Solo [Sacred Arch Hotspring] Finding Resolve

[Fallon]

1st Fall 513 AV
Morning.

In the midst of the morning Fallon stopped and stared. Nowadays the squire was not the sort to drag herself out from the safety of the quarters, or far from the training grounds. But this day, this day was different. Looking down into the depths of the springs, she stared, her reflection flickering in and out of view, the water rippling to the gentle heat that consumed them. Summer had gone and past and a mental innocence to the world did not last. It was shattered quickly and destroyed in a heartbeat. Now all she had to do was wake up and allow herself to face the world once more. Despite her fears, her worries and pains. From the rolling thunder cry and the pouring rain, Fallon could not run. She had hidden herself from the world for far too long now, she had closed her heart off from others. Seathing in emotions and pain she brought herself to exist, bitter and distressed. Even in the face of pure unwavering danger.

Yet here she was now. A survivor. One who had stared into the face of absolute terror and defeat on more than one occasion in the previous season. She had been beaten, she had been torn. She had felt her blood bubble, her ego be brushed away in the wind leaving only a shell of what she once was. She had struggled with ghosts, run through thunder and rain. She had turned in the darkness of a cave and came face to face with a terrifying monster.

And so here, once more she stood.

Lips pursed, her form crouching down whilst her legs cracked. There was plenty of times when she would have wished for something different, for events to be changed and replaced. To have the boring normality of training and the daily life of a squire. To avoid close calls of revealing herself and who, or what she exactly was. Then again, who would not? It was a fools dream to say the least, but one that many would have considered at least once.

Fingers clenched, and then traced the cool stone. But she would not trade away this season. Not yet at least. She had crawled through her darkness. She had raised the blade high and brought it swinging down. She had won when others had lost. There was an intake of breath, the taste of the crisp air upon her tongue. Summer had passed, the last loose grips of the heat grasping onto it, before the red leaves of autumn would set itself upon them. The harvest season, one that she knew well. It rekindled friendships on many an occasion in Syliras. And this time – she hoped - would be no different.

Her pieces would be picked up and placed back together. Slowly and carefully. There was no rush. She felt the nudge of Orvin next to her, his dark eyes looking up at her and then to the sky. With the coming of autumn came the signs of winter, and at last another year would have passed. She would be a year older; Orvin himself would have just made his first year as a pup – if he could even be called that anymore. He had indeed grown large from his previous runt status, no doubt due to her looking after him and supplying a slightly better lifestyle than the one of the wilds.

But how long would it last? Those events had left their mark, and some of the after effects were more worrying than others. And out of those some the even fewer had yet to be answered. Fingers pressed against her eye lids, a long draw out sigh. How much longer would the brave face have to be put on? The one that covered the truth of how she felt. Was she only killing time only to have it kill her right back?

[Fallon]

Over her dead body.

Her fist clenched and she forced herself to stand. She had come this far, why stop now?

She heard the distinctive snort of Orvin, the watchful eyes of the wolf having turned onto something else. It was time to move on, to look once more upon those routes that had guided her here. She gave a click of the tongue as she pulled herself way from the edge. Steel clinked in its sheath, the weight of the Tulwar once more hitting her. Her favoured blade as a squire, but the Kukri still had pride of place at the top. She pulled at the rough material of her coat and then tapped the studded armour. Things were in need of being maintained, leather was indeed of polish and the edge of the blade was in need of perhaps some sharpening.

Not that she had yet to actually use it in combat. It was still nice to keep it in good condition though.

With a whistle on her lips, the squire led herself slightly southwards, feeling the growing weight of equipment upon her shoulders. That worn shield, the strung bow and arrows. It was all there ready to be used to their full potential. Not that she was able to do that at present. There was still an awful lot to learn. There was a swallow as she rolled her left shoulder, a gentle flinch as the skin beneath tightened and twisted for a brief piercing tick. The scar was still present, always there never to truly lift.

Another one to add to her collection.

Fingers reached down to scratch the wolf between the ears before finally her step quickened. There was no use waiting around, people would begin to question her whereabouts should she remain absent for too long. The others did not need any other additional stresses. Eyes turned to the shadowing wall of Syliras, the place of safety that she often considered home. But for how much longer now? Another season or two? Longer? Or shorter?

Even the cramped walls of the city was beginning to make her feel uncomfortable. The stone coffin that had confined her day in and day out. There was a long held breath, the feeling of feet upon the turned earth and the undergrowth as the low steps took her onto the Kabrin. So easy it would have been to run and to never look back. To simply give up the dream and the hopes to dip into her own despair until ready to emerge once more. No, she could not run. Not anymore. Besides, running right now would have done little good for her. If anything it would only cause more hurt than harm. She had to get through the events; she had make herself move on. To forgo weakness and keep a brave face. Her throat constricted in her moment of solitude, her palm covering her eyes.

Petch, what was she doing?

She could not keep up the mask; she could not keep the brave face. She was a coward, she was weak and pitiful. And when feeling weak there was nothing but the ringing thought to run and hide. Perhaps that was why she sought solace alone today, absent from the waking world. And hopefully not making them worry. Gods she hated this fate. To be lead on by dreams, the constant nagging that everything was indeed alright. What a lie that all was.

Where were the knights at that late night hour? Where were they to guard the people against danger? She felt the imaginary grip grasp at her, the remembrance of those events long passed. They could not even keep their own squires safe. They did not care, the stood for their honour and duties, their good at ruling and keeping the peace. And where did that put her? Fallon felt the build up of moisture, and allowed herself to slump against the tree. Gods, she could not do this any more. Could she?

[Fallon]

Where was faith when it trembled? Where was the sense of honour and pride? Her heart wavered slightly, a nervous tremble whilst she held her head being held firmly in her hands. It took several, long, painful chimes for her to compose herself. No, to find a state of calm to raise the mask once more. To be able to seal shut those thoughts and feelings. There was a rattle of breath, her mind turning over in her silence.

The wet snout of Orvin drew her back, with the low whine of the wolf reaching her ears. As his head rested upon her shoulder, the squire found it hard to resist wrapping an arm around him. She pulled the beast close, burrowing her face into his fur, whilst her fingers knotted in. The pup however did not move, or not too much at least. There was the prod with a paw, and the rough tongue upon her cheek. And although the creature most probably did not register what it meant to her, it was still pleasant. She did not whimper, she did not scream and shout, she just simply held onto the wolf and tuned out the world. It was safer that way, for others and as well as herself. There would be less to worry about, less concerns, less pains, less everything else.

Wiping her eyes she took in a moment of composure. She needed to be the shield for the people – even if she was just in training. She released Orvin, taking a moment of careful regard over him. Her lip curled, her brow raising as she forced a straight face, ”You’ll be here, won’t you? Of course you will. Have been ever since then. Won’t leave me the petch alone, eh?” She turned her head to the sky, her hand rising to shelter her vision from the light. There was a forced laugh, ”We’ll make it. We always do make it. Always. Just got to take it one step at a time. One step at a time.”

Once more she made herself rise, a forced and false determination leading and luring her out. She inhaled in the air, face still creased and marred with the signs of stress, but at least she could find a point to focus on. To train and to immerse herself in combat, to learn the ways of the order and to not look back. The world would not wait for her any longer. Shoulders rolled, her fist clenched shut.

”With myself, you and gods as my witnesses… I will get through this,” she inclined her head down to Orvin, forcing the stride of movement once more. Life was calling and all she could do now was take the mighty dance through it and emerge from the other side. The world was there, ripe for the taking; all she had to do was simply reach out and grasp it. ”Let’s get this show on the road shall we? Let us show a performance like never before, and win.” Orvin gave a sigh, head nodding almost in mockery to her words. She shot a glance down to him, lips pursing into a straight line, ”Fine. I’ll prove it to you too then. I’ll make it a tale worth telling. Just you watch. Damned beast…”

And it was with that the squire turned her gaze once more to the citadel and begun the slow trek back.