.
With a long sigh, she let out the pressure of telling her story to this stranger. She supposed she was not much better than Garland in that regard who revealed everything of his life in the first few moments they had met. She was glad she treated him with kindness instead of disdain, or she would have felt horrible right now for doing the same thing to Vhertos, even if they were sharing their tales.
“Thank you”, she did not forget his tale of woe however, and clearly he did not as he struggled within himself. That much was obvious.
Her piercing eyes saw not only that he was troubled a little, but greatly. Anguish, torment, and such things were in his cards. She admired his restraint on the pew as he squeezed it, his arm bulging from using his muscle on it. She idly wondered what great strength lay hidden in it. Her hands would have died in pain squeezing the wood like that.
“I wouldn’t even know how to seek the protection of the knights. I’m nobody to them. I will just try to lay low and think on what to do. But thank you for the kind words…” She said wistfully.
With a curious look on her face she tilted her head to him to catch his eyes in hers. Once she had them she said, “You know...I think you have a great cause, a great quest of goodness. Your father is surely in the house of your god...Not only for his valiant behavior, but his willingness not to allow evil to spread, putting his own body in front of such a force. I would not want to ever dissuade you from your purpose, but I can’t be sure...Maybe I have this one thing against you from what little I have perceived.” She paused a moment and said, “I think it has come to a point of sickness in you. Don’t you think?” She couldn’t speak with certainty as she wasn’t sure of her own abilities to perceive who he was inside, it was just a feeling. “I think if I was your father, I’d want you to avenge me with great passion, but more than the willingness to avenge me, I’d want you to fight evils wherever they arose. In doing so you would surely come and return that which is taken from him.” She paused again and held up a finger, “What if your quest for vengeance leads you down a path of darkness, one that you must decide whether you must make a bad decision to complete your goal. Would you do it? Would you do evil to avenge your father? No...that is not you. So I’m saying, let your bitterness go. Bitterness leads to anger, anger leads to rage, and rage to wrath. When you have become wrathful against someone it is...dangerous. Inside” she pointed gently at her heart.
“I do not have such great anger for my attacker. He was not born this way. He was a child, raised in a family, had friends and life, but somewhere along the way he fell aside. He made bad decisions. I could be wrathful at him and desire his demise, but instead I have forgiven him. He didn’t know what he was doing, and while he may still wish me dead. I would rather die knowing my heart was pure in love, than tainted in the same anger that…” She couldn’t think of the word for defiled, “Sickened him to me.” With that she reached up a tentative hand and to pat his arm, yet was afraid initially to touch him. She waited a hesitated moment to see if he violently reacted against her touch, but if not she would firmly grasp his forearm and give it a squeeze; if she could. Her hand was not just cold, but as though she had been dead for days and left out in the winter cold. After the squeeze, she returned it back under the cloak he left her with.
With a long sigh, she let out the pressure of telling her story to this stranger. She supposed she was not much better than Garland in that regard who revealed everything of his life in the first few moments they had met. She was glad she treated him with kindness instead of disdain, or she would have felt horrible right now for doing the same thing to Vhertos, even if they were sharing their tales.
“Thank you”, she did not forget his tale of woe however, and clearly he did not as he struggled within himself. That much was obvious.
Her piercing eyes saw not only that he was troubled a little, but greatly. Anguish, torment, and such things were in his cards. She admired his restraint on the pew as he squeezed it, his arm bulging from using his muscle on it. She idly wondered what great strength lay hidden in it. Her hands would have died in pain squeezing the wood like that.
“I wouldn’t even know how to seek the protection of the knights. I’m nobody to them. I will just try to lay low and think on what to do. But thank you for the kind words…” She said wistfully.
With a curious look on her face she tilted her head to him to catch his eyes in hers. Once she had them she said, “You know...I think you have a great cause, a great quest of goodness. Your father is surely in the house of your god...Not only for his valiant behavior, but his willingness not to allow evil to spread, putting his own body in front of such a force. I would not want to ever dissuade you from your purpose, but I can’t be sure...Maybe I have this one thing against you from what little I have perceived.” She paused a moment and said, “I think it has come to a point of sickness in you. Don’t you think?” She couldn’t speak with certainty as she wasn’t sure of her own abilities to perceive who he was inside, it was just a feeling. “I think if I was your father, I’d want you to avenge me with great passion, but more than the willingness to avenge me, I’d want you to fight evils wherever they arose. In doing so you would surely come and return that which is taken from him.” She paused again and held up a finger, “What if your quest for vengeance leads you down a path of darkness, one that you must decide whether you must make a bad decision to complete your goal. Would you do it? Would you do evil to avenge your father? No...that is not you. So I’m saying, let your bitterness go. Bitterness leads to anger, anger leads to rage, and rage to wrath. When you have become wrathful against someone it is...dangerous. Inside” she pointed gently at her heart.
“I do not have such great anger for my attacker. He was not born this way. He was a child, raised in a family, had friends and life, but somewhere along the way he fell aside. He made bad decisions. I could be wrathful at him and desire his demise, but instead I have forgiven him. He didn’t know what he was doing, and while he may still wish me dead. I would rather die knowing my heart was pure in love, than tainted in the same anger that…” She couldn’t think of the word for defiled, “Sickened him to me.” With that she reached up a tentative hand and to pat his arm, yet was afraid initially to touch him. She waited a hesitated moment to see if he violently reacted against her touch, but if not she would firmly grasp his forearm and give it a squeeze; if she could. Her hand was not just cold, but as though she had been dead for days and left out in the winter cold. After the squeeze, she returned it back under the cloak he left her with.
Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts
