Regret and Acceptance (Grayson/Aaron)

[Grayson]

OoC: This takes place in the "Not Picking a Side" thread at the camp, after everyone else is asleep.

IC: Grayson sat up with a groan. Hie bedroll lay bundled up on the ground and his hair was disheveled from tossing and turning, trying desperately to sleep. He had finally had it and stood up, combing his hair into shape. A long sigh escaped his lips as he sluggishly stepped towards the dimming fire in the center of the camp. The archer looked around to see if anyone else was up. To his disappointment, no one seemed to be stirring. Another sigh, this time out of annoyance rather than frustration. He was hoping someone would have been up to talk to, but it seemed he wasn't so lucky that night.

Grayson sat down in front of the fire, legs pulled up in front of him. He took a stick from the ground and poked the fire, causing bright cinders to fly into the air.

"Well isn't this a fun night?" Grayson hissed sarcastically.

[Aaron Winsett]

Aaron heard a stirring on the other side of the fire from where he lay, and turned to see Grayson sitting at the fire. The mage almost rolled back over, but he knew he'd only be rolling back over to a night of fitful half-sleep. That wouldn't be restful enough to restore him.

The mage wondered if the young archer was up from the battle they'd had earlier. He'd been uncommonly quiet since that time. Aaron had been heavily exhausted since then, but now he'd gotten back just enough energy to be able think about what he'd done. Today felt like something new had happened. He'd killed before, and it was always something that he regretted, but.... Well, today he'd felt like he was acting as judge, jury, and executioner. It was disconcerting to think that he might be losing his sensitivity to the sanctity of life.... But, these bandits. They would have just gone on to pillage and raid more victims, wouldn't they? Isn't it good that they've been eliminated?

Aaron stood up and moved over to the fire, sitting across from Grayson.

"Couldn't sleep either, hmm?"

[Grayson]

Grayson hadn't noticed Aaron sit down at the fire before he spoke. He nearly jumped at the mage's voice. The startled archer looked around the newly stoked flames to see his compatriot sitting down opposite him. Wonderful. If there was one person he didn't want to talk to that night, it was Aaron. Even if he had somewhat come to terms with the mage's actions, he still felt that what he did in the earlier battle was wrong.

However, he didn't want to seem impolite. With a sigh, he responded.

"Indeed. There's been a lot of things weighing heavily on my mind." Grayson said, gaze concentrated on the flames.

[Aaron Winsett]

It was Aaron's turn to stare into the fire. He did so often, whether he was troubled or just wanted to think. The mage's thoughts continued reliving the day. He'd killed again. He'd done so because they represented a threat. He'd even warned them, and offered a chance to flee once things had started to turn to his groups advantage.... They hadn't left.

Could he have done something differently to have prevented the out comes of the day? The mage didn't think so. He couldn't affect their choices, and meeting an attacker with mercy.... Aaron didn't think he was strong enough to keep his allies and himself safe while refusing to strike out at his enemies.

The mage spoke softly, his voice carrying in the same way as the ashes on the wind.

"This was your first battle, wasn't it." It was more a statement than a question. The mage remembered hearing Grayson's story at Rayl's ranch, in Pherae.

[Grayson]

Grayson was once again snapped from his concentration on the campfire. He looked up at Aaron's eyes and then down at the ground.

"That's right. I..." he began to say, but then Grayson realized he didn't know what to say. The way he felt about the whole situation had changed several times that night. He went from being excited and in the moment in the battle to unsure about if he could continue and not being very keen on Aaron to coming to terms with the fact that these things happen, but still not feeling completely at ease with all of it. It was a lot to think over.

"I've been thinking. I know, 'try not to do that', right?" Grayson attempted to joke, but then sighed and continued, 'It's just... I don't know if I can handle all of... this." grayson put his head between his knees and looked down at the ground, orange light flickering against it, making shadows behind the pebbles of differing lengths. He took a nervous breath and began to speak, voice not breaking a whisper.

"How could you... how could you kill like that? So easily? Just a snap of your fingers and she was a charred husk of what she used to be." his voice started to increase in volume and he looked back up at Aaron, a look of sadness painted on his face, "I'm sure she had friends and a family. I know she was a bandit, but she was a person, too. Please tell me you feel as bad about it as I do about that rider I killed!" Grayson's voice sounded almost panicked near the end. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest with every beat waiting for Aaron to answer.

[Aaron Winsett]

Aaron sighed as the fire popped and crackled to Grayson's questions. It felt like such a long time ago when he'd first had to use his talents for battle. Back then, he'd been far less capable than he was now. Aaron realized that that was part of the reason he'd struggled so much more again today. In the past, he'd been capable enough, but now he had the power to ignite a life into a fiery pyre of death. As Grayson had said... with the snap of his fingers. So much raw power put a great deal more responsibility on the wielder. It was every combat sage's burden to bear.

"Grayson... I regret what happened today...." The green-haired magic user stopped to think over his answer again before continuing. "... But I don't know that it would have turned out any differently if I could go back."

Aaron went back to staring at the fire, resting his hands on his knees as he spoke. "I don't know how you'll learn to deal with battle, but it's the thinking that saves my mind from crumbling under guilt. I have to remember that I didn't ask to be attacked, nor did I go out and hunt those groups down. We both know what brought them to us...."

Grayson was a smart young man. He'd find some way to deal with what he'd done. Aaron listened to himself, snorting inwardly at the fact that he thought of Grayson as young. The green-haired sage couldn't be more than one or two years older than Grayson at most, but right then, he felt as if he'd been around the world's block a few too many times.

"I know they probably had families, but so do we..." Aaron shook his head, unsure about how he was left feeling about today.

[Grayson]

Grayson laid on the ground, facing the starless sky. It's normally dazzling display that resembled a backlit canvas poked full of holes was covered by a thick layer of clouds that night. He sighed again. There was a lot of sighing that night. It was what the archer did when he was deep in thought, usually. Aaron was right and he knew it, but he didn't want to accept it. Earlier that night, he had come to the conclusion that what transpired in the battle was necessary. Though it didn't mean that he was alright with it.

"I know." he said after a long pause, "I know that... that this kind of thing is part of this kind of life. But I don't necessarily enjoy it. In fact, as I'm sure you're aware, I find it to be barbaric despite the fact that it's something I will have to do over and over for a very long time." The more Grayson spoke, the more difficult it was to express himself through words. His outlook on the whole situation was more complex than he knew how to explain. Thankfully, he was able to change the subject slightly.

"You know, this isn't the first time I've killed." Grayson sat up and looked at Aaron again, "My parents... they were never very supportive during my childhood. My father was too busy with his work and my mother... well he was busy having fun with other men. I ran away one night and they didn't find me for a week. While I was out on the streets, I was attacked by a stray dog. It's eyes were a horrifying yellow and this... foam came from it's mouth." Grayson's bearthing and speaking pace both quickened as he continued, "I did what I could to run away, but it finally cornered me. I could only find a splintered plank of wood to defend myself with. It leapt forward to tear me apart and wound up catching it's own throat on the splintered end of the plank. There was so much blood. I can still hear the whimpering."

Grayson took a deep, staggering breath and continued.

"I put it out of it's misery with a large brick I found. I still think about that dog. I wonder if there was anything else I could have done. Maybe find a way to capture it and help the poor thing." another deep sigh escaped Grayson's mouth, "Sometimes I wish I could be more like Sabin. He was ploughing through those bandits without a care in the world. I'm willing to bet he doesn't regret those men and women's deaths at all."

[Aaron Winsett]

Aaron just listened to Grayson, unsure of what else there was to do. The mage had been through much the same things that Grayson had, and had handled it by telling himself that he had a responsibility to live. That belief may not be helpful to everyone though.

The story of the rabid dog was a good illustration of the situation. While it may be possible to help the creature in some way, it wasn't without risk to the helpful person who decided to risk it. Similarly, the bandits were not beyond turning from their ways, but it was difficult to persuade them to change their habits while they were busy trying to gut you.

"Do you think Sabin's ways are better?" Grayson was probably right. Something the green-haired magic user had always had at his disposal was empathy. He had it to the degree that he could see all sides of an argument, even the bandit's side. In an amusing way, this had caused him to never be able to decide whether it was a gift or a curse: He saw it from both angles.

Aaron didn't judge ill of Sabin for being so ready to kill those raiders, though some would. The mage saw the actions of today as an unfortunate but necessary act, unless they'd wished to be robbed of their money and supplies. Furthermore, once that was done, what was to keep the brigands from taking their lives, as well?

[Grayson]

"Better?" Grayson thought for a moment. He didn't really feel that Sabin's ways were better, but... "Well not really. His ways aren't so much better as they are... easier. I suppose. I'm sure he's having no trouble sleeping. While I'm here, unable to even bother keeping watch because this blasted thing keeps nagging at my conscience..."

The archer shifted on the ground, turning to look at the opening at the edge of the clearing they set camp that led to a cliff. Another heavy sigh and Grayson spoke again.

"I know I'll have to learn to live with this. But it won't be easy for me."

[Aaron Winsett]

Aaron smiled, despite the subject matter. Grayson had just stated two of the mage's beliefs. The ones that the green-haired magic user used to check on himself after every battle. Aaron picked up a stick which had escaped from their small camp fire, and started breaking it into smaller pieces.

"I think you'll be alright, Grayson. You might not want to believe it, but time will help dull this edge." The mage paused for a moment, tossing the pieces of the stick into the fire when he was done with them.

"You value life all life, and you choose to continue holding that value.... Even when you see that it hurts to do so." The mage's eyes grew sad, revealing a sense of weariness that had been hidden for a long time, as he stared into the flames.

"In this day and age, everyone who has the strength to fight for the oppressed is needed. Bandits roam the countryside freely, because forces which would normally restrain them have been called away by business between the nations.... If it's not Bern's rebellion, it's Etruria's Prophet...." Visions of what he'd seen from Ostia, of the smoking hole in the ground where the greatest city in Lycia had stood, danced in the tongues of flame before the mage. It was luck, or some other bit of good fortune that Etruria hadn't rampaged straight through the entirety of Lycia. The truth was that Ostia had been their shield. With it gone, Etruria had a clear shot at the interior of the Lycian League.

[Grayson]

"I figured as much. We have a lot on our hands, don't we?" Grayson responded earnestly, "I would like above all else to protect those the bandits terrorize. However, I don't know if can do it as well as others may expect of me. I mean, I'm not exactly the bold heroic type." Grayson flexed an arm to find that, though it had grown since leaving Pherae, it was still quite thin. It was actually a good thing that working his bow didn't pack on too much bulk or else he wouldn't have been able to illustrate his point so well.

"But I thank you for helping me. You've really been nothing but kind to me since we met at that breakfast table. It may be a bit bold of me, but I think you're the first friend I've made. Ever." Grayson's gaze turned to his horse who was dozing next to the tree he was tied to, "Well... besides Mr. Cobblepot, of course."

[Aaron Winsett]

Aaron yawned for a moment, and stretched. He was tired, and his eyes felt like he'd been reading off of a word filled page, or screen for hours.

"Hmm.... Well Grayson, I hope I'm only the first of many." The green-haired sage looked towards where the white horse was tied for a brief moment before looking back.

"Glad I could help you, but as for helping against bandits, you seemed alright today. You going to be able to ride that horse? And... You know him?" It was a little odd for something of that sort to happen.... but then, Aaron felt like odd things circled around him sometimes, just waiting for a chance to become real.

[Grayson]

"Indeed. He was a horse that belonged to my family when I was a boy." Grayson leaned back and looked at his snoozing horse, "He was really my first friend, if that makes any sense."

The archer turned his head to look at Aaron again.

"If a boy making friends with a horse makes any sense, that is. We were a real team back then. I was quite the skilled rider and we almost got into the competitive riding scene, but he was taken."

Grayson's visage turned downward in a frown. This wasn't exactly a happy memory for him.

"You see, my family is known for being skilled horsemen. And we have a great deal of well-bred and trained steeds." The archer's voice lowered a bit and slowed as he continued, "And... there was this group of ruffians that liked to steal the horses of the wealthy. It was logical. The wealthy get nice things, and they want nice things, so why not take them? Well, other than it being immoral and wrong, but that just doesn't stop some people, you know?"

Grayson sighed and continued.

"Anyway, these ruffians took some of our horses and Mr. Cobblepot was among them. I didn't see him again until today. It's quite serendipitous, isn't it?"

[Aaron Winsett]

Aaron hadn't known about Grayson's family. He hadn't been involved in the horseracing aspect of the lands, and hadn't paid much attention to it, honestly. Too many myths and stories to go over. Too much history. And yet, the horse races were their own sort of history. Perhaps he'd discuss it more in the future.

Serendipitous.... The mage honestly didn't know that word. Probably not something most would expect of the green haired scholar, as people always seemed to expect him to know everything. That didn't mean that he had to let them know, though.

"It does seem rather fortunate that you ran into him. What are the chances?" The magic user expected them to be pretty low, all told.

"I mean, stumbling onto your old racing horse, who was taken from your family's estate... while in Bern?" Even the mage's "aaronarchy" which seemed to follow him around seemed like it would be strained by such an occurrence.... Or perhaps not. Still, it may have gotten help from some other force this time.

OoC: lol see entry on Tirionism in Night's Dictionary. This is silly.

[Grayson]

Grayson took a moment to consider how odd that really was. Aaron had a point. It was a surprisingly random coincidence. As if it were divine intervention or his life was really the subject of some horrible writer's story.

"I can see what you mean..." Grayson said while throwing some more wood on the fire, "It is a funny happenstance. I would question whether or not it's actually Mr. Cobblepot, but there's no mistaking. That is my horse."

The archer took a contented sigh, "And now that I have him back, I may learn to do something that I saw in a circus act years ago. These archers were galloping in circles shooting targets. Some standing on their saddles while doing it." Grayson suddenly got more energetic at the thought, "Mr. Cobblepot and I make such a great team, I figured it would be the perfect way for me to actually be useful to you guys! I mean, just imagine! Maybe I could even incorporate a melee weapon into it one day. Like a lance! Yeah! That would be great!"