Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

It had been a long night, but then again, every night was during the recent trials. Every night was just pointless wandering for the young man, be it in the real, or in the world of dreams. He was now just a wanderer, nothing more, and that life was much harder than the one he had led before. It had its advantages, such as the lack of politics and the chain of command, but it had its weaknesses just as well, and the weaknesses were the ones people mostly thought about when thinking about his lifestye. He was basically homeless, without any food, but one good thing was that he had money, and money was a free ticket to anything in this world.

The free ticket to drunkenness? Most certainly, the retired skyrider thought, as he was making his way towards Ye Old Inn. It was the place that accepted the homeless such as himself with delight, so long as they had the money. Fred? What in the name of the.. It was Velma, Faith, Velma. She was waving towards him from a couple of meters away and as she made her way towards him, Aeon tried to put on a smile, but only the Immortals knew how successful he was. He wasn't feeling all that happy, if he was being honest with himself.

"Ve-Faith.. I..I am well enough, I've been worse, one could say. What about you?" The slave, or, according to the words she was about to speak, the former slave was always quite cheerful, and happy, but this early trial, she appeared extra happy. Then, as Aeon heard her talk about freedom, he realized it must have been the reason. As much as she convinced herself that Tristan Venora was nice and good, she was always a slave to him, and she always did a slave's work, no wonder she was more cheerful now. Plus, she wasn't wearing the ridiculously expensive dresses and heels and all the accessories Aeon presumed her master put all over her to make her look fancy. It was such a Tristan thing to do.

"If I heard you well, you're free now, you can do whatever you wish, which means, if you wish, of course you can call me Fred." Suddenly, the sense of crippling depression was gone, as the woman's smile wondered into his mind. Still, the need for a drink was there, and the inn so close. But Velma just walked out of the inn, he shouldn't be dragging her inside, not to watch him get drunk, certainly.

"Yes, I, I haven't been at the barracks for a couple of trials. How did this happen? Did you run? Did Tristan free you? Why did he free you?" Tristan Venora most definitely didn't appear to be the kind of person to just free his slave, not one that was the best cook in the world, at least. And once again, this Faith girl had made the worst feelings go away, even if it was just briefly, with her stories. Much like the first time the two had met.

As sudden as a bolt of lightning, Aeon felt the warm skin of Faith's brushing against his own as she took his hand and offered to talk him through the, surely, exciting events of gaining her freedom. There was always excitement with Velma and Tristan, that was for sure. "Of course." He said, as he followed the smaller woman into the coffee shop. He wasn't exactly feeling a cup of tea, he needed something more..alcoholic, but if that was what made Velma happy, he could do it without complaining.

"That is..incredible. I have to be honest, I always wanted you to be free, I always thought you deserved to be free, but now that you're free it's just.. so incredible." The young man said after he followed on whatever the black-haired woman had ordered in the shop. It was also very unexpected, especially for Tristan, to just free his best, and certainly most beloved slave based on a suggestion made by one of his many cousins. Aeon had never heard of this Alistair Venora, was he supposed to? There were so many nobles, the boy just thought it was impossible for anyone to know them all.

He was glad that the woman wanted to help people, she certainly had the potential to do so, but the next question she asked raised a red flag above the wall that got above the tent below which was the underground lair of Aeon's thoughts. Yes, he kept the recent thoughts so well guarded, it would take him breaks to get out of them. "It..It's truly nothing important, I've just.. got pieces of the past still lingering. I'm just taking my time adjusting to everything, and moving on. I'm sure I'll be fine, and with a friend like yourself, it'll be a piece of cake!" A piece of cake, Aeon chuckled on the inside. A piece of cake was the first bit of food he ever tasted from Velma. Still, even though he kept laughter on the inside, the young man couldn't help but smile, and be glad to just be able to feel the warmth of Faith's hand, and look into her eyes. It just calmed him, perhaps because she was one of the only friends he knew he still had. Would Tristan still be friendly towards him, now that Aeon was stripped of his title, and his home? Would Ruq? Would anyone?

"Velma, I'm glad that you want to help people, but this place, the kingdom, it is often very dangerous for those that don't play its games. If you ever need me for anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call for me, and I'll be there. It is like you said, we have to stick together." The smile was briefly gone from the man's face, as his expression tightened, as did his grip on the woman's hand, but in less than a trill, it went back to normal. He was deadly serious about this matter, as he had witnessed first hand what politics could do to heroes, and what the chain of command could do to those that wished nothing more but to help. Ryqos was a hero, one that wouldn't fail to act because of fear, and simply because he did not play the games the men of his rank did, he was dead right now. Aeon wouldn't allow for Velma to die. He'd rather die himself, if he was being honest.

Velma’s words were astonishing, and yet Aeon could not simply go with them. As much as they were what he wanted, needed to hear, he knew the words would simply spoil him and because of that knowledge, there were two doors ahead of him, instead of one. He could listen and drown in what Faith had to say about him, and just slide back into the little boy he once was, amazed by heroic stories. No doubt that little boy would’ve obeyed Malcolm’s every word, and that boy would now do anything to fix that mistake, but the other door, it lead him to the person he had never before seen. A man, one that wasn’t so easily impressed just because there is a tale that talks of a hero. One that wouldn’t even view his actions towards his warden as a mistake, more as a lesson. The pride is the foundation of a title. In this realm, one cannot hold such a large title for long without a great foundation made of pride. Once that foundation is tampered with, the title itself collapses, so the men that hold those titles will do anything to keep their pride intact.

”That is why I’m worried, Velma. I helped you because I saw a woman that struggled with her bags, the fact that you were a slave should not have affected anyone who wanted to do the same. And clearly, it had. I just didn’t see that before. You may have been told you were an object, you may have been treated like one, but you never actually were an object. If there are hundreds of men and women who can’t see that fact, where is this kingdom going?” The sleepless eye blinked several times, as the salty water nearly escaped it. Rynmere was Aeon’s home, and he’d do anything to protect it, but what would it do to protect its own people? So many good men died, and bad men lived, it became hard to tell which was which, since the bad men were the ones in charge. The bad men, the countless lives taken from the kingdom, it was their fault, and now they got to decide on who the good men were and were not. Unacceptable by every standard Aeon decided to follow.

The boy’s lips went into a small smile filled with sadness. He was alone, very alone, but dragging such a good friend into the deep pits of hell along with him wouldn’t even cross Aeon’s mind. Velma was in a good place, she was free, she was happy, and the scarred warrior would rather die the most horrible death than ruin it for her. He opened his mouth to talk, but then as words got trapped behind the cold Vhalar air, he closed it once more.

No matter how much he needed a friend’s advice, a hug, and perhaps several breaks of pointless conversation, his problems weren’t worth sharing. He’d be sharing an infinite number of worries, coupled with eternal guilt and several gallons of angst. Velma did not deserve it.

”I’m sorry, I am, but I’d rather not talk about it. Besides, now that you’re free, you have your own problems, and it’d be selfish of me to make you hold mine too.”

With all the stress and the hard feelings the young man was going through at that very moment, one of the hardest ones were not being able to share it all with her. Velma was always nice to him, always a good friend, and even though he knew it was for her sake that he kept quiet, Aeon was simply feeling bad about it. It was clear she only wanted to help, and just because of that, small drops of water formed in the one eye he had, only to evaporate into the air and join with his skin trills later, having done nothing in their short lives.

"Velma, I promise you, once I've got a handle on my problems, I will tell you, I will tell you everything you want to know, everything you deserve to know, and everything else. I just... I can't, not yet." He felt the weight of the world fall repeatedly over his shoulders at that very moment, as if it was only reminding him of what could've been avoided if he did several things differently. What would've happened to him if he listened to his father, and lived a simple, yet happy life? What if he had chosen the easy way, instead of the right one, and became a farmer when he had the best opportunity for it, instead of venturing into the unknown.

Then, as if she skipped his promise, the small, dark-haired woman went into a treasure hunt within her bag. Only now did Aeon realize how beautiful Faith was, since before, all he could see when he looked at her was Tristan's imagination. She was always what he imagined her to be, and that really ruined every thought of her the boy could have. But just the way she acted made her beautiful now, as she was doing what she desired, and when their heart's desire is fulfilled, people often look way more beautiful than usually. She must have found true happiness within whatever she was doing, or within whomever she was spending her time with. All he could be was proud, and Aeon was proud of her, proud that she finally found her way in this life. She deserved it, he thought.

The scroll she spoke of sounded quite magical, and the first few thoughts were of its dangers. All the boy knew about magic was that it was incredibly dangerous, even more than riding a training volareon into a battlefield and fighting a creature of the Immortals. What dangers did the scroll pose? But then again, Velma didn't seem scared, and Aeon trusted her, with his life even, as he showed back in Oscillus, when he jumped into the enemy lines with knowledge that she would be the one who'd be holding his life. His doubts of the item didn't matter, all that mattered was that she wasn't afraid of it, and that she wanted him to have it. And so Aeon took the scroll for closer examination, but it didn't seem in any way different than a normal one.

"Thank you. I.. I just... I just want you to know, I'm very grateful to the Seven, or whatever Immortal put you in my path that trial. You really mean a lot to me Velma, but I don't know how to show that besides shielding you from the pain I feel. I'm sorry." From all he could gather, Velma was the only friend he was certain would help him if the need would arise. He hadn't heard from Ruq and Hart in a while, and who knew if they were even real friends to begin with, while Tristan was a noble, and he lived in a completely different world. Supposedly, Aeon might've been able to call Rafael a friend, but for all their friendship, they only met three times, and all of those times during and because of a war. If it wasn't for Velma, the boy who was once cheerful and social, would've been all alone. And he appreciated that greatly, beyond what words could express.

He put the scroll on the inside pocket of his cloak, one that before would've been filled with his skyrider wings. He supposed he could remain in Andaris, serve as a squire once more, and earn those wings all over again, but that would be breaking his own rules. He didn't do all the things that earned him those wings in the first place for nothing, and he wouldn't accept the fact that a man full of lies and pride such as Malcolm got to take them away just for telling the truth. Rynmere had no use of Aeon, and neither did Aeon want Rynmere, so it was time they said goodbye, at least for the moment.

"I don't know when I'll see you next, but I'll write whenever I get the chance, that's a promise. Goodbye Velma."