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

[Sybel]

"Very well. If you feel more comfortable that way, then I won't attempt to persuade you to do otherwise." Had he noticed? His noncommittal tone had her uncertain. Maybe he was capable of masking certain feelings, if he tried. Who was she kidding? The truth was that she didn’t know this person. Her self-possession was conspicuously absent at that moment. It made her feel infantile. The stress worried a hole in her stomach. When he listened, his posture was abstracted. It seemed like he was busy in his preparations and yet all he did was stir. Perhaps he was thinking as she spoke, his mind distant. "I see." He replied shortly. That was not good. It was likely he’d sensed the change in conversation after all. It had been somewhat drastic. Trying to turn it around, she forced her feelings down into their cavernous prison. "Hey, umm.." Alistair was distinctly uncomfortable. "If I hurt your feelings or something... I'm sorry. " Their eyes meeting almost scalded him, and he turned away. That stung a bit. After all the advice she’d provided, she had managed to pervert it. Later she would berate herself but there was no time for it then. Sybel had to make things right. "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.." “No Alistair, it’s not you.” That was only half true, but she lied smoothly nonetheless. Her voice was a little less sad. “You remind me of a good friend that I lost once. You even look a bit like him.” The bitterness was hard to swallow. Yet it came out with a substantial amount of sincerity. He did have those same eyes. “He was dear to me. I didn’t realize it until just now. But it’s not a bad thing.” Her ever-present smile beamed through. “Just a sad one. It means that I consider you a friend.” That should be a good thing, right? And it was. Violently she tore the two identities from one another. After all, it wasn’t fair that this young boy should be compared with someone he barely knew. It was likely at their core they weren’t remotely similar. It was just a superficial likeness. As she worked through the issue, she felt marginally better. There was a reason she kept her past in a remote place. It sent her on an emotional rollercoaster and she couldn’t afford to lose her hard-won composure. "Oh!" He exclaimed, his cheerful outburst oozing with insincerity. "You know, this is almost ready so I'll get the table ready!" He was working hard to mask the hurt she’d caused. That made her chest ache. What a monster she could be. Almost manically he set the table. All thumbs, he juggled plates and pitchers until finally a collection of silverware and a single small pot clamored to the floor. "Whoops!" It was bound to happen, she thought grimly. With surprising agility, Sybel got to her feet and helped him collect his fallen items. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” It was a breathy whisper. She didn’t want her close proximity to freak him out further, so she tried to stay away. Once completely rounded-up she set her half of the objects on the table, helping him to finish his work. “Ready?” She asked in reference to the dinner. “It smells magnificent.”

[Alistair Fordren]

He reminded her of a good friend that she had lost? How so? Well, either way it seemed he had not offended her. That was a good thing, certainly. But she said she had considered him a friend, and that delighted him. He spun around with a bright smile on his face this time. "Oh... I consider you my friend, too, Sybel." He said in a cheery tone before running over to the wooden chest to obtain the silverware inside. The awkwardness of the whole situation caused him to drop a few things, but she was kind enough to help him. He paused, though, when she spoke to him. "That's good. I'm glad." He said, giving her a sincere empathetic look. He still wondered about this person he reminded her of, though.

She asked about the dinner, and in all honesty he had completely forgotten it for that minute. With all the awkward emotions floating around he had practically become lost in his own room. "Let me check!" He exclaimed, rushing over to the pot and examining it. "Hmm, yes, this is perfect I think!" He turned around to grab one of the small pots he had, and filled it with some of the contents of the cauldron. "Be careful, it's hot still." He would hand the small pot back to Sybel, doing his best to hide how nervous he was but mostly failing to do so. No one but his father had ever tried his cooking before. He hoped dearly it wasn't terrible. What would he do if she didn't like it!?

He filled the other pot for himself, the cauldron being empty now after having just the right amount for two people. He took the seat opposite Sybel, staring into his own meal awaiting any sort of reaction from her. He was afraid to look at her or even try the food himself. Considering it didn't consist of the ingredients he had originally wanted, he was completely unsure as to how well it came out.

The good news was that it didn't taste bad. In fact, taking into consideration that he did not have the exact recipe he had wanted, one could say that the food was borderline good. He was certainly no chef, though, and clearly lacked any real experience cooking. Chances were she had eaten far better tasting food at inns and such in the city. If Alistair kept trying and continued to learn about the subject, he could probably be a decent chef one day. But as for now, the stew simply passed as not bad for being a free meal.

If she paid any attention to him, she would clearly see he was an emotional wreck over it. He hadn't taken a single bite yet, instead opting to wait for her opinion of it. He was so nervous he couldn't even look at her. His eyes simply stared into the contents of his own food, while he slightly stirred the contents with his spoon just as he had before with the cauldron.

[Sybel]

Alistair’s mood seemed to lighten considerably at her declaration of friendship. That was a relief. ”Oh… I consider you my friend too, Sybel.” He radiated sincerity. The omission tasted foul between her lips, but there was no helping it. He continued to set the table, his movements steadier and less anxious. Well it did some good, at least. She really did consider him a friend. The ever-present smile returned to her, and she wore it with tentative pride. ”That’s good.” He meant that. ”I’m glad.” Perhaps his tone earlier was more motivated by concern than she realized. At any rate, she’d mended things as well as could be expected. It was time to move on to a lighter topic, lest she be consumed by her own traitorous thoughts. Her timely mention of dinner was well placed, as it moved them in a more natural direction. ”Let me check!” He seemed excited at the prospect of finally having their meal together. Swiftly he checked the simmering pot, his expression thoughtful. After a beat he seemed satisfied. ”Hmm, yes, this is perfect I think!” He exclaimed. Cooking was such a useful skill. From the way he had worked at it, she was convinced he was at least adept. “I’ll trust your judgment.” She remarked dryly. As he handed her the pot, she took it gingerly. It had just come off the fire. Remembering this, Alistair cautioned her. ”Be careful, it’s hot still.” Chuckling she set it in front of her. “I certainly hope so.” She joked. As she took a single spoonful, he was more interested in studying his stew than eating it. Sybel couldn’t help but notice. His trepidation was palpable. She blew on the steaming morsel, cooling it before taking her first bite. “Mmm.” She sighed, the savory substance scalding its way to her heart. With every bite it warmed her up a bit, taking the edge off the drafty single room. After a few moments, she looked back up. He was pushing his stew around in a circle. The anxiety was written across Alistair’s expression in bold lettering. “Hey,” she uttered, prompting him to look up. “Don’t play with your food!” She ribbed. “No seriously, it’s good. Don’t be self-conscious.” Her remonstration was soft and sweet. “You’re far beyond my skill level. Certain wayward inns need more cooks like you.” That was true – the turnip broth she’d had in the past paled in comparison. She had become so accustomed to gruel and rations that the stew was heavenly. She dug back in and ate until she was fit to burst. It was a wonder but she managed to finish it all, which was a credit to her friend’s cooking. She hoped he would eat too instead of boring holes into the floor. After clearing her plate, she leaned back against her chair languidly. The food made her sleepy.

[Alistair Fordren]

This was it. The moment of truth. Time seemed to come to a standstill as he saw Sybel take the very first bite of his cooking. He swallowed the lump in his throat and held his breath. His hands began to shake. He simply blinked at her when she finally spoke, not even sure as to how to respond to her joke. When she complimented him, it took a few moments for him to even register it.

"R-really? You think so?" Her compliment was like a million rocks being lifted off his shoulders. His face was bright red, clearly giving away how flattered he was. "That's... that's good! I'm glad you like it!" He showed a bright smile before finally putting a large spoonful of the stew into his own mouth. Of course, he had forgotten how hot it was still, not even blowing on it first in order to cool it off.

He mumbled something that was clearly supposed to mean hot, but with his full mouth clearly inhibited his speech. He slammed his pot of stew down on the table, his hands now comically yet helplessly waving in front of his mouth in a futile attempt to cool down the contents. Finally, he swallowed, slumping in his seat as to recover from the oh-so-horrible dramatic scenario he had just endured.

Shortly after, as if nothing had even happened, he would pick his pot of stew back up and begin eating once again without incident.

He wouldn't say anything for a few minutes, assuming she didn't strike up a conversation first. He wanted to ask her about the childhood friend she had mentioned earlier, but he wasn't quite sure how to go about it. Should he even ask at all? Once again he found himself lost in thought, eating away at his meal without even really realizing it. "Sybel, would it be intrusive of me to ask about the friend you mentioned earlier? What was he like?" He looked up at her, just now noticing she had recently finished. He immediately looked down at his own portion, regretting even bringing it up. "Never mind." He shoved the last bit of stew into his mouth, leaving an empty pot.

[Sybel]

"R-really? You think so?" Alistair seemed cheered by her response. "That's... that's good! I'm glad you like it!" His face flushed. He was so adorable with glowing cheeks. Realizing this, he took a huge spoonful of stew and shoveled it into his mouth, without first heeding his own advice. It scalded him visibly, and barely managing to contain himself he spluttered and finally swallowed. Clearly mortified, he ate in silence. How silly. Sybel had only bit back laughter so she wouldn’t exacerbate the situation. It was difficult but she’d managed it, finding somewhere else for her gaze to idle while he’d choked it down. As he finished up, he looked pensive. She wondered what he was thinking about. "Sybel, would it be intrusive of me to ask about the friend you mentioned earlier? What was he like?" The question caught her off-guard. Clearing her throat and looking off, she gathered what little self-possession she had and answered with dignity. “He was very sweet, much like yourself. Quiet, thoughtful. He was about your size too, a little taller maybe. When I left Yahebah, he was supposed to come with me. But he couldn’t.” That was all she could say without getting herself into trouble.

[Alistair Fordren]

She had answered his question about her friend anyway. He truly wished he hadn't asked, though. It was obvious to him that thinking about this friend hurt her, and it bothered him that he had been so insensitive. He had thought to apologize, but decided that maybe the situation would be better off left alone. He looked around randomly, as if searching for something. He needed to find a way to get off the previous subject.

"Do you really intend to sleep in a tent tonight?" Was the first thing he could think of. It was, after all, starting to get fairly late. He had also noticed how tired she seemed to be once she had finished eating dinner. Honestly, part of him wanted her to stay just a little while longer. He wanted her to stay to ward off his loneliness. He had lived for a while now by himself, and missed having someone else around. Even if it was just for one night, he would be glad to be able to sleep with someone else nearby.

Alistair had to remind himself more than once that he likely wouldn't see this woman for a while - if even ever again. It hurt to think that someone he had grown so attached to so quickly would be leaving. He wanted so badly to beg her to stay - but he knew her departure was inevitable. There was just no helping it. Instead, he started to think of destiny. Maybe there was a reason he had met this woman in the first place. But what reason could that be? It certainly wasn't to spend his life with her, considering she was leaving and there was no way he would be able to go with her. There must have been another reason. Some other lesson to be learned deep within their meeting. He wasn't as religious as his father had been, though. Thoughts of destiny and such always seemed to just confuse him.

He stood and made his way over to the hearth, examining the fire inside. It was getting low, and could probably use some more wood. He took hold of one of the logs sitting next to the hearth and gently placed it inside. "I hope you weren't getting cold." He said, although it was difficult for such a small room to get very cold with two people inside of it with a fire going, even if the fire had been getting weak. He poked and prodded the pieces of wood inside the hearth, consumed again by his apparent need to make things just right. "Speaking of which." He continued, still poking at the fire. "Have you ever been this far north at this time of year? It gets rather cold, especially at night." After a few more prods, he was apparently satisfied and turned back to look at her. "Then again, I read deserts can get pretty cold at night. Is that true? If so, maybe you're used to it after all." He shrugged.

[Sybel]

Once answered, it was with regret. There had been no better way to handle his question, but Sybel still felt responsible somehow for it even coming up at all. It must have upset Alistair too, because he seemed withdrawn. That only happened when he felt bad about something. His mannerisms weren’t too hard to identify. It was with even more guilt that she realized how soon she’d have to hurt him the way Hael hurt her. The only difference being that her departure was the same in both cases. If she asked Alistair to come, something deep inside told her he would. "Do you really intend to sleep in a tent tonight?" That was bound to come up again by how dazed she’d been acting. Her belongings were safe so technically she could stay with him if she chose. But what of the morning then? The heartbreak would be that much worse. Silently she cursed herself in every language she knew. Always hungering for company and see where it took her? Trampling all over some young man’s feelings. What a catch she was, she thought coldly. Still, any stalling on her part would simply be delaying the inevitable. They had to part, it was going to be soon and neither one was particularly happy about it. Then again, it was life. Steeling herself, Sybel stood from the table with resolve. "I hope you weren't getting cold." Alistair said, restoring the fireplace of its logs. She shook her head. Cold was a hard fact of the outdoors. You could either cope or not. "Speaking of which.” He stoked the fire as he spoke, eyes away. "Have you ever been this far north at this time of year? It gets rather cold, especially at night." Sybel’s answering smile was poignant. “Indeed I have. After all, I have been traveling for roughly eight years. I always seem to find as many excuses to leave Yahebah as possible. No need to worry, dear.” "Then again, I read deserts can get pretty cold at night. Is that true? If so, maybe you're used to it after all." It was time. “I should go.” She said sadly. “Though I enjoyed your company greatly. Remember what I said about your future. Discover your path, Alistair. I promise you’ll see me again.” Wordless, she strode up next to him and clasped him in an embrace. It wasn’t too familiar, just enough to convey a fondness. That would be enough. It would have to be. Once it ended, that was all she could muster before she would become a weeping, sentimental wreck. There wasn’t enough liquor in Syliras to dam the overflow. From there she slipped her cloak back and pulled up the hood preemptively. “Good night.” She hesitated at the threshold, looking once over her shoulder and smiling. “Don’t get eaten.” She said comically, and swept out the door.

[Alistair Fordren]

He didn't actually think she would stay. He had hoped, but he knew it was futile. He would never admit it, but countless amounts of ideas flew through his head as he attempted to find some way to convince her to stay with him. But besides begging desperately - which he would never do for a multitude of reasons - he thought of nothing. The last comment about the cold night was his last bit of ammunition, and he completely failed to hit his target with it. He hugged her back, clearly doing his best to hide his pain. But, he knew this had to be goodbye. There was no other way.

He walked her over to the door, at least. Part of him had to fight back the urge to at least walk her back to wherever it was she was spending the night. He managed to resist that urge, knowing full well that she would never agree to it. "Good night, Sybel." He said in return. "Thank you.. for everything. I feel a lot better." His voice was sincere. He forced himself to look at her as he spoke, forcing himself not to get teary-eyed. He couldn't be a kid anymore. Not in front of her. "I hope things work out for you in Mura." He added as she departed. He gave a sad smile at her last joke before closing the door.

--

It would be a mystery how much time had passed since she left. The fire in the hearth was running low again, but he had no intention of re-lighting it. He simply lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind trailed back to his earlier thoughts, about destiny.

"Discover your path, Alistair. I promise you’ll see me again."

Her words echoed in his head over and over again. Would he really? Did she even have a reason to come back to Syliras? Did she just say that to appease him? He wanted to see her again. For the first time since his father passed away, he genuinely enjoyed spending time with someone. Why did she have to leave? Was it destiny that he finally met a friend, only to have them leave the very next day? What good could it possibly have done him? She had no reason to ever come back; he honestly found it doubtful her business would ever take her back. How could she possibly find the time? The only way he would ever see her again is if he went out and found her himself. But in order to do that, he would need to be strong enough to actually travel outside the city.

Oh...

He sat up in his bed, the room now dark. The fire had burned out a while ago, it seems. He had no idea how much time had passed, but a sudden revelation came upon him. In order to see Sybel again, he would have to go find her himself. In order to go find her himself, he would need to leave the city. And to leave the city, he needed to be stronger and more capable of taking care of himself. He made up his mind.

He would see Sybel again. And next time, he wouldn't be some lonely kid looking for someone to talk to.

[Chevalier]

Sybel

LORE

• Overcoming a Hangover
• Being Inspiring
• Alistair is Super Innocent

EXPERIENCE

Skill	XP Earned
Interrogation	5
Negotiation	4
Storytelling	4
Rhetoric	5
Observation	2

Alistair

LORE

• Awkward Introductions
• Alijah is Beautiful
• Being Super Innocent
• Supply and Demand

EXPERIENCE

Skill	XP Earned
Rhertoric	5
Storytelling	3
Interrogation	4
Persuasion	4
Cooking	3
Haggling	1

Storyteller Notes

Secret :

It’s a social extravaganza! Anyway the experience should reflect that. Now is your chance Alistair to become a powerful Knight and impress maidens! Well, after a lot of hard work. But it can be done! Any questions feel free to PM me.