A Question of Faith. (solo)

[Alexander Faircroft]

59th Winter 515AV
11:33AM
Mythrin Outpost

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

Alex sat on a bench looking out over the ruins of the outpost. The frigid air whipping at him. His head in his hands he was thinking. The spark of light, of hope within him had begun to flag. To wane. He swallowed hard looking down into his hands. His eyes closed and his mind racing. He slumped His hands now hanging between his knees as he now stared at the ground. His normally soft voice even more fragile. Like spun glass. “So many lives lost…So many people dead. Families broken. To what end, what purpose.” He cast his eyes across the now as if a flake would grant him meaning, insight, and understanding.

“Why…”Alex raised a hand to his chin lifting his head out to look over the ruined outpost. “Why the devastation. What point is there in this ruin? In this field of death? Yahal, Priskil, Sylir, Eyris, why? I know you all give ups challenges. Give us problems to work through. But my faith is waning. I can’t take death on this scale. All I ask is a sign. A single glimmer that all of the efforts myself and the other people who put in to save people weren’t wasted in a vain attempt to make a difference.”

Alex Sank lowly into the bench, the chill winds curling around him again he sat in abject silence now staring out over the broken buildings once again. From behind footsteps followed up, the slow crunching of snow beneath armoured boots. Plate clanking as it stepped behind him. A plate coated hand clasped his shoulder and the frame then sat beside him. The frame of Tristan Whitevine broader in frame but shorter in height than Alex himself. “I know that look squire.” Tristan’s soft voice laced with a firm edge. A hardness to it from years of service and duty. Alex made a motion to stand and salute but Tristan held firm to his shoulder. “Not right now lad.”

“You’re squire Faircroft?” Alex nodded lightly, his face turned to the older man. “You’re Greyheart’s lad? Good man that one. One of my squires in my days in the city. Good to see he’d raising a squire like himself.” Tristan removed his hand staking a posture similar to Alex’s own, looking out over the outpost. He sighed heavily and Alex held a look of curiosity on him. “Thanks lad. Your efforts in helping. If you hadn’t dashed off when you did I don’t think that there would be as many survivors as there are if you hadn’t jumped in when you did. I’ll make sure word gets back to Greyheart about that.” Alex smiled lightly but spoke in response.

“I didn’t do it for recognition. I didn’t do it because it would help me in how I appeared to people, or the order. I did it because it was the right thing to do. Though I’m beginning to wonder what “right” even is any more.” Alex sighed out slowly, his gaze out over the streets.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

Tristan sat back into the bench now looking out. “It’s not a question of right or wrong. Its about what you believe in. If you start to question your conviction. Your path, then you’ll never find a way through this life.” Tristan sighed lightly and Alex spoke again.
“I don’t know what to believe in. I try to save everyone, I feel I need to save everyone.” Alex stared at the ground now, the blanket of snow digging into his soul. “It’s my repentance…” Tristan tilted his head and looked at him. A glance of confusion. “Repentance for what son?” A look of concern replacing the confusion.
“I’ve failed some people. I’ve been indecisive when action could have meant I’d save lives.” He lifted his gaze back out over the broken landscape. “I’ve been trying to repent, and apologize to those I’ve failed.”

Alex lifted the loop of gods from his neck holding them in his hands. “This used to be my mother’s…The first person I failed…And now I wear this every day. It’s a constant reminder of the sins I carry. Of all the people who’ve died because I couldn’t act.” Alex looked down at the loop. A deep sadness gripping his heart. He closed his eyes biting back the tears. He had to be strong. He had to be brave.
“It’s not your fault kid.” Tristan broke through the lingering silence. “If a choice is made for you. Then it’s not your fault if you can’t save everyone. You’ll save some people, maybe even most, but you’ll never save em all. It’s one of the harsh truths you learn as you get older. No matter what you do, no matter how well you do it. Someone is going to suffer somewhere. Were men, not gods.” Tristan placed a hand on Alex’s back. Even through the thick layers of armour he still felt it. Less the actual touch and more the sense of reassurance.

“But that’s where it’s my fault. I didn’t make the choice when I had the option. I didn’t act when I could have, I didn’t do what should have been done. I wouldn’t break one of my morals, and people died for it.” Tristan looked at Alex’s back and could see the doubt filling him. He could even tell exactly what Alex was referring too.
“But if you had broken that moral then what would have made you any better? What would have separated you from them? It’s a hard thing to take a life son. But it’s harder to stick to your beliefs.” Tristan rose from the bench. “If you don’t believe me. Take a walk through the outpost. You’ll see a lot of people who wouldn’t be here if you didn’t act when you did. Take it from me Faircroft. You’ll regret it more if you discard your beliefs just to save someone. I know I did.” And with the finishing of his sentence Tristan started to walk off from the bench. Alex snapped his head around to watch the silver haired older man walk off.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

What did he mean by he’d regretted it? Alex paused on the edge of thought, the light of Syna at hit’s highest point and beginning its descent. He sighed slightly and looked out over the outpost, deciding that Tristan was right he rose. Starting his decent into the outpost’s houses. His hood up under his armour he stepped through the streets looking like just another squire. The small sound of families mourning their losses and looking at the broken remains of their homes. Alex couldn’t help but feel sorry for them and like he could have done more. As he stepped through he felt a clamp around his leg. Looking down he spotted the girl whom he’d helped out of the house a couple of days ago hugging his leg.

“Linda! Don’t do that!” A woman’s voice called out from behind him. Flicking his head over it was the woman who’d lost her husband. Alex looked at her. He expected pain, he expected sorrow but he saw a spark of joy in her face even through the regret and the sorrow. “Oh it’s you.” Three simple words that could have hit like a hammer. That could have torn his very soul apart if in a different tone, but no. These were delivered with an air of thankfulness and sincerity that caught him off guard. “Thank you again. If you hadn’t been there we could have all died in that house…So thank you for saving my daughter.” He looked confused, shocked even. He was expecting a scolding, scorn. Something that he felt he had coming to him but no.

Instead he found thanks and a respite. As she walked up others closed around him giving him a pat on the shoulders and a thanks for the work he’d done in saving people over the last couple of days. He felt like he hadn’t earnt it like he didn’t deserve it. “Guys…Just…No. I don’t deserve this. I didn’t do anything, if I’d of been there sooner if I’d of pushed harder I could have saved more…” He hung his head and heard a voice speak to him from below a small voice innocent and honest. “My daddy’s gone…But it’s not your fault. You saved my mommy.” Alex looked down at her and the tinge of guilt he felt was shattered. He dropped to her height and gave her a soft smile tears in the corners of his eyes. “Then go spend time with your mommy. I’m just sorry I couldn’t save your dad.” He looked at her with an honesty and softly pushed her to her mother. Turning his back to them he continued walking, standing tall now. Not marching but walking with pride.

As soon as he rounded one of the houses and was out of sight he leant against it. And slid down, tears flowing from the corners of his eyes. Why couldn’t I have done more? Why couldn’t I have saved more?! He hunched his head over sitting in the snow, the words of the child ringing in his mind. He’d saved her and her mother but if he’d of been there sooner he could have perhaps saved her father. Out of frustration and guilt he slammed his fist into the shattered ruins of the house and buried his head in his arm and knees.

[Konrad Venger]

Nice job! Your work has pleased The Sloth! Alexander XP: Philosophy - 3 Socialization - 2 Observation - 1 Lore: If Ye be Good, Why Allow Evil? Tristan Whitevine: A Lifetime of Loyalty and Sacrifice You Can't Save Them All Thanks Enough to Lift a Heart... ... But Not Enough to Mend It Click Me! : Mmm, yes, the angst is strong with this one! Not that I mind it, and to be honest, your solos are often better than your other collaborations and your training grinders. The last post especially was a real heart-wrencher. Nice work, mate. Oh, and please make sure you go back and edit your post in the Request Thread to reflect the fact this one is now done and dusted. PM me with any questions and later 'tater!