3rd of Spring, 514 AV
4th Bell
There are a million facets within us all. Even if he were to be put to a sword, Caesarion could -- by his will -- unleash a murderous rampage through the walls of the city. Anyone could, because people in Syliras did not understand what sort of a monster a human could be. They loved peace and harmony, and it was fortunate that they existed in such a state. Where Caesarion was born, that was not the case. Men and women both, they reveled in chaos. They reveled in the misery of others. It was a religious ideology gone city-wide, and it was perpetuated by fear and wroth. In this state however, they were strong. They were prepared for chaos and entropy, whereas in Syliras, they were only paper men protected by the shields of Knights. The people here were weaker than in Ravok. Yet, Caesar came to love them, as he was much like them. He too believed in the goodness of humans, even when there was so much evil. This was because -- by all means -- only goodness could dispel evil. Only the comfort of another could dispel loneliness. Only the guidance of another could instill hope, and bring one back to his feet.
There was darkness and light to be seen everywhere. There was a constant war between these two forces, and every man woman and child made the choice to serve one or the other. Some would like to stay neutral, but there was no such thing as pure neutrality. They leaned in some way towards either side. Their leanings were dictated by the choices they made now, in the flesh. To decipher them, one only needed to look in their eyes.
"What do you consider yourself, Caesarion?" asked Gallagher. They had been discussing very complicated things, and at length. It was the prerogative of young men to go at these things at length, to go back and forth between reality and fantasy. To try and decipher -- in a mortal's mind -- what life really was. It may have seemed quite quixotic to explore questions like this, but they had only time and enthusiasm as they explored books and bantered through the long night.
As for what the man thought himself to be... well. "I'm not sure," he replied. It was perhaps a lie, or perhaps a truth, depending on how you looked at it. Caesarion had been a kind and gentle spirit for years, but he exposed his evils early on in life. Debauchery, cruelty, lies and whispers of false things. He worshiped a false God throughout his youth, and then worshiped nothing at all to escape from the stress of loyalty. He was not yet strong enough to consider himself a good man. But, he was trying, moving towards that direction. "I'm an open book." That was one way to say it.
"I'd like to say that I'm quite the desperado," he laughed. It was a joke, it could be nothing else.
Gallagher was... a sweet soul. Since Caesarion had met him, he had known nothing from him but loyalty, compassion, and kindness. If there was any light at the end of the Ravokian's tunnel, it was the smile on Gally's face at the beginning of each and all of their meetings. He had grown fond of him, a level of fondness that moved beyond friendship and into... something very confusing. But, he refused to act on it, as he was somehow too wise to place what they had in jeopardy. The kindness expressed by Gallagher was the last thing he had left. The last thing.
"If I had to decide for you, I'd say that you're a goody-goody. Minimal sexual deviance, strong moral code, perhaps a gullible nature..." He would continue on, but he was struck, playfully. The younger hunter shook his head, keen on disagreeing. "Haha, you're one to talk. Last time I checked, you're still a ripe little apple, yet to be plucked from your tree. As for having a strong moral code, not really. I'm flexible. It depends on who I'm working with." That piqued Caesarion's interest, to an extent. Mostly, he figured Gallagher was joking. But, his more curious half decided to give in and ask:
"Are you giving me bullocks, Gal?"
The other hunter's eyes trained on Caesarion. He thought for a long while about what to say, and how to say it. Then, he sort of just blurted it out. "I'm good to you, Caesar. You're one of the few people I'm considerate of. You've been my friend for a long while, a good long while. So of course, you don't get to see the scheming, dickish side of me. No one really completely understands another person. In order for that to happen, they'd have to be completely exposed to every facet of them. But if you were exposed to all of these facets, then you'd probably find that you don't like them enough to want to learn more. In truth, we people are very... unsightly creatures. We must actively try to change, in order to shroud that fact."
Caesarion wasn't sure what to say, but he was not displeased by what he heard. No, in contrary, he smiled. He did not expect such a deep and philosophical side of Gallagher, who was unusually simple-minded in comparison to his Ravokian friend. Even this session of... reading and exploring was something he sort of just followed Caesarion into. It was good to see that he had something of his own to add.
"I still think you're a good person, Gallagher," Caesarion said.
"Well, I think you're a good person too," the young man immediately replied.
For a moment, they both stared. Stalwartly, their eyes locked. But it was, in an instant, dispelled by a deeper and more insightful curiosity. "I heard you found religion," said Gallagher. It was a way to bring about a new topic, and perhaps rid themselves of the strangeness that festered in the ignorance of their minds. Caesarion and Gallagher... both didn't have a clue about anything, when it came to people. They had never known anyone but slaves or little boring farmhands. This was a new experience, to be fully divested into a person, to enjoy being around them. To want to hear their thoughts more than anything else.
For Caesarion, the desire to map out the body of this friendship was almost all that there was. His more socially competent side had to present itself when questions were asked that needed answering. "I did indeed," he said. "I started to worship an... unexpected entity. It is, first and foremost, a woman of temperance," he coughed out. Gallagher was halfway through his laughing fit before Caesarion even finished that last word -- woman of temperance? "Is this one of those self-loathing religions? Do you cast out your inner drunkard and rapist through daily self-flagellation?"
Gallagher thought it was so funny, but that was because he found everything funny. Caesarion rolled his eyes, and continued on. "It's Priskil, Gal. Priskil." Caesarion didn't sound very enthusiastic, but in truth there was nothing in the world that he loved more than Gallagher making fun of him. Wait, that sounded a little off.
"Oh, Priskil is it? Does she fill you with so much hope that you start leaking? I had this friend once, he had that problem. He --" Right, he didn't exist. He was sort of a fictional character to supplement Gallagher's Caesar-bashing. "Well, anyway. That's nice. Glad you've found a pretty lady to cry to. Though I'll miss being your primary sob-rag." He smirked a little, and Caesarion smirked back. "Until I get my divine commune working, you'll have to do as the sole recipient of my dreadful longing." He laughed, and his friend laughed too.
It was a long night, and they never slept. They kept each other up for hours with little subtle things like this, totally unaware of the fact that it was four, encroaching upon five. They would last like this until one of them realized they had a long day of work ahead, and then at that point it'd be a grind until they could see one another again.
4th Bell
There are a million facets within us all. Even if he were to be put to a sword, Caesarion could -- by his will -- unleash a murderous rampage through the walls of the city. Anyone could, because people in Syliras did not understand what sort of a monster a human could be. They loved peace and harmony, and it was fortunate that they existed in such a state. Where Caesarion was born, that was not the case. Men and women both, they reveled in chaos. They reveled in the misery of others. It was a religious ideology gone city-wide, and it was perpetuated by fear and wroth. In this state however, they were strong. They were prepared for chaos and entropy, whereas in Syliras, they were only paper men protected by the shields of Knights. The people here were weaker than in Ravok. Yet, Caesar came to love them, as he was much like them. He too believed in the goodness of humans, even when there was so much evil. This was because -- by all means -- only goodness could dispel evil. Only the comfort of another could dispel loneliness. Only the guidance of another could instill hope, and bring one back to his feet.
There was darkness and light to be seen everywhere. There was a constant war between these two forces, and every man woman and child made the choice to serve one or the other. Some would like to stay neutral, but there was no such thing as pure neutrality. They leaned in some way towards either side. Their leanings were dictated by the choices they made now, in the flesh. To decipher them, one only needed to look in their eyes.
"What do you consider yourself, Caesarion?" asked Gallagher. They had been discussing very complicated things, and at length. It was the prerogative of young men to go at these things at length, to go back and forth between reality and fantasy. To try and decipher -- in a mortal's mind -- what life really was. It may have seemed quite quixotic to explore questions like this, but they had only time and enthusiasm as they explored books and bantered through the long night.
As for what the man thought himself to be... well. "I'm not sure," he replied. It was perhaps a lie, or perhaps a truth, depending on how you looked at it. Caesarion had been a kind and gentle spirit for years, but he exposed his evils early on in life. Debauchery, cruelty, lies and whispers of false things. He worshiped a false God throughout his youth, and then worshiped nothing at all to escape from the stress of loyalty. He was not yet strong enough to consider himself a good man. But, he was trying, moving towards that direction. "I'm an open book." That was one way to say it.
"I'd like to say that I'm quite the desperado," he laughed. It was a joke, it could be nothing else.
Gallagher was... a sweet soul. Since Caesarion had met him, he had known nothing from him but loyalty, compassion, and kindness. If there was any light at the end of the Ravokian's tunnel, it was the smile on Gally's face at the beginning of each and all of their meetings. He had grown fond of him, a level of fondness that moved beyond friendship and into... something very confusing. But, he refused to act on it, as he was somehow too wise to place what they had in jeopardy. The kindness expressed by Gallagher was the last thing he had left. The last thing.
"If I had to decide for you, I'd say that you're a goody-goody. Minimal sexual deviance, strong moral code, perhaps a gullible nature..." He would continue on, but he was struck, playfully. The younger hunter shook his head, keen on disagreeing. "Haha, you're one to talk. Last time I checked, you're still a ripe little apple, yet to be plucked from your tree. As for having a strong moral code, not really. I'm flexible. It depends on who I'm working with." That piqued Caesarion's interest, to an extent. Mostly, he figured Gallagher was joking. But, his more curious half decided to give in and ask:
"Are you giving me bullocks, Gal?"
The other hunter's eyes trained on Caesarion. He thought for a long while about what to say, and how to say it. Then, he sort of just blurted it out. "I'm good to you, Caesar. You're one of the few people I'm considerate of. You've been my friend for a long while, a good long while. So of course, you don't get to see the scheming, dickish side of me. No one really completely understands another person. In order for that to happen, they'd have to be completely exposed to every facet of them. But if you were exposed to all of these facets, then you'd probably find that you don't like them enough to want to learn more. In truth, we people are very... unsightly creatures. We must actively try to change, in order to shroud that fact."
Caesarion wasn't sure what to say, but he was not displeased by what he heard. No, in contrary, he smiled. He did not expect such a deep and philosophical side of Gallagher, who was unusually simple-minded in comparison to his Ravokian friend. Even this session of... reading and exploring was something he sort of just followed Caesarion into. It was good to see that he had something of his own to add.
"I still think you're a good person, Gallagher," Caesarion said.
"Well, I think you're a good person too," the young man immediately replied.
For a moment, they both stared. Stalwartly, their eyes locked. But it was, in an instant, dispelled by a deeper and more insightful curiosity. "I heard you found religion," said Gallagher. It was a way to bring about a new topic, and perhaps rid themselves of the strangeness that festered in the ignorance of their minds. Caesarion and Gallagher... both didn't have a clue about anything, when it came to people. They had never known anyone but slaves or little boring farmhands. This was a new experience, to be fully divested into a person, to enjoy being around them. To want to hear their thoughts more than anything else.
For Caesarion, the desire to map out the body of this friendship was almost all that there was. His more socially competent side had to present itself when questions were asked that needed answering. "I did indeed," he said. "I started to worship an... unexpected entity. It is, first and foremost, a woman of temperance," he coughed out. Gallagher was halfway through his laughing fit before Caesarion even finished that last word -- woman of temperance? "Is this one of those self-loathing religions? Do you cast out your inner drunkard and rapist through daily self-flagellation?"
Gallagher thought it was so funny, but that was because he found everything funny. Caesarion rolled his eyes, and continued on. "It's Priskil, Gal. Priskil." Caesarion didn't sound very enthusiastic, but in truth there was nothing in the world that he loved more than Gallagher making fun of him. Wait, that sounded a little off.
"Oh, Priskil is it? Does she fill you with so much hope that you start leaking? I had this friend once, he had that problem. He --" Right, he didn't exist. He was sort of a fictional character to supplement Gallagher's Caesar-bashing. "Well, anyway. That's nice. Glad you've found a pretty lady to cry to. Though I'll miss being your primary sob-rag." He smirked a little, and Caesarion smirked back. "Until I get my divine commune working, you'll have to do as the sole recipient of my dreadful longing." He laughed, and his friend laughed too.
It was a long night, and they never slept. They kept each other up for hours with little subtle things like this, totally unaware of the fact that it was four, encroaching upon five. They would last like this until one of them realized they had a long day of work ahead, and then at that point it'd be a grind until they could see one another again.
Enjoy your grades!
