart in her eyes, radiating her kindness and
love
you heard her voice, the sound of her laughter
the sound of her worry
Will you be able to be
who you are and want to be
Her champion
keeping her safe in dangerous times
Her lover
warping your arms around her when she cries because of you
Her husband
giving up everything for her?

William smiled and tried to wake her with soft kisses, not feeling anything paticular wrong with it. Just this feeling of being responsible, of looking out for her and comforting her. This as well meant following The Hand of Virtue and William felt that he was stepping into a new role, a new task was assigned to him. He needed to talk with Jillian, Lance, Daniella, Kian and Lemont, but all in due time. For now, she was sleeping in his arms, and they should get back to civilization before they got into trouble out here. He brought his lips close to her ear and whispered softly to slowly wake her up.
“Wake up, sweet.”

This day would be in his heart for a long time, giving him strength for the challenges to come. A young couple under the ankh, a new light in the black.

[Aphel]

To William Leox

From Lance Stargazer’s quill and Pen

Greetings Willaim, worry not about the ink, and I am glad to hear of your brother, Hilm as I said is open if any of you want to help there, I won’t say its easier and of course the life on the kingdom is about discipline as well as self teachings. Yet I am sure this was If not known expected.

Judgment and teaching differs from the intent, I do agree that evaluations have to come eventually, yet the judgment given with the intent of teaching its what teaching its about, a teacher indeed has to judge the progress in order to see the next step in the lessons that is the natural path of developing so the harder lessons are able to be passed one has to determine the basics, but that is not what I intent by judgment, When I said I did not judge you I was not referring to lessons, I was referring to the goals of each person , you in this case. I’ve felt a strong sense of importance on what the other think on you, which if its not bad it should not let us stop seeing our own potential ( granted this may be read as a judgment , yet the intent its to give an advice ). I won’t be even closer to assume I understand Toran’s reasons, he is like a good lord to us, and we do his will, yes he judges us because we are the closer to him, and after all we like our name to be in good stand isn’t it? . I see that you see this on your letter so please don’t take this as a lecture either, I’ve gladly seen how you are growing and learning which fills my heart with joy. I won’t expand on the Shinning hand part, and its something we may discuss in private if you would like, If not I am sure that either Jillian would be happy to answer your questions, and I am sure that if not Jillian, Hector would be more than happy to if not share his teachings see how you are doing out there and catch up. If want to share your thoughts thru other parchment or the next time we met I would be with ears and eyes open.

All life is sacred yes , I agree with you and pretty much all you said in the paragraph about undead is easier, there is no such thing as an easy battle, each fight, war and battle has its own difficulties, hence each of them is a test to our will and mettle , determination and faith, to enjoy a kill is something that should not be done, one should feed on the feeling of justice yet taking a life is not something I look favorably when it can be avoided. And yet one has to be cautious on that a slight mistake doesn’t cost the life of those we want to protect, so you got that right. I may be misreading but along the letter it sounds challenging as if I was trying to say the contrary to what you wrote, which was not my intent, you asked the why they would have said that undead were easier, as I was explaining, each call is different I disagree that a battle should be called easier than another, there are a lots of factors and what I expressed was just my personal opinion based on my experiences and my beliefs. With this said I was trying to give you another perspective of the situation. Healing someone for mercy is indeed something that I believe must be done, yet its all in the balance William, I may have misread this part or miss your intent, if I did I extend an apology.

To answer your question comes with the next part of your letter. How can you prove you are alive? Cause you can make a difference, Our lives are bound to touch more lives, we are here to make this world a better place, but in order to help the others one should start with oneself, feelings are not a weakness, If we forget to feel, then how do you know anymore why do you do things, we act due love for the world, if one doesn’t show emotion, one becomes detached and is easily driven away of the important things of life, The life of service is not about confort, I would be lying to say so, but one finds a warm feeling to help the rest of the world, one should know that the test and the hardships of the way we going to face, It’s the common perception of we Toranites have not sense of humor, that everyone sees us as people who does’t have fun or enjoy the life, that is not true, we do sacrifice, we have the burden of responsibility , but we are alive as well, what is worth the life if you don’t enjoy it, People misunderstand this as having excesses on the life, and that leads to laziness, inactivity and death. I see the intent you are saying I admit the same as you I thought once that feelings were a weakness, I was wrong, I was just afraid to feel and in that I closed myself to the others in hopes to not be hurt, yet words won’t do nothing on this, its something that one should learn on its own, as I saw sadly with my own son Argos on his early life before he found the path back to us. If you don’t want people to cry for you, then live a life of villainy its an old Tilmarian saying, Its just that its not our choice William what is the path ahead of us, yet we can’t avoid to do what we do You are a good man and you have been called and chose upon service, not by an order or a church but by HIM himself, you are chosen for a reason, there is something in your soul that pulls you that way, and you’ll be remaindered fondly by some people whom would see Toran’s help thru your deeds and you’ll bring glory to HIS name in this, we should not worry about such things. I understand that family hurts, its natural and you are grieving, yet there is life ahead, and we don’t know what the path have for us, so don’t think on death so fast when there is a lot of life yet to live.

With all this I am saying that you are grasping it yes I see it, and as you wrote the boundary inside you, you are analyzing and learning of this experiences keep up on that path and eventually you’ll understand, there must be restrain in this, and what you wrote about not feeling comes to this, Restrain should be applied in both ways, one should not be driven fully by emotions cause that will disarray in chaos, yet one should learn to keep emotions in check in order to not forget what is the imoirtant thing in our lives again it applies tor restrain in both ways, and hence the balance of it.

I understand fully regarding Milady Daniella, its still a bit hard to me as well. Chaynce Balduumur was more than just his fiancé, he was my brother in arms , someone I loved so deeply and which departure still hurts indeed, we were always like two faces of the same coin, he was a good man with perhaps a bit too much initiative, it pains me that the truth is , that the things said of a dead person always sounds better than the ones said to one alive, he and I had several differences in life, he was careless and a bit undisciplined, made more jokes on me that what I would like to remember and I would give my left arm for having a minute to talk to him still. His dreams and mine would never be the same, but we coincided and I work to see a world where he would have liked to see. So I understand about not having the right words. Small candles I like that.

We may speak of Hilm military soon, till then get ready and prepare yourself, help those what you can and be Toran’s light for those who needs to see that in your path.

Sir Lance Stargazer



My dearest lady

I finally found some time for writing, and it is hard for me to find words of apology or explanation. I miss you dearly, and all that work I had to do for the Church, for the people in Hlint, in the house and with my training – often I was so tired that I found no strength to write you a letter. Strange dreams and even stranger feelings haunt me and take away what little power I still have left. Life and love are such delicate flowers, so frail and beautiful, and I fear to lose you: to lose your eyes, your smile and your laughter and the talks near the fireplace. It hurts me to think about it that we might break apart, that I have to leave you so you will be happy. My ears and my heart is heavy with the stories of those that came back from the war, the fate of those lucky few. It becomes harder every day I think about what they told me, and what I remember: and there is nobody that I feel close enough to talk to. Is it wrong to tell you that your ribbon is as much solace and anchor as my ankh: I remember you so clearly sometimes that it tears me apart. I don't want to fight it, it hurts and drains the strength from my bones – yet I love you so much. I love you so: I think about you in the morning, running my rounds through dew-covered meadows, the sun rising above the horizon and I smile thinking about you; I remember your kindness when I listen to the ramblings of those who are not only wounded bodily but also mentally or I need to listen to another tragedy of the commons that I cannot resolve, not wipe away just yet. All that is dragging me down, but I must not yield or surrender.
Sometimes, when I read in the parchments with lectures and experiences and insights of women and men older and wiser than me, the letters blur before my eyes and I look up, beholding a great darkness in the distance.  I realize that you are somewhere out there without me, without my shoulder that you can lean against, and it hurts. I need to end this letter now, my wrists and my mind are failing me and I need to conserve some of my strength for tomorrow. I miss you greatly and pray that The Great Leader keeps you save and leads you back into my arms soon.

Be His Light, my Lady
Always yours,
~William


My Dearest Treasure and Beloved William,

Your letter could not come to me at a more perfect time. I feel blessed and comforted so much by your sweet thoughts. When I feel as though the tears are going to fall, I remember the feeling of your arms wrapped around me, and I know that it is for you, for our Great Leader, and your wisdom that I must continue to do his work.

I remember the day we first met when you said that your Grandfather told you, you must trust Toran. I remember when we sat in the house, and spoke about our faith, and that you changed my view with a simple question. Shouldn't you shine for others? I remember that so clearly. I remember how you said that because you have his light in your heart even if you might not always understand your direction and sometimes doubts creep into our lives, they are soon pushed away.

We share our light in him together William. We are never apart so long as we are doing his will. It may not seem the same as your arms wrapped around me, looking into my eyes, but it is a deeper connection we share, to be his light, to be brothers, and to be the best of friends. I love you so dearly and no amount of distance will change how I feel.

Please let his light shine into your heart and comfort you, for as long as we believe we will not fail each other, or him. Please always find Toran's peace inside your heart, and know that I share with you the same devotion to serve him and that as soon as we are able, we will be with each other again.

Please do not let the darkness take you away from me. Please shine brightly for Toran and know that His Light is always there to embrace us in his love.

Always His Light,
Always Your Lady
Raelyn
?


He read the letters twice and put them aside, taking a sip from the mug with what they called tea. He needed to work on his report. A humble fire in the iron stove, keeping the cold at least somewhat out. For now. He looked into the calming light and remembered the shape and color of Lyn's  face when they sat near the fire in the evening because neither of them could sleep. How much he wanted her to be here now. What would she think of the notes, small scribbled observations on tiny pages of cheap parchment? And yet, the hardest part of his work was still to be done.

-Before-
The cold air was burning in his lungs as he made his rounds trough town. So much to do, and so little time. His thoughts went back to the report. There were so many things to be taken into account. So many tragic stories, dramas, tales of ignorance and pain. “I have to write again what others have written before me, a never ending litany; heard but not understood -”
Dawn swallowed the misty hills outside, and the land began to fade into twilight, then darkness. Writing that report would do nothing. There was no actual gain from it, only the hope that somebody would read it. Nothing more. He remembered the days he had spent with his grandpa, a strange ancient past now: the smell of drying ink, parchments and dusty oak shelves. “Everybody could write a report that nobody ever will read and that's most useful at collecting dust in some shelf. Take the travel reports of many great explorers as a guideline. Never write “we”, always write about how you see things. Present your thoughts on the given facts, but present the facts as clear and simple as you can.”


He stood up, slowly, and walked to the window, the mug in his hand. There was not much to see. Clouds covered the nightsky. The city was asleep, but his work was not done yet. So he sat back down after a while, dipped the quill into the inkwell and began to write. He didn't mind the slight cold breeze crawling in, it kept his head free and focused yet slightly out of touch with reality surrounding the parchment he was writing on. No report for now. Another observation.


I cannot say that I am not disappointed that Lady Commander Stormhaven did not allow me to join her and the others in her endeavor to bridge the gap between old enemies. I think I might have needed the training with the Siphe Troops, and sadly now I can't even find out more about them and their training. It is my own fault, I should not have slipped, yet I did. As with Beacon Stuart back in the day, I feel some sort of wall between me and those that I wish to learn from, a feeling of being misunderstood or looked down upon for my choice of methodology. Now I want to show them. Ha. As if that would be wise or even relevant. It's just some whisper in the back of my head, the famous “For every medal awarded [...]” - sometimes, I think, I bother too much with the things that Sir Stargazer called important. Names? Family? There is no more Leox family but for Jhon and me, no name to taint as neither my father nor my grandfather had important influence, the kind of influence that would have pushed me onto a pedestal of expectations and suchlike. People still expect enough of me. I should soon return to what I have called home for so long now and look how they are doing.

My report project is not going well. The observations pile up slowly, but I lack proper facts. I wrote a few letters to find out more, asking for information, but I doubt I will get a lot of things into my hands and might it be for political reasons only. It might even be better to write a polite yet personal request to the Followers of Aragen – and I hope I do not end up in a theological debate. I will see how it goes and do such a move should time require it. I doubt grandfather had some influences, but there's another issue I need to resolve. A pebble at a time moves a desert in the end. I miss Lyn very much and wonder what she is doing right now. She might not approve of my endeavors either, nor with the training schedule that begins to form in my head.

[Aphel]

How much can my body and my spirit take?
How much can I do before I shut down?
How can I motivate myself and others to go on in hard times?
How far can I push myself and still remain effective?

-Physical training goals
Ability to swim, march and run a longer distance than now, with and without gear
Escape and evasion training
Survival training

-Metal training
Survival training
Resisting Interrogation and Torture
Philosophy

-Social training
Etiquette
Dancing
Rhetoric
Law
General Knowledge

[Aphel]

He sat down and took a sip from his canteen. It was day five, and it went good so far. He had helped in the mines, helped with injuries and with patrolling the countryside. The strain on his body was not too high, and the physical training every morning and evening could soon be raised by a notch, keeping the “One-Tenth”-Rule in mind. Tomorrow, he needed to increase the weight of his pack. He also was out of parchments to read, and so he decided to instead sit down and write tonight after reviewing parts of his journal. So he turned the page, dipped the quill into his slowly emptying inkwell and began to write.


In memory of Grandfather: An Essay on Leadership

What makes a leader, a ruler, a hero? What does it mean to be a leader? What does leadership mean? What does it encompass? Do you know the answer?
My grandfather asked me these questions on a rainy afternoon. I could not answer them then to a point that my grandfather found acceptable, and so he gave me a stack of parchments and told me to read them. My grandfather never asked me the questions again, and it was not until my training that I was to face such questions again. What makes a leader? What does it mean to be a leader? What is leadership?

Does being a leader mean to be in power? Some say a leader without power or influence appears to be not a leader at all, a king without a kingdom is no king at all – but there is a difference between being a leader and being a ruler. A king without a kingdom is no longer a ruler, but he still can be a leader. While it is true that most leaders are rulers or do have influence in one way or another, that does not mean that a ruler is also a leader. Take an officer of any army for example. He might be well trained and versed in the art of war, a scholar of tactics and strategy, even excellent in organizing supplies and such task. But if he knows nothing about leadership he will not be able to motivate his troops to act on the good plan. He might also misunderstand what it means to be a leader and with his bad leadership diminish the capability of his troops. Being merciless and without understanding for his troops, he might even be an officer that gets his tasks done, yet he fails to be  a leader. Leadership is not how to motivate other people, nor is it about how to set goals and how to reach them. These are all matters of organization and governance and while not unassociated with leadership, they are not the same.

Leadership is not an ability gifted at birth or divine selection to a lucky few; this theory  might be favored by some yet it cannot withstand a closer examination. Social status or belief do add little to leadership and while they can help one to develop such things, they are not granted by them. This is something that history teaches again and again, and even during a person's life one will understand this lesson well.
Leadership comes from observation, from reflection: might it be conscious or unaware, most people that develop great leadership abilities do so because of their preoccupation with observing themselves and others and the interaction of these two. Most people that say after a short hesitation that they are unsuited for a leading position are most likely better suited for the position than those that step up immediately – but even this criteria has it's flaws. Good leadership abilities are hard to find and hard to learn. For one, because it requires more than just observation and practice, it also requires inner strength and conviction, humility and valor. As I understand it, the Conducts of Virtue contain many if not all lessons one must learn and understand and observe and absorb to improve one's leadership abilities, but they are of course not the only broader and paved path to it. Understanding the Conducts might be what is required for a Servant of The Great Leader, yet it does not entitle her or him to gain a great understanding of leadership just like that. Leadership requires more than valor, sacrifice, humility, conviction, empathy and restriction. In a sense, it is always one step further. To lead means to do always one step more in one sense or another, and I see it as a folly to believe that this step must be ahead. To say so easily makes one thinking of leading in a race, in a game or competition – these are things that lead away from leadership and into the twisted and treacherous realms of ruling and politics. Often, the strongest leadership is of spiritual, intellectual nature, and only from this true great worldly leadership can be born. Leadership does not mean to inspire people and ask them if they have truly done enough, Leadership is to inspire people by asking oneself if one has worked enough for the right thing. A craftsman that works with a smile on his lips until nightfall to finish the work on the broken mill while all others already went home, knowing that he might inspire other to help him shows as much leadership as a general of history. If the craftsman is humble and a well-known, good-willed person, others will come out and help him. A general surely can demand obedience from his troops, order and intimidate him, and he even might still be a general remembered by history as a good general, a hero – but he is not a good leader. Intimidation is the first sign of bad leadership under most if not all circumstances, it might be an useful tool for ruling but it is the begin of the end of leadership. Why should anybody aspire to be and act and follow and help a person that intimidated her or him? There is no leadership in this, and from what I understand such intimidating, demanding behavior weakens the soft flower that growing leadership is. If somebody tended to her or his leadership ability sufficiently, she or he will be able to do things short of miracles: to achieve the unachievable together with others and begin to build from there to even greater and more positive things. Such is the nature of good leadership.


He looked up and stretched his feet. This was nowhere near finished, but he felt tired and strained. Pausing for a moment, he twisted the quill in his hand and studied the shape of it and tried to imagine what such a simple thing truly meant, what it implied and how everybody appeared to take certain actually amazing and marvelous things for granted. William smiled, gently pushed these thoughts away – it was a subject for another time, if he would find that time anytime soon – and thought by thought returned to his essay while dipping the quill into the inkwell.


Leadership does not expand into infinity, it is always local, restricted even to a certain amount of people. If it is overextended, it will become inspiration – certainly a trait and aspect of leadership, but not leadership itself to its full extent. A general, a king with good leadership abilities will inspire a large crowd of people; yet it is up to those that are actually encompassed by the generals or kings leadership to extend their leadership to the next group of people and so on; and while in these most common examples the structure is strictly hierarchical, the exact structure is utterly irrelevant to the success of it all; as already pointed out, organization is related but different from leadership. A good leadership ability does encompass the ability to reshape the organizational structure, it does encompass to look for those suited to take up positions withing the leadership and resolve problems that arise. Within the real world, abstract ideas and thoughts seldom can stand alone, and thus it is apparent why leadership and governance blend into one structure of thought and action. Governance is to do things right, and leadership is to do the right thing. Leadership is hard, prone to fail due to cynicism and alike issues; yet leadership is identified by accomplishing as impossible perceived goals with a group of people and continue to build in a positive manner. Governance, in the best case, just works for now and maybe tomorrow. Leadership, good leadership, will reshape what is know of the world and what is thought possible. It might be forgotten, washed into oblivion by the flow of time, but it will be as eternal as mortals can possibly be. In a sense, it is the only thing that truly will stay eternal as long somebody can reflect about eternity.

[Aphel]

It was like we have never parted ways for too long. I miss her already. How can I be without her?

[Aphel]

Brought the last bag of soil to Jhon for his experiments with the plants.  He was very quiet and just hugged me briefly before continuing with is work. I guess he is trying to grow some basic grains that are much more resilient against whatever is torturing the land, but I am not sure. Toran might have a plan for him too. It is hard to part. Lyn said she would take care of him, and if Toran wishes so, we will be very close still when I return. It hurts me so to part from her, and I need to focus on what is ahead. Toran provides and keeps our hearts save together, no matter what happens.

[Aphel]

Rite of Preparation

To be Spoken with clear, loud and unison voices by unit and a chosen that leads the rite. Putting on armor and prayer preparation in unison.


Chosen: This is my armor. It guards my body from the blow of the enemies of His Light.
 
All: As our faith in you guards our souls from the touch and taint of your enemies.

With devotion I shall keep it in good shape.

By training, reading and prayer we shall keep our minds and bodies strong.

No taint should fall upon it, and as I, it will always be ready.

Do not idle.

My duty is to fight and to die. My life, Toran, I devote to you.

It shall be so.


This is my sword. It shall cut the veil of taint, treachery and darkness.

We are the edge of His might.

I shall never let it dull or draw it in anger, hatred or fear.

We are the heralds of His light.  

My sword is part of my body, and I will strike true and with precision. My blade, Toran, I devote to you.

It shall be so.


As I commit my body to battle, I will guard my mind and soul with your Light.

So that no taint and treachery will befall us.

From the falsehood of illusions, Toran, deliver me

Your light rips the veil!

From the touch of corruption, Toran, deliver me

Your light burns the twisted!

From the shadow of doubt, Toran, deliver me

Your light illuminates the black!


I am a paladin of Toran

The herald of his Light!

I am the edge of his will

The bane of his foes!

I stand ready to fight in his name

AND I KNOW NO FEAR!

[Aphel]

To: Priestess Raelyn Blair
From: Paladin William Leox, Fiorez City

Dear Priestess Blair, Mylady

I am missing you, and so many days went by without me writing to you. I wish I could have, but while the travel to Fiorez City was mostly uneventful I somehow could not find the time to write you. I regret not writing you now, I could have told you about what I saw and felt and witnessed during the days of travel. Maybe about the deep scars in land and people, the lingering tension of unresolved conflict and the splendor of the lands that will remember this war for a long time. May His Light inspire, warm and show them the way – that too is what I pray for. If my actions and behavior makes them a little bit safer, a little bit more kind and self-secure about the ability to shape a bit of the future with their own hands, that is more than I can hope for I think. Hard times harden the hearts of the people; and while I write you in candlelight the politics continue to entangle and obstruct our ability to express what we think must be done and what we feel. For a brief moment I think I even saw pain in the face of Lord Siphe as he told a horrid tale that I am not sure we were supposed to hear. Yet, we all, even us recruits, dined at a table with him. And while Lord Siphe and Commander Stormhaven appeared to stand the tension in the room, everybody was on her or his toes for one reason or another. The young – us! - were mostly busy with not making the wrong move and minding etiquette. There was a tight moment, as Marin might be able to tell you. Lord Siphe likes to play mind games with us, and he was testing Marin who came too late due to some confusion with the carriages if I remember correctly. The Lord yelled at him and put his blade against Marin's throat. I saw Daniella smiling when I looked at her briefly.
He's testing us, and while it is a great honor and opportunity, it is also dangerous. Not all wounds might be healed. As far as for Lord Siphe, he has my respect already. I want to learn as much from him and his military as I can, and I am quite certain that if I prove to be a student that endures, has quick reactions and good instincts as well as discipline, he would like to hand us back over to Commander Stormhaven with some sort of subtle smile that only she can see or understand. I trust Toran that he will lead us all through this. There is an odd feeling inside me, an impression that I appear unable to shake.

There is much to tell you, and I do not know how to write to you how much I miss you and pray that you are safe and at good health and not writing letters with a shaking hand from all the training during the day. Do not worry. Sometimes I think I can feel your heart beating far away, and I know that HE protects you in his light and always will. But sometimes I remember the sound of your voice, your eyes and your smile and know that wherever you are, we will see each other again in person. My heart is with you, always, as it rests with Toran and with you. We share a light, the three of us. I need to meditate about that matter, it feels complicated.

Before I close this letter: How is Jhon taking my absence? Is he alright? Should he need anything, I will pay for it with the trues I somehow managed to save up.

I miss you, Lyn, and are very grateful for the blessing Toran gave me with you. I still remember the day I left, and it stings but in a good and sad way at the same time: I know that while it hurts, we both will grow and learn The Great Leader's Teachings now for a while on our own; but there will be a day when we will be together again, and I hope we can  lean against each other than, hold each other, and I will be your protection and you will be the Hope and Warmth for me. For now, thoughts and prayers and the knowledge that Toran provides are what we have. My grandfather said that distance connects. I think he is right. It makes one reconsider and more deeply think about things. I love you. I spread my arms over the distance to you now and hold you, wherever you are, whatever you are doing. We share the same sky, the same sun and the same stars.
Forever grateful for your love,
May His Light guide you and keep you safe,
~Will

[Aphel]

To: Paladin William Leox, Fiorez City
From: Priestess Raelyn Blair, Hilm

My Dearest Champion, Guardian of my Heart

I miss you every day so much and I know what we have done, it is the right thing. We both know that while away, our hearts are still strongly tied to each other. Do not feel so bad about writing me, as the letter has taken quite some time to reach me from Fort Llast and then being forwarded to Hilm.

Yes I said Hilm, Commander StormHaven requested my presence here to give me the chance to choose my posting. At first I was unsure of why I was being summoned so far away, but orders are orders, and I will follow always the calling of Toran.

I can't tell you what it has been like here, though I am certain you know in your own training, just what it is like as well, and the wounds the war has left behind.

She gave me a choice of assignments after hearing of my interest in serving out in the field. I was surprised but also grateful, because I have felt there is more for me to do in the world. A place where I can make a difference. I have to admit that sometimes I feel more in the way, with all the focus in Fort Llast than helpful, though I have realized since coming to Hilm, that there is simply no role small, as all are vital to each other, but it allows room for rising Brothers and Sisters a place to learn and grow as well.

She gave me the choice to go to Sederra, to the shrine of Sloven, from there I would have been able to be as the contact between the Citadel and the Shrine.

While it was an amazing opportunity in itself, it felt more diplomatic, more restrictive to a point, and not a position I feel ready for yet.

She also gave me the choice to would have been to go to Tilmar, to the Telish throne, and added to the regular patrols out of the Citadel, amazing opportunities each one she gave me, still they did not feel as though Toran's calling, they did not feel like where I belonged. I could not convey that to her easily, as I think part of her still believes I chose Hilm to be closer to you.

I don't know how to convince her such is not the case, I was not driven to Hilm, because of you. I could not tell her I had actually encouraged the decision for our separate ways, but we know the truth and Toran, our callings our impressed in our hearts and there is no way to understand what is in someone's heart, not truly.

But she offered me a chance to study under the Company of the Star, to study under the battle priests, to truly see the world for what it is, to grow a deeper understanding of why it is we are needed so much.
And in that moment, I understood this is where I was needed.

I am waiting to be seen by the Commander, for my assignment, as he has been very busy. It seems Commander Stormhaven will not be my commanding officer, well not directly anyway. While I wait I have been helping where I can. It is hard William, I see the dedication and love, but also the pain in the priests faces though they are so focused they try their best not to show their emotions. I stand in amazement at their conviction, their dedication and courage. They are the chosen, protecting us, protecting you and I want to be more like them. Right now until I am officially assigned, I have been wrapping bandages up, blessing the water, and helping feed the injured.

I miss you William and I pray every moment that Toran protects all of us standing against the evil of this land that threatens to chase away the good. I feel the warmth of your arms holding me, I feel the warmth of Toran's light guiding us, and I know his strength is within us both and his light shines in our heavens.

The sudden calling to Hilm, left me little choice but to temporarily leave Jhon in the care of the Temple, but I have also sent a letter to my parents to ask them if they would take care of Jhon until we are able to return home, and any true I am able to offer, I will send home. I have not heard yet due to the great distance letters must travel, but I pray that by the time you are reading this letter, Mom and Dad will have written back and agreed.

I love you My Champion!

May The Great Leader Light your path Always
~Lyn




To: Miss and Mister Blair, Fort Llast, Kingdom of Trelania
From: Paladin William Leox, Fiorez City


Dear Miss Blair, dear Mister Blair

Raelyn just wrote me that Jhon is living with you for the time being. I do not have much time for this letter, but I will pay for his expenses. Talk to...

[Aphel]

I am not sure if Captain Stuart told me the whole truth. Maybe I will see in time, but I can't be sure of it. Questioning and judging the Chosen's action is not my responsibility. Lyn and Jhon are my responsibility – and my training, so I die with purpose on the day that Torans ordains so. HE is my judge, my witness, my strength and my resolve. I am, so others can live their life in peace. And so it shall be. Maybe they think I am a golem, a monster – it is up to them. It's good that I know now. I do not feel that their views are particularly my responsibility. I do think their behavior, especially of Beacon Bael, was not up to the standard of a Paladin of Toran, and it troubles me how undisciplined they can act at times. After my trouble with The Chosen and the Captain, I don't think it would be of any use to tell them my concerns, or my thoughts for that matter.

[Aphel]

That was good to know. I need to talk to a priestess or priest, or, if I can, to the Chosen One.

Note: Need to change part of my armor. Send the package for Jhon. Need to get my hands on some old reports.

[Aphel]

Dear Mom and Dad, dear Mara, dear Seje, dear Grandpa

It was a sunny day in Llast. Merchants left their doors and windows open to let sunshine and warmth flood into their workshops and houses. A luxurious day for all. The wainwright's apprentice was busy preparing planks outside the workshop. Children playing in the street, women washing clothes, old men chatting over the fence, greeting neighbors and guards alike with a curt nod. The smell of fresh baked bread and pie, of laundry, wood and earth.

It is a long time now since you have gone.

The cemetery was quiet and calm as it always was. The wall with the ivy and wild wine glowed brownish white. Two young priests-to-be carefully cut the vines away and scrubbed the stains they left with a brush until it was gone. Somebody had oiled the Gate recently, William noticed how easy going it was long before he expected the screech of rusting metal against rusting metal and it didn't happen.

And yet year after year, we meet again, here.
We remember the time we had together, such a beautiful, happy and busy life.

He could see the plaza from here, with the small rectangle-shaped stone walls, the places pyres were prepared and burned. No large piles of wood there, today. A priest was sweeping the plaza slowly, removing pieces of bark and smaller splinters. William picked up one of the brooms resting against the cemetery's wall and joined the old, half-bald man in silence.

And then we part again, but not really.

No words were exchanged. William watched the thin willow branches bending and rebound, pushing the dust and the dirt and the bark out of the cracks and the space between the cobblestones. Sometimes, a branch broke. He swept those away, too, with great care.
It did not take long to finish when two were doing the task of one. The old priest smiled, bowed his head in a manner that made clear where he came from Huangjin. The isle of vast stone walls, the Ankh and pinkish cherry blossoms that looked wonderful.

You stay with me in memories and dreams, in thoughts and teachings, in understanding and craftsmanship. You stay in my heart, as so many do.
In our time, we lived, seeing trouble and smaller wonders together.

He stood close to the wall. Another person walked past him, a lean, thin guy with freckles in his face, barely older than himself. A son. Maybe a father and a husband. Boots on white grave, too bright to look at now that the sun stood highest. A path of light.
Resting his hand against the cover plate, feeling the engraved letters under his fingers, he leaned forward to rest his forehead against the stone wall. Names. This whole wall was filled with Cover plates, some blank, but most had names on them. This one had the most names on it in this part of the wall. As was tradition, he had declined to offer of a sentence to be written onto the plate. More space for the names this way.
The stone was cool and smooth, a bit darker than the stone plates covering the urn alcoves. Trailing the letters with his fingertips.

A family, common miracle. We hold us, we cried and we laughed. We built and we planted, we tore down and started over. In our time, we lived and stood up for each other.
A family, common miracle.

Since you are gone, Jhon and I have cried in silence and imagined you being there, laughing, smiling, giving me a hand that somehow was denied to me for fear I might break.
I found confusion and sense, meaningful and meaningless tasks, rewarding works and waste of time.
I have found love and bittersweet tears, I have found misunderstanding and care.

He raised his head and stepped back from the wall, reached into his pocket and looked at the ankh in his hand. Fold from his letter, that piece of parchment now had a new shape. A shape that had been symbol of his family for so long. Granddad's ankh, he didn't even know where it was. Never asked. Burned away in that fire, like all the books and everything else: the wooden sword he learned to fight with, all the items, all the containers of memories. Gone.
The ankh on mother's necklace, silver, small. It had been her wedding present.

And year after year you have listened in silence, sometimes I think that if you could, you would smile and worry. And now that I put words on parchment so they might fade away in rain and wind and sun, I miss you terribly.

He fixed the parchment ankh to the wall with a ribbon cut from his cloak. Carefully touched the thread-bare, sun-bleached rest of the ribbon he left behind here last time. Rubbed it between his fingers. Strange that it was still here and hadn't been torn of by the wind or decayed in the rain until being removed by a priest. That ribbon was part of the cloak that they gave him during his ordination as a paladin. He remembered the day in the Citadel, the travel to Huangjin.

I am not sure if I get along with my new family.

I am here, he thought, because ever since Huangjin things have changed and not changed. I took control and responsibility for my own training, tried to prove myself. A strange shiver ran down his spine, and he looked up.
Nobody there.
He suddenly longed for Lyn's comforting voice and touch. Something inside him wanted to cry if she had been here. In an attempt to help him, they had scratched old scars open again and called it their care to do so. Maybe he had understood Humility, Empathy, Restraint...so horribly wrong,  did not listen close enough at all during his training, did not after -
William looked at the cover stone and crossed his arms behind his back, standing at ease by reflex as the thoughts washed over him. A heavy weight was pulling at his shoulders and at his heart.

We hurt each other, misunderstand, storm away and slam doors.
We cry, we love. And sometimes we don't know what to say. Sometimes, we don't know how to defend us.
It took years to climb that hill, but only a few painful seconds to fall. I feel betrayed.
Yes: sometimes, we hurt each other out of love.
It is not making anything better, it deepens the cut.
But you. You know me best. On days like these, I miss you most.

He decided to read the Conducts once again, with the annotations of Ortheus. If he asked politely, maybe he could get a parchment with a copy of the work. A warm breeze swept the sounds of the city into the cemetery for a brief moment, and William looked up to the gate and at the street behind it. Here he stood, humiliated, broken to some extent. He had cried in the Captain's presence. She had held him, tried to sooth his pain. He had not spoken a word ever since. Just trained, worked, read and wrote.

But our ways parted, but not completely.
That is the thing with life. Until you are dead, the cut can be deep and hurting so much that you want to die or find something new. But you can't sever thoughts, memories, dreams as long as you are alive.

But being alive was such a difficult thought and idea. Being alive means that you are dead in some sense, at least that was his view on it. They tried to prove him wrong, but what was there to prove but the fact that he wasn't mature enough: unable to express the right words at the right time that made sense and told them what he thought.
Remembering the episode with the Captain back during his training, and all his attempts to get to a better understanding of what he was actually thinking and how to express it, all the parchments with half written letters -
If you want to be a paladin of Toran, you need, first and foremost, accept your own mortality and not let yourself be fooled: life means pain, and being a paladin of the Hand of Virtue meant not only to be able to accept the pain as something that was what it was, but also to understand that it was a warning of his body. Nothing more. And the pain in the heart was just a reaction, something one could deal with by meditation. He had meditated a lot after Huangjin. He understood quite early that pain, that pain in heart and mind, was nothing but an illusion. It was similar to fear, to anger, to hate, to ignorance, to overspilling and blinding emotions and notions. Something one could, with sufficient training, simply leave behind. There was no place in his heart for fear, for anger, ignorance, intolerance and despair. He knew that his enemies would make use of these things to push him from the light of Toran, to drag him into the darkness and triumph over another failed defender of Good. Retraining emotions, restraining pain had been important and quite a central role during his training. William still remembered the hours alone with a backpack to heavy, with sore feet and cuts and slashes all over his body from the combat training he did.
And, in the end, it meant nothing. Not the reading. Not the writing. Not the meditations.

Everybody knows so much, has seen so much.
Scar tissue, so much of it. Sometimes when I pray to Toran I pray that he shows me how to care about the scar tissue.
I don't know. I just see and observe and think and try to use sandpaper to give what I find out the shape it hides.
In my heart, I am just a quiet carpenter.
They want to see me smile.
To laugh.
To grief and cry.
But I am so busy rubbing the sandpaper down on the wood until my fingers bleed.

Show us anger, show us fear, show us pain -- anything. Just show us that you are alive. It was the complete opposite of what he wanted to learn, wanted to train, wanted to achieve. The fire in his heart, the Light of Toran was not fueled by all of these things. It was fueled by love, devotion, sacrifice, discipline, mediation and ingrained and exalted restraint.
No.
The reason he was here, now, nearly crying because everything he had thought was correct and right and real -
They were either on his side, then they would understand. Or they weren't and Toran had lead them on a path so different from his, that they though he went astray. Or he or they were actually falling from the Light that illuminated the black.
A sparrow landed nearby, solitary, with rugged feathers from a bath in a puddle. It tilted its head curiously, chirped a few times and fluttered onto the burial wall to dry its feathers in the sunlight.

If I knew what man I was, I would say I am that man no more. But I don't even know if I know enough about that. I just know that I love my beautiful and kind and caring Lady Raelyn. I want to hold her, care about her. She needs somebody to be there for her, as we all do.
Love, a small miracle. And the confidence and silent strength that she gives me with her love, the confidence and silent soft light Toran let me feel are unseen. There are things I can't express, and things I can't convey. I will try.

He closed his eyes, felt a soft breeze ruffling his hair and wished it were Lyn's fingers. Sometimes, he dreamed so vividly that he would wake in the middle of the night and nearly jump out of bed because he still heard her screams. Those nightmares were seldom, tho. He wanted to get rid of them, that bastion of fear, anger, hate, ignorance, weak will and weak faith. Then again, he was only mortal, only young and not born to a strange destiny of a hero, of an ultimate warrior for Toran. He knew those were nightmares, he knew that they would fade in the morning when new trials awaited him. There was a difference between being a golem and what he wanted to be, but he was unsure if he could ever explain that to others or even reach it. Or understand it. He just knew and felt that it was different. If it was that necessary to show anger and all that other stuff to them constantly to gain their trust of being a fellow human being, he rather wanted not the be a human being at all. There was a difference between the raw emotion of anger and pain and hate and...well, all the rest. And then there was peace, love, serenity -- the things he tried to reach properly. For him, hate and anger had no place at all anywhere but for the field of battle, and then only against certain foes.  Toran's wrath, the litany channeling HIS Light to strike down HIS foes -- it was something that must not be allowed to consume one's self. Else one  zeal would lead to doing the right, but not the good thing. And Toran, so William understood it, wanted the good thing to happen. Violence was not a central teaching. It was, at best, a tool that one needed to use with great care -- so where the teachings of his mother and his granddad, at least how he remembered them. And his most recent teaching, too. In that sense, he was detached.

Year after year, we meet.
I tell you of my life and you listen. Family.
A small, common miracle formed by scar tissue and love, illuminated by His Light.
Histories, small and big, with whole ghost theaters of faces long gone. So is it that we part, one stays here, and the other goes, but we never part completely.

Do the others know? I am not certain if they know how I grief, and grieved. Does it, in the end, matter?
My old life ended with yours, a last step together.
You went that way, I this. For me, something new began.

To him, this was no trial. There was a right, a wrong, and a good way to solve every problem. It meant to go the longest, and hardest way not by principle but because that was, in essence, what doing the good thing meant to him. But now -- could he be sure that, after what happened, the longest and hardest way was the way Toran wanted him to walk? Or was he on the wrong path -- again? And how could he possibly find out?
His heart was aching, and his mind was in a state of disarray. This was no test. This was, he felt it in his gut, outright dangerous. He needed to sit down, write, write until he could no more, and then work his fingers to the bone just to redeem what he had done. Be quiet. Listen. Words were failing him. For a moment, William though he would be staring at darkness crawling nearer and nearer behind a veil of twilight.

Now that I sit here and write with failing words and fading thoughts, soothing my pain somehow, crying, feeling like falling apart at the seams again after this betrayal -- now I miss you even more.
One day, we will be united again, and you will be proud of me, but more than that, you will be glad that we are united again.
That is family. That is the one I have, the real one.
The other one is a family under Toran, same but different.

William stared at the neatly and precisely chiseled letters. Toran wants something of me, he thought. I follow HIS conducts and HIS light, and I fail or am told I don't understand. Could it be I am stuck in some kind of circle? Are we all stuck in it? It would be easy to just say all of it was a trial. But there were real tasks to be done, real problems to face. The Hand of Virtue would, no matter what, judge all of HIS follower eventually. Weren't the conducts and history teaching that it was better to do the good thing instead of the right thing? Wasn't it egoistic to prove one's worthiness in making everything a trial? That would mean one was paying more attention to the coming judgment, trying to shed a good light onto one self, instead of sharing that light with others and igniting HIS light so others could find their way through darkness and twilight? And only the latter meant leading. Leading meant giving a direction, and that was what that was, wasn't it?
And nobody appeared to be interested in that kind of questions. Only saw it as disrespectful to try to ask, understand them, seeking to find an answer to them.

It is a long time now since you have gone. And yet year after year, we meet again, here. We remember the time we had together, such a beautiful, happy and busy life.
And then we part again, but never really. And the day I die a new chapter will begin, in one endless circle.

The question was only interesting as long as one was alive. Like in a book, it followed one only in this chapter of a much longer, much more difficult work. To find an answer to that question was one of many hard tasks one had to do in this life. And even ignoring its existence was a way to deal with it. He would go to the temple, write Jillian and then read and write some more.
 
I remember and miss you.
I live the life that you no longer can, and I intend to do the things that you wanted me to: go my own way, do good, fear little, dream and build a lot.

Your loving son,
William

He carefully closed the gate behind him. The street was ahead of him, and beyond the street and the houses alongside it was the City, and beyond the City was the countryside of Trelania, and beyond that the world, and even beyond that places he only have read things about that had made very little sense. And beyond that? Who knew.

The longest way was beckoning.

[Aphel]

A small package addressed to Commander Lance Stargazer is delivered to him. It contains a small, neatly folded parchment and a worn bronze pauldron. It is scared with deep scratches and nicks, and dented in some places as well. And despite all this, the ankh that has been graved into it is still clearly visible. The pauldron has been cleaned but not polished, and some dust from the travel has settled into the corners.
  With great patience and precision, a prayer has been engraved into the pauldron most likely over the time of a few weeks.
 

 

  The letter reads:
 

  Dear Commander Lance Stargazer
 

  You taught me how to forge armor and work with metal. This is a pauldron I made for my very first own armor, and it has seen a lot of action since. Time and combat being what they are, I recently needed to replace my pauldrons. I want you to have my right swordarm pauldron. You taught me how to use my arm, mind and heart in craftsmanship, combat and life, and for that I am eternally grateful. Please keep the pauldron as a reminder of the time when we were younger, learning and training to be who we are today. A reminder of brighter, more hopeful days where today's devotion and focus roots deeply.
 

  Be HIS Light,
  ~Paladin William Leox
 

 

 

  To: Miss Gwen Blair, Fort Llast
  From: Paladin William Leox
 

  Dear Misses Blair
 

  I cannot thank you enough, and I cannot express how relieved and glad I am for your help and care. You are a true blessing, and without the kindness and care of you and your family I cannot imagine where I would be now. Thank you. You are one of the small lights that brighten the world so much more than all soldiers of light and all generals and heroes. Please, just send me a note if you need anything. I consider going home, yet it would be leaving this construction site and turn to another one.
  I wish I could tell you in elegant and proper words how thankful I am, and what your daughter means to me. Maybe I should return to her side and help her to become the great woman that is slumbering in her heart. She means very much to me, I love her in a manner that is hard to convey with words. I would like your blessing on courting her, and I hope to be the support in her life that she needs. Call it a folly of the heart, yet I do believe we all need somebody to rely, to lean on other than Toran – yet all ways lead to him, and all the love and care and devotion we give to others is just as important as hunting evil and as much favored by HIM, at least so I feel. Something in the love to Raelyn has opened my eyes and my heart to something that I find hard to describe.
I must close the letter for now, duty is calling.
 
Be the light when there is none,
~William

 

 

  To: Paladin William Leox
  From: Jhon
 

  HI WILL!
  I [strike]IS[/strike] AM LEARNING HOW TO [strike]re[/strike] WRITE! COME BACK HOME. THE LAND IS SICK.[/FONT]
  ~JhOn

[Aphel]

He watched the old parchment burn in the fireplace of the barracks.
  “'s not going well, huh?”
  William shook his head and sat down again.


To: Commander Lance Stargazer, Hilm Castle      
From: Paladin William Leox, Fiorez City  

Dear Commander Lance Stargazer      


      He mulled about his next words for a bit, which caused a chuckle from the solider that slept on the cot next to his. “'y know if yer done with it, I need some help with a letter for my love.”
  William looked at the man and nodded.


It is good to know you are still in the field. I was truly worried for a moment. It is good to know that it might just be hostile propaganda of an unknown party. We need encrypted and swift ways of communication.      


      It was something to think about. Quite a difficult topic as well, and certainly nothing he could do in his spare time.

      I am well.


      And that was correct, if one ignored a few bruises and the other signs of daily heavy work. Last time he wrote too much. Some time wasted.

I will understand in time what I am taught here. This letter is not suited to convey my thoughts on matters in regards to the Chosen One. I am a soldier doing my duty. All other matter should be discussed at a later point. I hardly think I can come to Hilm right now to visit you and Raelyn.      

Walk in the light,      
~William  


      “So, in regards to your letter...”

[Aphel]

To: Commander Lance Stargazer, Hilm Castle
  From: Paladin William Leox, Fiorez City
 

  Dear Commander Lance Stargazer
 

  It is good to know you are still in the field. I was truly worried for a moment. It is good to know that it might just be hostile propaganda of an unknown party. I hope somebody looks into it. That brings me to another problem I have attempted solving recently: encrypted and swift ways of communication. There is a craft of war, and communication and quick reaction is on of the main topics. I tried to study, but I have little time for reading. I miss my grandfather's library that I remember from my youth. Again, a reading warrior is often smiled upon. And wars are not won with warriors, one can best his enemy in the field of battle and still lose. I wanted to write, alas, I could not get enough continuous time to do so. I could boil it down to that a paladin's task can by its very nature not be a path of the sword alone: the war against evil might only be won with love, compassion, care, mercy.
  I have to, one way or another, speak to you as if you were my father – there are so little people that I can talk about some things.  
  I study my ankh every morning while praying. I hold it in my hands while meditating (on my day, my purpose and Toran) in the evening. The Chosen Ones words pushed my thought while meditating even deeper. It's true that William Leox died with his parents that day – it took him some time to realize that, and the new William Leox to grow in strength. I entrust my soul and life to Toran, I put my faith in his hands and accepted my own mortality: those that are born being to die the moment they are born. Our lifes are finite. In that sense, we are dead already, but it is our choice, the choice of our minds and hearts and souls if we just give up or go on and give our life a higher purpose. We all carry emotional scars and wounds and weight around with us – the older we get, the heavier it gets. I steel my body and instincts on the anvil of training and the fires of combat, and I forge my mind, my heart and my soul in meditation and prayer. The accusation that I am a soulless undead according to what I said or not said, did or not did, led to me looking to the Chosen One with a question. I am uncertain if she holds a grudge against me or not, yet, when I look at my ankh, it appears that the circle is not closed. I leave my love for The Chosen One, you and others unexpressed as it might be misunderstood and ridiculed. I love you how you are, I am grateful for the things you teach me, and I cannot find a way to properly express how to soothe your pains and scars. What I am is who I am. I am a paladin of Toran, and I think he wants me to love, live, teach, create, protect, be an inspiration to others, be a light in the dark. That is what I am trying and learning to do, mostly, each day anew. That is who I am. Should I feel like a heretic for thinking such? I think not. Titles aside, I love The Chosen One – not in the same manner like I love Raelyn, but similar in some aspects. I don't want to be pushed. I am no boulder that needs to be chiseled into a statue of perfection by others. I am not a nameless solider meant for anonymous sacrifice so that the strength of a fortress could be tested. Yet, by my rank as a paladin, I need to be oblivious and do what I am told by my commander and die with a smile on my face.
  For me, there is only one commander I will bow to, one leader I will kneel before: and that is HIM. For my disobedience I will be worldly punished, yet I feel that one cannot lead an army with intimidation and loud words. I am just a face in the crowd, am I? Not a brother, not a sister, not a daughter, son – with this impression I am left time and time again. And yet I love them, still. They are mortal too, they are afraid or not afraid, deep inside. They are hurt, too. I would give my life for them, but not because of the colors of my armor, not because of my rank: if I die, somebody else can life. Some other life goes on. Callous disrespect for my philosophy, my person and my life – and not because they mean it, but because they are, deep inside, hurt by realizations and scaring live events! - and I still cannot do else but love them!
  You speak of patience, Commander. I know, but I doubt that she will let me help her, talk to her. We cannot talk things over. I am afraid one day I will lose my patience with her and either walk away (invoking more accusations of cowardice) or let the warmth and light inside me turn into a anger that leashes out at her. What can I do, Commander Stargazer, you that are not my father and not my grandfather? Suck it up and move on? Can I call myself a Paladin after such thing, still? How can she tell I still love her afterward? The longer this goes on, the stronger something creeps into my mind that I do have no heart at all? Yet, if so, how can I feel so strongly? Why, if I cannot love and have no soul and are a spoiled brat that doesn't understand the Conducts and always challenges authority – how can I love life? How can I love Jhon and Marin and Hector and Cormac and Mari and you and Argos and The Chosen One and all the other living, loving, dreaming, learning, thinking beings? How could I possibly want to court Lyn?
 

  Maybe I am not fitting into the structure provided. I wish to be excellent in combat, and even more excellent in healing with words and hands, in diplomacy and in spreading hope when there is none anymore and the lines of women and men in shining armors is nothing but a foolish dream. Despite my love, there is anger and frustration at times, I am not a perfect being. I will not bow, I will not bend, I will not break under pressure to just accept something as right that I am not convinced of. I refuse to yield in some things. Call it bullheadedness and stubborn, call it what you want. I feel that this is what I am meant to do. What I am meant to be. I trust in Toran. HE will not lead me astray.
 





***

 

  To: Commander Daniella Stormhaven, Hilm Castle
  From: Paladin William Leox, Fiorez City
 

  Dear Commander Daniella Stormhaven
 

  I am sorry for what I did. I love you.
 

  ~William
 
  Inappropriate!

[Aphel]

He stood his ground and his position, shield and blade at the ready, among the other soldiers, forming a cordon two men deep. He could see shadows, vague blots of darkest darkness in the night, and the runes edged into his blade illuminated a small area around him in a faint and weak, yet determined blue-white light, casting shadows into the faces around him. The ankh on his new pauldron shimmered, and so did the ankh around his neck.
Sounds of armors and boots as the soldiers around him shifted in their positions and stances. He could hear their nervousity and, even somewhat, uncertainty, doubt, fear. The blots of shadows could, most likely, kill them swiftly and easily. William was, at some level of his mind, aware of that just like he was aware of the ground beneath his boots.


But at this particular moment, his mind was mostly blank with thought, a mere container to the light he felt radiating within, letting the knuckles become white around the hilt of his sword.


“I am HIS servant, the herald of HIS light. And if I walk in the valley of Darkness, I shall not fear for WE are what Darkness fears.”


The words spill over his lips, his voice loud, determined, focused and hot from the radiance in his head.

Push away the darkness and fear around you.

He can feel the hot light travel from deep inside to his arm and into his palm and mouth, just like on that day with Jillian long ago. But this time, the battle prayer is different, much different. One part of the light follows his words, and the bigger parts pours into the ragged blade. Sacrifice was steady and calm, its runes glowing – he would strike his enemy with the wrath of the righteousness and then fight and struggle until he died. There wasn't much thinking involved. His heart was on fire, and he could feel the love for Raelyn, for Daniella, for Mari and Marin and Cormac and Hector and Lance and Argos and for all the other men and women around him now in it, bathed in light, embraced and safe.


Light from within, and light from behind as The Chosen One got her blessed blade ready. And as quickly as it all began, it was over. They went away. For now. A cold feeling crept over his neck, and he looked outwards, away from the camp, into the night. The Radiance cascaded down his spine, and his hard and stern face was mirrored in the expression in his eyes.


So this is the enemy.


And then: This won't work. Normal soldiers don't stand a chance against such foes. And the Order is stretched thin.
 


//For documentation. Original here

[Aphel]

There was whispering among the Ninth after the death of two of them. Nesar has its ears here too. He had mentioned that to those that wanted to hear it. Of course, it might be that Siphe would just dismiss the death of two Ninth at the hands of the so called princess as a sign that they were not good enough, that was unless somebody mentioned to him that the princess could do what she wanted because of her bodyguards. And those were not of the Ninth, nor of the Garra at all.
 Politics. Siphe can't do anything against her without opening another front, and killing her entourage and take her as a hostage would be just as much as a declaration of war.
  Who invited the snake here anyway? And did the general really insult the dragon and threatened to kill him himself? Hilm was weak, and Nesar was strong. Again. Hm.
  He said at the table that he left men behind on command once. Nesar would have do him the same, most likely. Hopefully, the Chosen One reminds him to that, or he thinks about it himself. If I can talk to him, I would like to – then again, I'd make it only worse, possibly.
  He tried to sleep, then. Alerted. Maybe the princess liked to send somebody to kill a few Toranites at night. Hadn't the infiltrator trying to prepare something on the new chapel's ground been from Nesar?
 So they might be corrupted.
  And sleep did not come easy this time.
 We need to protect the Hilm princess from dagger and poison and training accident.