Completed [The Stone Garden] Food for Thought (Alistair)

[Sybel]

17th Day, Fall 512 AV

Nursing a severe hangover was no small task, especially given Syliras’ bustling nature. The murmuring crowds sent a roaring pain behind Sybel’s left eye and all interaction with the sun was grueling at best. It had driven her far away from the volume and into the serenity of the Stone Garden. To what end she wasn’t sure, but curling up and wishing herself into non-existence was quite appealing at that moment. She’d scout out a bench in some remote corner of the garden and pray to Ovek for some luck. The previous night had been responsible – a wild night of debauchery at the Stallion. A Drykas with a boisterous laugh challenged her to a drinking contest. Normally she would have declined such a challenge, however she’d already been plastered to begin with. Needless to say, the end was catastrophic. Her tolerance was overwhelming but even she couldn’t out drink a sober, three hundred pound man. The early morning had been hellish, but the retching had passed and Sybel began to look on the bright side come afternoon. As she made her way down the neatly paved path, she made no effort to conceal her affliction. She walked with one palm shielding her left eye, the other squinting into the distance. It was an amusing sight to behold. Swaggering could be the only descriptor for her walk. Vaguely she wondered if she looked like a pirate. As soon as that occurred to her, she guffawed and then immediately winced as pain shot through the side of her head. There was a vague memory from the night before of swearing off alcohol for good. That too would have made her laugh if it hadn’t been so agonizing. At long last she seemed to find a bench in a shady area, under the canopy of a gorgeous willow tree. The lush over-hang was kelly green in contrast to the swirling gold and red hues of autumn. It was the last remnant of summer, holding on to its very last breath. With that final thought, Sybel reclined on her new divan and sighed into semi-unconsciousness. For how long she dozed, she couldn’t say. Lights danced behind her eyelids from the rays of the sun that flickered through the tree’s swaying branches. There was red and gold, just like the scenery and even some green and blue. It was all very relaxing. The throbbing in her head took a vacation from its torment. It would have lasted too, if a voice didn’t softly insert herself into her fading mind. The abrupt interjection made her nearly fall off her perch in surprise. Suddenly she sprang up to a sitting position, her eye still covered with one hand, her hair wild. It must have been a very interesting picture. “Can I help you?” She grimaced into the light.

[Alistair Fordren]

It was not uncommon for Alistair to take a walk through the Stone Garden. He had often visited this place with his father back in the day, and being here allowed him to easily reminisce in the memories of days long past. But he was alone now, off to make his own name in the world. Maybe one day, his own name would be etched within these stones.

Alistair took his time, as he often did, observing each and every stone as he went by them. Not a single one did he consider to be any less amazing than the others. He had enjoyed reading through the history of the Syliran Knights as a child, and as he grew older that interest had not faded a bit. To him, these stones were another part of that history. A history that should not be forgotten.

He had not even noticed the woman, at first. He was so distracted by the beauty of the garden that when he first noticed her, it was something of a surprise. He likely would have just went on his way, but once she sat up and spoke it startled him. In fact, it was surprising enough that he took a small step back. Unfortunately, he was klutzy enough to trip and fall right onto his backside. It was a rather comical, if pitiful, display on his part.

"Uh.. um, I'm sorry, miss." He said quickly, attempting to stand with as much dignity as possible. "I didn't mean to startle you." He quickly looked around him, as if attempting to find some sort of excuse for his presence. "Haha, be careful of this root, see?" He pointed out a root of the nearby willow tree, poking up out of the ground beside him just enough to be visible. "Wouldn't want you to trip like I did!"

A normal person would probably find it difficult to trip over such a thing, in all honesty.

[Sybel]

"Uh.. um, I'm sorry, miss." The voice replied meekly. Her blurred vision slowly came back into focus. The clumsy blob that had just fallen over suddenly became a sheepish young man. Trying to avoid embarrassing him further, she gave him a reassuring smile. "I didn't mean to startle you." With her one good eye she looked him over. The boy couldn’t be older than nineteen – maybe even younger than that. Scraping up the remnants of her dignity, she sat up straight. “It’s fine, really…” She responded, simultaneously smoothing her wild locks and wincing as she moved the hand shielding her eye. "Haha, be careful of this root, see?" It was adorable, seeing him trying to save face. She must have been the one to startle him, judging by his reaction. Well, unless he was really that accident-prone. He didn’t seem particularly sure-footed by the way he stood. “I will be careful of it, if I ever find the will to move again.” Blearily she squinted at him. “Do yourself a favor and never drink. It’s bad for your eyesight.” She said sardonically. Normally it would be then that Sybel would have gone back to napping, dead to the world. However, this boy who stumbled upon her seemed sad. It was from the way he hung his head. From his wounded looking mouth. His whole demeanor screamed melancholy, and if there was anything Sybel lived for other than adventure, it was the opportunity to make others laugh. Her expression altered to concern. “Hey, wait. You okay, kid?” She broached the subject with caution. “Something is bothering you, I can tell,” she explained, “and for the record I am very good at cheering people up. It’s a talent. You should talk to me.” Without waiting for his response even, she patted the spot next to her, beckoning him to sit.

[Alistair Fordren]

He shrugged at her comment about drinking. "Right, I'll keep that in mind." It seemed this response of his was due more to him not knowing exactly how to reply to her than anything else. In all honesty he had never even sipped alcohol before anyways, and the thought had not even crossed his mind. "Sorry for bothering you, I'll give you some room to, err.. rest." He said, turning to move away but not getting far before her voice called out to him again.

"Huh?" Was all that he managed when she asked if he was alright. Really, he didn't expect someone to even care how he felt. Syliras was, unfortunately, a get over it or get lost sort of city. He didn't expect anyone or anything to feel sorry for him. Nor was he exactly looking for anyone to do such a thing. So when this mysterious woman who he had accidentally awakened just a moment before suddenly asked him if he was doing okay, he found himself unable to do much but stand there, staring back with a confused look.

For a short while, his lower body remained turned in the direction facing away, while his face remained looking at her. After a few seconds he would blink two or three times, and then cautiously relax his tense form. "Well, that's very kind of you, miss. But I would certainly not want to trouble you with my own problems. You seem to have your own troubles to take care of." He finally said, referencing her apparent headache.

He did glance down at the empty spot next to her, though, as if he had considered it. Maybe talking to someone would actually do him some good. Allow him to straighten out his thoughts. She seemed foreign. He remembered reading of a group of people that lived out in the desert. Benshira they were called? Was she a Benshira maybe? If so, she probably had a lot of experience with things outside the city. His sheltered lifestyle meant he had never ventured outside the city gates before. It might be worth talking to this woman just to ask her what the outside was like.

If she insisted again, he would take her offer, but not before giving his name. "Well, if you insist," he would say, "my name is Alistair. It's nice to meet you." He would give a warm smile with his greeting, apparently intending to be as polite as possible.

[Sybel]

”Well, that's very kind of you, miss. But I would certainly not want to trouble you with my own problems. You seem to have your own troubles to take care of.” She waved it off. “I’ve been hung-over before.” She replied dismissively. “It’s always awful but certainly nothing new.” There was hesitation in the kid, but Sybel could sense that he wanted to talk. She knew what it was like to be lonely. His first statement was truer than he realized – she did have her own troubles, but they were nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. The advantage to hailing from the desert was always living in tents. That way, no matter how financially desperate she was, she’d never feel homeless so long as she had one. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.” With that, she flashed him another smile. Though the situation was awkward and the encounter totally random, Sybel felt at ease. The garden was quiet and beautiful. The sky was a perfect twilight, the spectrums of night and day folding lovingly into one another. Syna and Leth were embracing as they traded places on the horizon. Atmospherically it was perfect. Plus, a good conversation was sorely needed for both parties involved. So why not? "Well, if you insist," he responded, interrupting her thoughts. "My name is Alistair. It's nice to meet you." Sybel stood and extended one hand to shake his. “My name is Sybel, from the tents of Alijah.” She announced with a flourish. “Nice to meet you as well.” That would certainly be a curveball. If he’d had any misconceptions on her national origin, they’d be erased after that introduction. Then again, she was sort of a dead-ringer for Benshira. Her blue eyes distinguished her from the solemn Chaktawe and unless she’d been hiding her other arms somewhere, she certainly was not Eypharian. That left only one option for a desert-dweller and she was it. After the handshake, she resumed her seat. “So Alistair,” she began. “What’s on your mind? You’re very serious for someone your age.”

[Alistair Fordren]

"Very well, Sybel." He responded, shaking her hand and then sitting down next to her. He wasn't quite sure what from the tents of Alijah meant, exactly, but he hoped dearly it was just the name of her father or some other sort of patriarch/leader and that he wouldn't offend her in any way by not commenting on it specifically. He had read in his books that sometimes different cultures had different ways of addressing each other, and he really didn't want to offend someone that had been so nice to him so far.

Oh dear, he really hoped that he was right when he assumed she was Benshiran. It certainly sounded like it, but he hadn't studied other cultures extensively enough to know for sure. Hopefully the topic of conversation wouldn't sway in a manner that required him to address her heritage or anything. That could be awkward. For now, he would just answer her questions and see where it went from there. He didn't really have any friends, after all. He had met a few children growing up, but unfortunately never managed to really get close to them. He was used to addressing adults, though. Maybe this would be a similar manner. He was pretty sure she was at least a few years older than he was, anyway. But his father had also told him often, "never address a woman's age." Yeah, this was going to be awkward.

It would probably be pretty obvious to her how uncomfortable he was. Perhaps she would be more used to guys his age hitting on her or otherwise appearing confident and forward, but in this case he was more like a little kid than anything else. When she asked him about what was on his mind, and commented at how serious he was, he looked at her as if confused before clearing his throat. Someone your age. Well, there we go! She clearly saw him as younger, so he didn't have to be concerned about her being offended if he respected her as someone who was older than him! Haha! This would be far easier than he thought! After clearing his throat, he seemed much more confident.

"Serious? I suppose. I have a lot to consider, after all." He looked away for a moment, glancing at the nearby willow tree. Just a quick filler so he wouldn't have to look at her silently while thinking about what to say. After a quick moment, though, he turned back and ensured eye contact like one with proper manners typically would. "I mean, the world is a scary place, I guess. I don't really have a lot of money, and I live by myself. If I can't find a way to make money, where will I live, right? I wanted to join the Syliran Knights ever since I was a child, but I've been sickly ever since I was born. They would never let someone like me in." He looked down at himself with a frown for just a moment, before his head shot back up as if hoping she didn't notice.

"But! It's not all bad. I'll figure out something. Um, if you don't mind me asking..." Definitely trying to change the focus of the conversation away from himself. He didn't want her to find him annoying, after all! "What is it like outside the city? Is it as dangerous as they say?" Well, his excitement towards asking her that was pretty obvious. Hopefully she really was someone who was foreign to the city as he had thought, otherwise he was about to look pretty stupid.

[Sybel]

"Very well, Sybel." Such formality. It must have been a symptom of his unease, she reflected. Was she so intimidating? That required a bit of introspection. Looking him over and then thinking of how she must appear, it suddenly became obvious. Sybel was a foreign woman, subtly accented and incredibly direct. Just because the young man was a city dweller in no way meant he was secular. At second glance he was obviously sheltered – perhaps by his parents or guardians. He looked the type to be more at ease with a book than another person. For a little while he was still speculating on how much he wanted to reveal. That much was written in his expression. It was endearing how Alistair had no guile. His thoughts exposed themselves, to the extent that Sybel could reasonably guess. "Serious? I suppose. I have a lot to consider, after all." Oh, that was evident. The discomfort of that particular announcement made his eyes flit away. In turn, her answering smile was filled with warmth. She wished he could be at ease. "I mean, the world is a scary place, I guess.” His stare politely returned. “I don't really have a lot of money, and I live by myself. If I can't find a way to make money, where will I live, right? I wanted to join the Syliran Knights ever since I was a child, but I've been sickly ever since I was born. They would never let someone like me in." Alistair’s eyes dropped and his gentle mouth turned down. His plight revealed him, exposed him. There was shame there, in his bourbon colored gaze. He reviled himself. She sighed. Tenderly, she placed one hand on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t think that way about yourself.” She gave him a penetrating look. “We all have our challenges in life. Take me for example…” The information almost stuck in her throat. Very rarely did she confide in anyone. “I was born a woman. In Yahebah, the culture can be very conservative. I wasn’t meant to ever pick up a sword. To be what I am…” Her expression became distant, lost in memories far removed. “It is hard to be one thing physically and another in your heart. I know what that’s like.” Her smile returned along with the hope that throughout her life had strengthened her spine. “Don’t let it deny you. Rely on the strength of what lies within you to overcome what lies without.” There was a special connection between the two of them. Alistair needed a friend and Sybel was glad to be one. It lifted her spirits and more remarkably, her headache. "But! It's not all bad. I'll figure out something. Um, if you don't mind me asking..." Her eyebrows arched with good-humor. “Hm?” "What is it like outside the city? Is it as dangerous as they say?" His excitement was palpable. It was cute! He was like the younger sibling she’d never had, almost. It was such a nice feeling to be looked up to. “Well, it’s beautiful first and foremost. But yes, it can be dangerous. There are many races of men that detest the city. So you’d almost never see them here… Their intentions can be questionable at best. I try to stay away from them. They can be more deadly than the sometime fearsome creatures that roam the countryside.” She didn’t want to intimidate him. “But always it’s very beautiful.” The more he prompted her to talk, the easier the words came. It’d been too long since she’d last conversed at length. “So!” Suddenly she exclaimed, removing her hand. “Enough about me. Tell me about your hobbies! I bet you like books.” Her eyes narrowed shrewdly, her mouth bemused.

[Alistair Fordren]

Her words clearly had an effect on him. It was comforting, having someone to actually talk to for once. After his father had passed on, he kept everything bottled up. With no other friends or family members to turn to, he had relied on himself and himself alone to make it through. It was somewhat awkward, talking to someone about these things, but deep down he knew that he had wanted someone to talk to all along.

He wasn't quite sure what she meant about her own culture, though. To be what she is? Too many thoughts were going through his head right now. He had a lot of questions for her, but he was afraid of asking too many questions. He instead listened politely as she told him about the outside. His father had told him about the outside world before. Monsters. Bandits. Other cities. He never had been given the chance to experience them first hand, though.

This woman was amazing! She must have lived such an exciting life! He held on to every word like a young boy with a candy bar. He wanted to know more. Honestly, he was slightly disappointed when she asked him about his hobbies. Well, he didn't want to be rude.

"Books? Well, yes, actually. I've read a lot of books. When I was younger, I was bed-ridden a lot of the time. I didn't have much else to do. Sometimes I read about the history of the Knights, or I read novels. I wasn't strong enough to really train with any weapons most of the time, but I read a lot about them. My father said a lot of the stories I read were really unrealistic, though. I don't have any combat experience, so I guess I wouldn't know." His mood was different now, somehow. He seemed much more comfortable with her. Apparently what she had said really had an impact. Truth be told, he had really needed to hear something like that.

"He was killed by a bandit, though. My father." He said after a few seconds of pause. Although, he had not stated the passing of his father in the same self-pitying mood that he had carried just moments before. He paused for another moment, looking away from her and shrugging. "That's just how it is, I guess. I heard that the leader got him. And it was a really close fight. I guess, that my father always fought honorably. But the bandit leader guy didn't. It was the only reason he won, supposedly. I don't know, that's what they told me. The other Knights, I mean." He looked back to her again. He was obviously hurt by the loss of his father, but his demeanor was still different from before. He seemed stronger somehow.

"I have his sword, still. But it's worn out quite a bit. I plan on getting it repaired one day so I can use it in my father's place. And then, I will find the group of bandits whose leader slew my father, and I will enact justice upon them. To my knowledge, the guy got away, so he's still out there somewhere. I don't think they ever caught him. They wouldn't tell me his name, though. So, I'm going to join the Knights and find out who it was." He smiled confidently at her. Despite all his shyness, and despite all of the worries he had told her about, the young man seemed like a responsible, mature adult for that moment.

If he managed to keep that air of confidence all of the time, he could probably make a decent leader one day.

[Sybel]

"Books? Well, yes, actually. I've read a lot of books. When I was younger, I was bed-ridden a lot of the time. I didn't have much else to do. Sometimes I read about the history of the Knights, or I read novels. I wasn't strong enough to really train with any weapons most of the time, but I read a lot about them. My father said a lot of the stories I read were really unrealistic, though. I don't have any combat experience, so I guess I wouldn't know." “Knew it,” she responded with a timid grin. “About the books, I mean. A lot of those stories can be unrealistic, but that comes with the territory. The history books are usually written by the victors, so certain details tend to be embellished.” She chuckled. The pieces were falling into place. His wasn’t necessarily an original story, but he had a certain determination that set him apart. Most people in his position would use their seeming disability as a weakness. A lot of them became panhandlers. That wouldn’t happen to this kid. Everyone needed reassurances from time to time and if hers could help him stay focused, then she would have accomplished something in her brief stay in Syliras. That was a heartening thought, especially in lieu of recent failures. There came a look in his eyes as if he was on the precipice of a greater confession. "He was killed by a bandit, though. My father." That caught Sybel off-guard. There was the motive for his ambition - to exact revenge in the name of honor. Most people didn’t show their hand so quickly, but he was young, innocent and completely incapable of lying. He was putty in her hands. That was sobering and suddenly she felt very responsible. Her expression slowly altered to concern. "That's just how it is, I guess.” His tone was resigned. “I heard that the leader got him. And it was a really close fight. I guess, that my father always fought honorably. But the bandit leader guy didn't. It was the only reason he won, supposedly. I don't know, that's what they told me. The other Knights, I mean." She was practically waiting for his declaration of vengeance. Plucking the thought right from her mind, he continued: "I have his sword, still. But it's worn out quite a bit. I plan on getting it repaired one day so I can use it in my father's place. And then, I will find the group of bandits whose leader slew my father, and I will enact justice upon them.” Her hands were interlaced in a thoughtful triangle, resting against her lips. She wouldn’t make any assumptions until he finished. “--To my knowledge, the guy got away, so he's still out there somewhere. I don't think they ever caught him. They wouldn't tell me his name, though. So, I'm going to join the Knights and find out who it was." His smile was so endearing. There was so much hope in him. She didn’t want to put a sword through his bubble, but over the years Sybel had learned all about payback. He wouldn’t heed what she’d say but she was compelled to say it nonetheless. “I think you have a noble cause, Sir Knight.” She teased gently, shifting to one side. “Though I feel like I must warn you about your goal. The problem with ideas like honor and glory is just that. They’re ideas. The work well in the realm of speculation, but in practice they can have unintended consequences.” That was all the advice she could safely give. “I’m only saying that because I like you and I think you’re going to do well for yourself.” She continued, the levity returning. “As long as you endeavor to be thoughtful and moderate in your choices, you’ll be a Knight in no time. You certainly have the heart!” To demonstrate, she gently prodded where his heart laid. Twilight was all but gone by that point, the sun having completely made it’s way from the western sky. It was turning a deep navy, though darkness seemed somewhat reluctant to fall. The waxing moon was but a pale smile, hung low on the breast of night. It was soon to be chilly and Sybel drew her cloak in preemptively to ward off the cold. Soon they’d both hear the siren call of being indoors.

[Alistair Fordren]

When she referred to him as Sir Knight he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. He knew she was only teasing, but it still felt strange to be called that. He never really thought about the way people would address him, apparently. His train of thought was broken, though, with her warning.

"Unintended consequences..?" He wondered. "You sound like you've had a similar experience before. What you're saying is probably right, but..." He paused as he stood up from his seat, stretching and looking up at the somewhat-visible stars that had slowly been taking form in the sky. "Well, I guess I just haven't really thought about how to go about life. It's not like I'm willing to take out anyone who stands in my way, you know?" He looked back at her. "It just seems like the logical choice. My father was sent out with his group to do a job. He had a responsibility and he was unable to fulfill it. I'm not blaming him for failing or anything, but its the duty of a son to take over the family's affairs when the father passes on, right?"

He shrugged. "For all I know the man who slew my father died a while ago. But if he is still out there, I plan to bring him down myself. I guess I haven't really thought of any other options. What else should I do with my life? I need something to aspire to. A goal to reach towards. Do you think that's wrong?" He asked, not in a tone as if he had been offended or needed approval, but rather because he was legitimately interested in her opinion. This woman seemed experienced and knowledgeable, and he wasn't going to simply pass up an opportunity for advice.

She had wrapped her cloak around herself as the night drew closer. He didn't have his cloak on him - but he would deal with it without complaint. It did make him wonder what her plans were, though. "You know, you never did tell me what brought you to this city." A rumble from his stomach gave away his impending hunger. He hadn't eaten any dinner yet. In fact, he had planned to go shopping after visiting the garden. "Are you staying at one of the inns? Um.." He rubbed the back of his head during a short pause in speaking. "If you want, you can join me for dinner back at my place. Despite my looks I can cook somewhat decently, heh!" He smiled. "I just need to pick up some ingredients quickly at the market. I think I can get there before they close for the night.."

He was hoping to use this opportunity to learn more about the woman. If she really was Benshiran like he thought, maybe she could tell him more about their culture. He would love to learn more about the outside world. Besides, she was his first real friend in a while. He wanted to do something nice for her.