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

[Sybel]

"Unintended consequences..?" It was apparent he hadn’t thought of it with that perspective. Sybel had already figured as much. Alistair was a smart, loyal kid. He would follow the path laid out for him. After all, it was the obvious choice. "You sound like you've had a similar experience before. What you're saying is probably right, but..." He trailed off, overcome with sudden indecision. "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?" Of course not. Alistair didn’t seem remotely interested in violence. That could potentially change - you never knew your true disposition until you’d been blooded. He just didn’t seem the type. Perhaps it was Sybel’s newfound affection toward him clouding her judgment. That was possible, but unlikely. She’d just met him after all. Her stare was fixed on the swaying branches of the willow, the shadow a gnarled claw against the pavement. Nightfall was upon them and the retainers for the Stone Garden would light their torches soon. "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?" She bit her lip. “I knew you felt that way somehow." Once again, those light eyes were distant, lost in a thought. "Those were the values you were raised with. Of course following your Father is the logical choice. Just don’t disregard your own feelings in the matter. I think you are following your heart now, but don’t lose sight of that further down the road." That was a safe approach. Advice of that variety could be tricky and she was no Son of Rapa. There wasn't a lot of divine wisdom with Sybel. Just experience and clarity. She cleared her throat, her breath misting out into the chilled air. "Sometimes when we let ideas like honor and virtue become bigger than ourselves, we begin to lose sight of what were before them.” Her expression was kind. She recalled what it was like to be a newfound adult, questioning everything. Alistair was totally malleable. His journey would be wholly what he made of it. Therefore any approach on her part required gentility. That was a luxury she’d never had and one he deserved. "For all I know the man who slew my father died a while ago.” Alistair continued the thought. “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?" It was a legitimate question. Her answer could potentially be a catalyst for the young man, so she’d choose her words with care. “Well…” There was the filler word, hanging in the air between them. There was nothing wrong with that he wanted. But would it bring him happiness? That was the question he must ask himself. “It’s not wrong. However, have you put any thought to how happy it will make you? Even if you felt passionately about your Father’s murderer, would his death vindicate you? Or would it leave you directionless, left to question why you even became a Knight?” That was the best place to lead him. She could show him the water, but only Alistair could make the choice to drink. “I think becoming a Syliran Knight is something you want. I just think you need to look more deeply at why that is, beyond the logical assumptions. Ultimately, it will come to define you, so it’s very important.” She chuckled warmly. “Of course, you knew that.” "You know, you never did tell me what brought you to this city." Oh yes, that. There was that topic she’d been avoiding again. Internally she wondered how well he’d take the tale of the boy who lost the tip of his nose from sticking it where it didn’t belong, but she knew that was harsh given the circumstances. It wasn’t his fault that she wasn’t making her fortune in exotic lands like she’d dreamed. That was her own idiot fault. Before she could answer his question, his stomach spoke for him. He looked mildly back at her, most likely embarrassed. "Are you staying at one of the inns? Um.. If you want, you can join me for dinner back at my place. Despite my looks I can cook somewhat decently, heh!" Despite his looks? Off-hand she wondered what a good cook looked like. Maybe they had a gnosis mark in the shape of a spatula. The image was inappropriately hilarious, and she barely stifled the impulse to laugh. "I just need to pick up some ingredients quickly at the market. I think I can get there before they close for the night..." She grinned at him. “Oh yeah?” She responded, rising from the bench. “We’d better hurry then.” That was her indirect consent. How could she pass up a free meal? Plus he’d seemed eager to continue their conversation, so why not? “Tell you what.” With a sleek movement, she pulled up her hood. “If you cook me a meal, I’ll tell you all my secrets. Well, most of them.” Extravagantly she raised one hand to shake on it. “Deal? If so, you lead the way Ser Alistair.” She winked conspiratorially. The day was shaping up far better than expected.

[Alistair Fordren]

He had to admit she certainly brought up some good points. Perhaps the main reason he had sought this path was solely for his father's memory. He had a lot of time to think about things when he was bed-ridden, and he knew then that he wanted to be a Knight like his father more than anything else. But when his father died, his life was turned upside-down. He had no income of his own, so he needed to take care of himself instead. It was unfortunate, because his body started to become stronger only a few months before his father passed on. If his father had lived, his life could have turned out far differently. He probably could have easily become a squire with his father's help.

But now, instead of simply becoming a Knight out of a desire to help and protect people, he also wanted to bring his father's murderer to justice. Once he had accomplished that goal, what would lie beyond that? He wasn't sure, and he wasn't even sure if he cared at that point. When he was younger, each day alive felt like a blessing. Each day that passed could have been his last. He was stronger now, healthier. And simply "being alive" wasn't enough of a goal for him. He wanted more. He wanted to make up for all the things he couldn't do as a child.

"Maybe you're right, Miss Sybel." He said. "But I want to be a Knight so I can protect people." He decided. "Perhaps instead of looking at the bandits as my end goal, I should look at them as just the beginning. Starting where my father left off. After all," He smiled, "I read in a book that one's path only ends when one decides to stop moving."

He did a poor job of hiding his excitement when she accepted his offer for a meal. He never had the chance to cook for someone else before. He had to do a good job! Thoughts of recipes ran through his head. He only knew a few well enough to try for another person, though.

"Very well, m'lady. I accept your proposal!" Instead of shaking her hand he took hold of it gently with his right hand and bowed down to kiss the top of her hand. Then he backed off with a large grin on his face. "Come, I'll show you to my place. You can rest there while I purchase some groceries!" He figured she probably still had a bit of a headache and wouldn't want to walk around the bazaar for a while as he haggled with the merchants.

Assuming she followed him without complaint, he would lead her into the halls of the castle, holding doors like a proper gentleman where/if necessary, until finally they reached the door to his apparent room. He shrugged and looked at her apologetically before opening the door. "Sorry, it isn't much. Unless you have a lot of money in this city you're stuck in cramped rooms like this." He said, frowning.

As he said, the room wasn't much to look at. Not even any windows or anything fancy. A bed, a table, a wooden chest and the hearth was about all there would be. He would be sure to light the hearth from a torch outside the room before he left. "Feel free to rest on my bed before I return. I shouldn't be too long."

[Sybel]

"Maybe you're right, Miss Sybel. But I want to be a Knight so I can protect people." Miss? The archaic mode of address almost made her cringe. That was the very first time anyone had called her that, and she prayed to Ovek her friend wasn’t planning on making it a habit. "Perhaps instead of looking at the bandits as my end goal, I should look at them as just the beginning. Starting where my father left off. After all, I read in a book that one's path only ends when one decides to stop moving." That was certainly true. It was rewarding to see the fruit just a little guidance could bear. He was a very intelligent person, so it really wasn’t hard for him to figure it all out. It’d take far more introspection for him in the future, but the first step in fixing any problem is acknowledging it. He seemed to feel better, she noted. He stood straighter, almost with pride. It made her feel accomplished. "Very well, m'lady. I accept your proposal!" He exclaimed. When his lips brushed her knuckles, she feigned a delicate swoon. Once he warmed up, Alistair was almost a different person. He was endearing, humorous and very clever. It was a shame how he so obviously underrated himself. "Come, I'll show you to my place. You can rest there while I purchase some groceries!" Though that wasn’t entirely necessarily, she wasn’t about to interfere with his good mood. “Whatever you wish…” She murmured in response and followed him out of the Garden. As they entered Stormhold, her mind wandered. Castles were such dreary places. They were stone prisons for a grim-faced Kings. In truth, she was of a similar opinion with the Knights. They could also be dreary. Many of them were stodgy, self-important blowhards. Sybel was naturally distrustful of any organization “for the greater good.” That didn’t necessarily affect her opinion of Alistair. She liked her dewy-eyed companion. He was not yet corrupted by an over-bearing sense of social responsibility. In fact, it was unlikely that he would become as bad as the rest of them. The knights needed more people like Alistair. Perhaps Sybel was a little biased. Even she was guilty of generalizing people from time to time. As they continued to walk, Alistair held each door open for her. His chivalry was a tad overdone, but she didn’t want to spoil it for him. It was sweet - not to mention it wasn’t very often she was treated like an actual lady. She’d play along with the whole affair; once again, why not? Vaguely she wondered if he would be disappointed to know she’d be departing the next day. It seemed like the drafty, stone corridors wound on forever. The close quarters made her somewhat claustrophobic. For their next meeting she would suggest a picnic where there was actual oxygen. It would be a while before she’d be back in Syliras, but they seemed to have hit it off well enough. By then he might even be a Knight. That was a strong hope. When he paused to open a final door, she realized abruptly they were at his humble abode. It was a one-room apartment without much in the way of luxury. "Sorry, it isn't much. Unless you have a lot of money in this city you're stuck in cramped rooms like this." He seemed slightly dejected. “Don’t think too much on it.” Sybel grinned. “It beats living in a tent.” That wasn’t necessarily true in her case, but it was in the case of most. "Feel free to rest on my bed before I return. I shouldn't be too long." Oh my. It was with great difficulty she avoided smirking. He was so innocent it was dangerous. He was fortunate she wasn’t a predator – there were women out there who would have sprung on that particular opportunity. It wouldn’t be worthwhile to mention it, but in the future she prayed he would think on what he offered more carefully. “I’m not tired, but thank you dear.” The term slipped out of her naturally. That was the first time she’d ever called anyone that. It seemed they were bonding quite fast. That stung a bit in lieu of the journey she’d be shortly be embarking on. “Be swift and safe.” She uttered, leaning against the mortared wall by the hearth. He lit the logs with a smoldering torch and departed, leaving her to close her eyes and drift. Truth told she was quite tired, not having finished her nap from earlier. He’d chased away her headache but given her another, more complicated one. She didn’t want to be the skunk at the garden party… But there’d be no point in her prolonging the trip to Mura. He wouldn’t want to delay her anyway. She cast a doleful look at the merrily crackling fire.

[Alistair Fordren]

His innocent ignorance caused him to think absolutely nothing of offering his bed to his new friend. In all honesty, he was just happy he had met someone that seemed so easy to talk to. Which is why he thought no harm in leaving this practically-a-stranger alone in his home while he went about shopping. It wasn't like there was much there to steal anyway. His father's old sword was in the chest, along with a few other items such as eating utensils, but no one would likely want to steal that regardless. An old, worn bookshelf stood next to the chest, with two just-as-old-if-not-older books, one on first aid and another a book full of recipes. Books could sometimes fetch a good price, but chances were no one would really find them worth the time.

It was getting late, and he needed to make haste. On the way to the bazaar downstairs, he considered that he should purchase another small pot and another set of utensils as well. It might get awkward otherwise with only one set when the meal was for both of them. He nearly slammed right into a patrolling guard at one point as he rounded a corner in his excited haste. The guard eyed him suspiciously as Alistair bowed politely in apology. "Really sorry, Ser. I am in a hurry to purchase goods before closing time and wasn't being careful. It won't happen again, I promise."

The guard just sighed. "Damn kids." Was all he said as he pushed his way past Alistair.

When the young man finally reached his destination, his heart beating fast with excitement and anxiety over what he should make, he immediately sighted a merchant he was used to visiting. He breathed a sigh of relief that the man was still there - although it looked like he was getting ready to leave for the day! "Oh, hey Al!" The merchant greeted with a smile as he noticed the last-minute customer. "Hey, you just made it. I was just ready to close! What can I get you? I just got a fresh new batch of tomatoes I think you'll love!"

Alistair smiled politely. "That sounds wonderful! But I think I'll pass today. Um.." He browsed around at the merchant's goods and frowned. "Do you have any potatoes?"

"Hrm, 'fraid I'm all out, kid, sorry."

"Oh dear.. uh.. Fine, throw a tomato in, then." Wasn't what he had in mind, but it could work. Maybe. This was bad, he had one thing in mind but couldn't get everything he needed for it. In the end, he had to settle for some corned beef instead of chicken, too. That's what he got for getting there late, he figured. In the end, he still managed to purchase the tomato, some salt, onions, carrots, and of course the beef. He couldn't get too fancy unfortunately, his budget wouldn't support it very well, considering he had no current income.

"Hey Al, that's more than you usually get. Got a girlfriend or something?" The grocer asked with with a fascinated look.

Alistair simply blinked a few times at the man, not sure of what to say. "Girlfriend? Well no, she's just someone I know, that's all." He looked a little uncomfortable, but the merchant just laughed.

"Oh, really? Just a friend, eh? Well, good luck. Maybe you'll get lucky!"

More blinking. "...Lucky?" Alistair replied. He had no idea what the man was talking about, and the merchant just shook his head in disbelief. "Oh, right! You mean with the meal, right? I couldn't get everything I wanted, but I sure hope so! Thanks a lot!" Alistair finally said, turning and practically running off. The merchant just buried his face in his hands, unable to believe a boy his age could have so little clue.

He had to purchase another pot and some utensils before finally returning home (luckily he managed to find a place to purchase those!), but when he did he placed all of the things he had purchased on the table with a sigh of relief. "I'm back!" He exclaimed. "See, told you I could make it!" Again with the giant smile on his face. Of course, if she turned out to be sleeping, he wouldn't say anything in an attempt to let her rest.

"I'm sorry I took longer than I thought I would. It will be a few more minutes though until this is ready." He would say if/when she awoke. He decided to not mention that two of the ingredients he had wanted were not available at the time. He would leave just one more time to fill the cauldron he used for cooking with water, but after that he sat at the table, sorting his cooking ingredients and preparing them for cooking. If she was awake, he would attempt to start a conversation while doing so.

"So, Miss Sybel." He started as he examined the tomato. The fire cackled as the wood inside the hearth burned and fell apart. "Mind if I ask what brought you to this city? I don't believe you ever told me."

NoteI am a silly goose and neglected to mention the bookcase in my previous post so I mentioned it in this one, apologies.

[Sybel]

Alistair’s trip out took a little while longer than she’d expected, and thus she began to doze lightly against the wall. Leading a life of travel had taught her to sleep in almost any condition, especially in the saddle. It was a talent. She made sure however not to submerge herself completely. It wouldn’t bode well for her to pass out in a strange environment, no matter how seemingly innocent this person was. Despite her affability, Sybel could be quite skeptical. There were too many hard lessons regarding trust in her youth to make the same mistakes twice. "I'm back!" Her eyes snapped open. "See, told you I could make it!" Resisting a yawn, she instead grinned. “I never doubted you.” Sybel declared and immediately approached to help Alistair unburden himself. Once they’d set all the ingredients on the table, she assumed the seat opposite. "I'm sorry I took longer than I thought I would. It will be a few more minutes though until this is ready." He seemed apologetic. She waved it off dismissively. “It’s nothing,” she answered. “I’ve spent a large portion of life waiting. It’s a necessary evil.” He seemed preoccupied, almost disappointed. There was something bothering him but it seemed minor. Vaguely she realized she was watching his hands as he worked, tracing the contour of his agile fingers. They were capable hands, she reflected. He exuded competence. When he was comfortable, Alistair was very adept. That would serve him well down the line. Those were hands that could hold a sword if they chose. "So, Miss Sybel." Quickly, she averted her eyes. It was embarrassing, the way she inadvertently memorized personal details. That was something she couldn’t help. "Mind if I ask what brought you to this city? I don't believe you ever told me." He was certainly persistent. “Well first you can call me Sybel. I’m not over fond of the title “miss.” It makes me feel like a spinster.” She really hoped he would take that to heart. “Second, I made you a deal and I intend to keep it…” Inhaling deeply, she launched into her tale: “When I left Eyktol this time, I had set Syliras in my sights. It’s a very populated area with a diverse population, so I figured that it would be a great center of commerce. I’m not very familiar with the lore here so I didn’t know of the racket the Syliran Knights had set up. It’s a scandal…” She shook her head mournfully. “I’m a merchant see, and I came all this way to start a business. The regulations here state I’d have to donate all of my profits to the ‘greater good’ and in turn receive a set salary.” Just speaking of it made her angry. “I understand it may be necessary, but I find it disturbing. I should have the freedom to capitalize from my hard work!” Of course, if she went too far she would upset Alistair and that was not her intent. “Don’t get me wrong,” she qualified. “It’s not that I don’t get the idea behind it. I’m simply angry with myself for being so foolish. I traveled all the way North for nothing.” That was leading into her next point – the one she’d rather not reveal. “However, the good news is that I think on my feet.” Sybel chose her words strategically. “I’m leaving for Mura to regroup. I’ve been there before and it’s a lovely sort of place. It will help me think. That and they have the largest pearls you could even imagine.” She gave an enamored sigh just visualizing them. It was a merchant’s dream. Of course, she’d been careful to avoid the ‘when’ of her trip. That was the crux of their brief friendship. "So what's on your mind?" She interjected with a small giggle. "You forget something?"

[Alistair Fordren]

Honestly, he was happy she was awake. He was hoping to talk to her more and the wait for the food to cook was a perfect excuse. This was a rare opportunity for him; the chance to obtain information about the outside world. He loved learning new things, and outside of things he had read in books he knew practically nothing about anything beyond the city. He did notice though, that she had seemed awfully close to falling asleep before his return. Looks like he had made it back just in time.

"Thank you." He smiled as she assisted him in unloading his purchased goods. As he began the preparations, he noticed she had begun to watch him closely. It felt slightly awkward to him, as he had never prepared a meal before as someone watched. The only other person he had attempted cooking for was his father - and even then he was pretty sure that the meal was far less scrumptious than his father had made it out to be. He did fairly well at hiding his discomfort, though, not wanting to do anything to scare away his new friend.

Instead, he started up a conversation as he worked. More awkwardness came over him when she explained her dislike over the miss title. Honestly, though, he felt weird addressing her so informally. It didn't make much of a difference in the end, so he simply made a mental note not to do it again.

He glanced over at the water in the cauldron which hung over the fire in the hearth, listening to her explanation as he did so. He would occasionally glance at her to show he was paying attention, but mostly kept his eyes on the food in front of him. As time went on, he would throw certain portions of the ingredients into the pot and stir with a large spoon. One thing she might notice was that he seemed to have a fine attention to detail. He observed the items he was preparing rather closely, and would often appear dissatisfied with how certain portions turned out. In all honesty, he probably could have finished in a much more timely manner if it wasn't for this attribute of his.

She mentioned leaving Eyktol. Yup, definitely Benshiran. But man, that was a long ways away. He had no idea how many days of travel that had to have taken her, but it was certainly no day trip. When she mentioned the merchant system Syliras used, though, where business owners gave all profits to the city and in return received a set salary, he stopped mid-cut of a carrot and looked up at her, blinking in confusion. Freedom to capitalize from her hard work? What did that even mean?

"I don't get it. It doesn't work that way in other cities?" He was legitimately surprised by this, and it showed. "Woah, wait a minute. How do other cities handle merchants, then?" He put his knife down and actually seemed to consider this very carefully. "There's so much of the outside world I don't know! Incredible..." He trailed off as a portion of the corned beef took his attention. He fidgeted with the apparently unsatisfactory piece with the knife, still listening to her albeit he didn't look like he was after a few more seconds passed by and he was still picking on the poor piece of dead cow. It became somewhat comical, in fact, his face twisting in frustration before finally he managed to yank off the piece of the meat that he, for whatever reason, didn't like. As soon as he accomplished this, his demeanor returned to how it was before as if nothing had happened.

He didn't seem offended at all by her words. More curious than anything else. She mentioned leaving for Mura. There was a noticeable pause in his work when she said this, but it was only for a brief moment and he didn't comment on it right away. He merely continued his work on the food preparation until she commented on his demeanor.

"Oh..." He looked back up at her, surprised once more. "No, not really. It's fine." He shrugged it off with a smile. He quickly looked for a way out of the question, before being forced to answer that he didn't obtain the ingredients he had originally wanted. "So, when do you leave for Mura?"

[Sybel]

Alistair shot her a quizzical look. "I don't get it. It doesn't work that way in other cities," he puzzled. Sybel suddenly felt winded. Was he serious? How sheltered could a person be? Flabbergasted, he continued. "Woah, wait a minute. How do other cities handle merchants, then?" That was truly astounding to her. He didn’t understand for-profit businesses. He hadn’t even heard of them. It was incredible. No wonder there was such little complaint in Syliras. It had never occurred to her, being a merchant’s daughter, that someone could live their life not knowing how a shop was supposed to run. Internally she uttered a single curse for their socialized economic system. "There's so much of the outside world I don't know! Incredible..." No kidding, she mused. After the initial shock, there was still leftover disbelief. He’d read plenty of books judging by his monumental bookcase. It was brimming with knowledge! It was hard to believe that he had never read a single paragraph about modern concept of free markets. Then again, that particular topic had been the focus of her entire life. Culture shock could be so cruel. While all this whirled about her mind, her friend was apparently trying to re-butcher their meal. It would have been truly funny too, if she hadn’t been so preoccupied. He had this priceless look of consternation as he waged war on the offending morsel. Normally, Sybel would have been fighting with her sense of humor. Instead she was fighting a different battle with her sense of injustice. “Well… The idea is to buy short and sell long. You would obtain the things you wanted to sell for a low cost, then sell them for a higher cost and keep the difference. It’s kind of like a surplus of grain.” She struggled with the metaphor. Agriculture really wasn’t her thing. “You, uh… Have a lot of it, so it’s like a profit.” Sensing her ineptitude, she quit the explanation and endeavored toward another. “You want to make money off the things you sell, then keep that money. If you work as hard as you can, every day… You want to get paid for that work. Well, if no matter how hard you work you always get paid the same – why hard work at all? It’s like that.” Sybel was failing. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that the cow’s been dead, so unless it’s the magical immortal bovine, there’s little hope for its resurrection.” She teased him with a grin, hoping to lift his spirits. “Don’t worry,” she added, sensing his frustration. “The books on economics are always the stodgiest. I don’t blame you for not knowing these things.” There was something else bothering him though, she could feel it. "No, not really. It's fine." He’d said in reference to her question on his behavior. But that hadn’t necessarily convinced her. "So, when do you leave for Mura?" The boy was sharp. There was no elbow-room for omission, which made her wince. She hated having to ruin things so early on in their friendship. Hiding her expression, she answered. “I’m going tomorrow, actually.” Before he could react, she deployed the cushion. “Hey, don’t worry though! Lucky for you, I keep in touch with friends. I mean, I could. If you wanted.” Sybel didn’t want to throw out the suggestion too strongly. He could potentially be angry with her. Shamefaced, she looked up to see his reaction.

[Alistair Fordren]

"So, in other words." He started, trying to put together what she was saying and make sense of it. "What you make for a profit in your business is what you keep. But that also means during a particularly unprofitable season, you may not have a reliable income." He relaxed a moment, looking at her curiously. "Does that sound right? I suppose if you are used to that, then I could understand if you find Syliras irritating in that regard." He looked back down at the food he was preparing, not nearly as frustrated with it as he was a moment ago. "I would assume you're also rather good at the whole merchant thing, if you prefer a path that is more risky but also more rewarding. I get the impression that those who aren't as skilled in that profession would be more comfortable with the Syliras method."

He laughed at her magical bovine joke. "If this was a magical immortal bovine, I got a fairly good deal on it, I assure you." He placed the meat into the cauldron now, stirring with a large spoon and eying the meal-in-progress closely. He continued talking to her as he tended to his stew. "Hmm, so we just met and you plan on leaving tomorrow already, huh." Looks like he would have to get as much information on the outside world out of her as possible. "That's very unfortunate. We only just met." He seemed upset at the revelation, but at the same time his voice had been almost monotone, as if the meal was taking most of his concentration.

"I don't see the point in you sticking around, though. You have a job to do. A path to walk. A dream to follow." He turned around with a smile. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. He had really started to grow attached to Sybel, but what was the point in her staying if the city didn't offer what she wanted? "I know I don't have much to offer, but if you want you can sleep here tonight. I'll walk you to the city gates in the morning." He shrugged. "It's up to you, but I don't see why you should have to pay for another night in an inn." He turned back to his stew, but quickly added "Unless you paid in advance, of course."

There was only one bed in his room, though. And unless the two of them planned to share it - which would be awkward not only for obvious reasons but also the fact that the bed was rather small - one of them would end up sleeping on the floor. That didn't stop him from at least offering, though. Honestly, part of him wanted her to stay. He needed a friend, and Sybel was experienced enough to show him things that his father wasn't able to before he died. Part of him secretly hoped that she would offer him a chance to travel with her, but he knew that would never work. He didn't even have any of the skills necessary to survive in the outside world. She would pretty much need to babysit him. Besides the little bit he knew about plants and first aid, he knew nothing about survival outside of a city and chances were he could never keep up stamina-wise while traveling. He would only slow her down, and definitely would not be able to make up for it in any way when it came to assisting her business-wise. Pretty much, he would be nothing but a burden. There was no way around it; Sybel would leave tomorrow and who knows when he would see her again.

The food was well on its way to being done by now. And regardless of her answer to his proposal of her staying over night, he would ask, "Is there a reason you decided to leave Eyktol?" He hoped he wasn't intruding too far, but why couldn't she be a merchant in her homeland instead? He wondered if maybe it had to do with the population. There would be less people in such a desert-like region, maybe? He found it likely it was pure business she decided to leave, but maybe there was a personal reason or two. Either way, it was the first question he thought to ask her in order to shift the subject away from her impending departure.

[Sybel]

"So, in other words, what you make for a profit in your business is what you keep. But that also means during a particularly unprofitable season, you may not have a reliable income.” See, she knew he would get it, despite her unsatisfactory explanation. He seem comforted by the revelation. "Does that sound right? I suppose if you are used to that, then I could understand if you find Syliras irritating in that regard." She nodded emphatically. It seemed they could relate to one another better than she’d initially thought. His head wasn’t filled with too many delusions of honor and virtue. He was a pragmatist. Every conclusion he’d come to thus far was just the practical one. That suited her. "I would assume you're also rather good at the whole merchant thing, if you prefer a path that is more risky but also more rewarding. I get the impression that those who aren't as skilled in that profession would be more comfortable with the Syliras method." There it was. He’d said it, not her – still, it left her beaming to think he thought of her that way. Her affection for him swelled. It hurt a little, to get a companion and then chance losing him so quickly. The irrational thought to invite him along asserted itself, but almost instantly she rejected it. His was a different path to walk. For the first time in very long time, something deep within wanted to cry. That was stupid and furthermore, stupid! What was wrong with her? She barely knew this kid! He was just a kid after all. Horrified, it occurred to her. He reminded her of Hael. The brown eyed, quiet boy from her adolescence. The only person other than her Father that she’d ever truly loved. That particular memory resided in a deep, dark place inside of her that she’d rather not explore. She had to leave. He couldn’t come with her. It was awkward but the feeling was too much. No wonder she’d warmed up so quickly. "If this was a magical immortal bovine, I got a fairly good deal on it, I assure you." Normally, she’d laugh at that. Instead she managed a weak chuckle, eyes sad. Her realization had silenced her. Alistair had no idea, but he was the youthful embodiment of her first love. The one that betrayed her. It choked her sense of reason. "Hmm, so we just met and you plan on leaving tomorrow already, huh." Sybel could only manage a slight reaction. "That's very unfortunate. We only just met." It was unfortunate, honestly. “Yes…” She trailed, barely hinged. If she didn’t get it together soon, he would notice her sudden change in behvior. In a attempt to appear distracted, she memorized patterns in the far wall. "I don't see the point in you sticking around, though. You have a job to do. A path to walk. A dream to follow." He’d read her mind, yet again. It seemed he sensed their difference in purpose at well. It hurt but she cracked a smile at that. "I know I don't have much to offer, but if you want you can sleep here tonight. I'll walk you to the city gates in the morning. It's up to you, but I don't see why you should have to pay for another night in an inn." He said something else, but she missed the latter half of his sentence. It was somehow different than his offer to sleep in his bed. Sure, it was still innocent but the connotation had altered it’s meaning because of her. Her foolhardy brain had ruined the whole thing for her. Okay so maybe not ruined, but tainted somehow. This boy deserved better than some sad, broken adult for a friend. “No, it’s fine.” She whispered, pain ringing in her speech. “I have a tent.” Oh she was a terrible actress – that much was obvious. It wouldn’t be long before he’d ask what was wrong. In truth he didn’t know what she would say. "Is there a reason you decided to leave Eyktol?" It burst a carefully controlled dam inside her. “The first time was because my Father died.” Yes, perhaps he’d think it was that on her mind, making her blue. “He’d betrothed me to someone against my will, as is our custom. Only I was willing to go run away because of it. He was murdered before I got my chance. I left to exact my own justice. Because of that, I learned a lot.”

[Alistair Fordren]

Something was wrong. Most of his attention was towards the nearly-done-cooking stew, but her vocal tone had completely changed. Not only that, she seemed far less talkative than before. Had he offended her somehow? The thought of offending his new found friend scared him. She had turned down his offer to stay in his room, which he had somewhat expected. It was the way she had said it that had concerned him. "Very well. If you feel more comfortable that way, then I won't attempt to persuade you to do otherwise." He said, deciding to leave her change of demeanor alone for now. He didn't intend to forget it, though he could tell she was trying hard to hide it. Instead, he asked her about why she had left her homeland.

He would stir the contents of the cauldron while listening. In truth, this was just for show. He was simply looking busy while she talked. He listened closely to the way she responded to his question, hoping to catch something that would explain her sudden change in tone. She didn't seem mad at him or anything, so he was pretty sure he hadn't offended her. But her response didn't really give him any clue as to whether or not he should ask what was bothering her. She mentioned her father dying - reason enough for anyone to be upset. He certainly knew the feeling. But her tone changed before he asked that question.

"I see." Was all he said in response to her explanation. He had no idea what to say. He felt very awkward. He wasn't at all comfortable socializing with people most of the time, and Sybel was the first person in a while he had managed to feel comfortable with. But now that she seemed so upset over something, he had absolutely no idea what to do. He felt an overwhelming urge to make her feel better, but what should he do to accomplish that!?

He let out a big sigh and slumped, letting go of the spoon in the cauldron and leaving it idle in the pot. "Hey, umm.." He started awkwardly. "If I hurt your feelings or something... I'm sorry. " He began to turn towards her, just barely making eye contact before quickly turning away. "Err, I mean I know you're trying to hide it and all but it's okay, you won't upset me or anything.. heh.." He rubbed the back of his head with his right hand, still keeping himself turned away from her.

"Oh!" He suddenly said in an attempt to prevent her from responding. "You know, this is almost ready so I'll get the table ready!" He said in an obviously fake upbeat tone, as if trying to act as if what he had just said never happened. He rushed over to his chest by the wall and opened it, fishing around for things inside and purposely taking more time than required to obtain what was inside.

He desperately hoped he didn't say anything to offend his new friend. How horrible it would be if she was mad at him! What would he do? What would he say? Would she still want to eat with him? So many things raced through his head, he didn't even realize how frantic he looked. He even managed to drop the small pot and the rest of his silverware he had fished out from his chest halfway to the table. "Whoops!" He said in an overly exaggerated tone, scrambling to pick up the items. He dropped the fork once again but quickly grabbed it as if attempting to conceal that fact.