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 Posted: Wed Jan 29, 2014 9:52 am
This Quest is for Rastian who is striving to become a Monk.
 OOC
||. The quest prompt must be answered with a 2000 word reply (can be more).
||. Respond to the prompt given with an adventure of your own creation as long as it meets the requirements of the specific tasks.
||. NPCs may be used as long as they advance the quest in an interesting manner.
||. You cannot include any playable characters other than the quest taker.
||. Your responses will be graded on a letter grade scale: a grade of D or F will result in repeating the quest process, C or better will result in passing and possible rewards.
||. Questions about quests can be asked here.
IC
The mood was somber in Sauti, and it was as though even the earth knew it, having done nothing but rained for the past three days straight, something rare in most of Tendaji. It would vary from down pours to drizzling, but the water seemed to hang in the air, not wanting to dry anything up.
Most were falling ill from the common cold, others catching something a little more strenuous like stomach bugs and the like, though there was one in particular that needed help. A man was laying in the bed of a healing house, a man very familiar to Rastian, and wasn't doing very well. His body was frail, twisted, and bent, seeming to be impossibly older than what he actually was. He would lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness, the little consciousness he experienced not lucid in the slightest, and as if by some sick twist of coincidence, Rastian was entrusted with his care, something a person training to be in the healing arts couldn't refuse.
Quest Tasks
||. The man that has fallen ill is the one from Rastian's painful memories as a child. He is not lucid and cannot answer back to anything spoken to him.
||. Rastian cannot refuse to care for the man, and must humble himself and take responsibility for the path he has chosen by doing everything in his power to heal him.
||. The quest should end with the man dying - there is no cure for what he has - but Rastian should have made his passage easier despite his history with the ill man in the past.
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Posted: Wed Jan 29, 2014 1:29 pm
Pt.1: A Turbulent Task
There wasn't much to hate about the rain aside from major storms. The way it trickled down a window or tapped a rhythm a top a roof top, it was almost like an artist with the way it added an effect to the days it happened to want hang around. It could make you sad or contemplative, it could make you disappointed or angry, but, if given the proper amount, it could wash things away. Clean slates were often formed in the rain, along with the beginnings and the ends of many things. Beginnings and ends, continuations and reflections, all within the pitter-patter of the rain.
Rastian felt at peace when close to a source of water, and hearing it's soothing sounds just outside his window gave him a calm, centered sensation. He often peered outside, while racing to and fro for one thing or another, to take a deep breath in. Misty and refreshing, cool and rejuvenating, he couldn't fathom a soul who could dislike the rain. Perhaps Natsu, but he was practically born in water, so saying that a little rain would damper his spirits was like saying that he couldn't tolerate a stubborn haggler. Trading was about negotiations, and those often led to a few roadblocks in the form of debates. It was all a part of the game, you couldn't walk away knowing you didn't fight for your fair share of the deal.
It was during one of those breaks where he was tasked with a new patient, a man who had just been brought in from Tale. The description of the patient he had been given was vague and riddled with notes written by the other Healers he had been seen by. Can't remain awake. Unable to communicate, even with prompting. Frail, twisted, isn't an elder as I first expected him to be. His eyebrow arched upwards as he finished reading, was he about to go in to meet a comatose man? He twisted his mouth a little and made a popping noise, before continuing down the hall.
His first stop would be the library, where he could grab all the information he might need. Herbal remedies for narcolepsy, vitamins for the joints, and anything else with information related to the symptoms written down were grabbed and added to the pile, before he went back out into the hallway. The steady rain from before began to pour down, mimicking the crashing of thunder clouds as it pounded against the glass. Rastian leaned out towards the windows again, his expression between awed and bewildered. Something felt strange, but he just couldn't place it. He shook his head and entered a nearby room.
"Evening sir, I'll be the Healer looking after you!" He chirped, kneeing the door open gently. The room was quite dark, more so by the bed than by the door, and offered little comfort to the ill feeling growing in the bottom of Rastian's stomach. He felt around for a table and placed the books down, before turning to a nearby chest to look for a candle or two. "I'll only be a moment, it's pitch black in here!"
He dug around in the chest and eventually found three candles towards the bottom, which he quickly lit and placed around the room. However, he held onto the smaller of the three and moved over towards his patient. The candle provided little light, but enough to show the man's stronger features. As his eyes went over his patient, again and again, his body began to shake. After a dozen or so rechecks, just to make sure he was certain, he blew out his candle and sat down on the ground. ... It was... It was...
The facial features were unmistakable, though horribly aged, and he bore the same exact tattoo. This man, his new patient, was the same man who had abused him as a child, and despite that fact, he now had to heal him...
At first Rastian wanted to run and find someone else to take care of the man. He couldn't, it wasn't right, it just wasn't! How could he heal someone who had wanted nothing more than to use his body for a sick fetish? How could he help him when he had done nothing but harm him? He fought with this for close to an hour, before he re-lit the candle and took a good look at the man.
"You look absolutely pathetic..." He grumbled, tears visible in his eyes. His conscience was getting to him the more he looked at the man. He ran his fingers over the man's old, weathered skin and looked him straight in the eyes. They were foggy, incoherent, and seemingly devoid of all life that was once there. Rastian removed his hands from his patient's arm and moved to stoke what hair was left on his head.
"We'll begin in the morning, when there's more light..." He said, sighing. "... I can't place blame upon a person who can't remember what he's done to deserve it. I'll see to it that I find out what's wrong with you, and help you make the best of it."
The Healer stood and moved to sit at the table. Maybe there would be something about his disease in one of these books? He peered up at the man, who hadn't moved since he came in, and opened the book on herbal cures for narcolepsy.
Pt.1 total: 908
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Posted: Wed Jan 29, 2014 2:32 pm
Pt.2: Options
Morning bells rang out to announce that the day had begun far later than Rastian had decided to wake. The book he had been reading was filled with things that he didn't have or couldn't use due to the amount of time he didn't have and the distance he would need to travel to locate the items, and was tossed aside for later reference. His patient had stable vital signs, but showed no signs of lucidity, even though he was capable of grunting from time to time. The Healer ran his fingers through his hair while he wrote down his notes, before readjusting the man and heading out to the library again.
It was still raining, but not quite as heavily as before, and the increased light was a welcomed sight. He would be able to read far more easily by the window than by dim candle light. Slipper clad feet meandered towards the back of the library and fumbled through the scrolls.
"Foot treatments, hair growth, sleep aids..." He mumbled as he perused, occasionally taking a scroll or two from the line as he went. Within five minutes of searching, Rastian had gathered too many scrolls, and was forced to make a pile in the reading corner. He continued on his search, pulling more and more as he went, and carried each pile back to the same spot until he had reached the opposite side of the library. After he double, triple, and quadruple checked the shelves for anything he might have missed, he hurried over to his pile and began to read through each scroll he had pulled off the shelves.
Hours dragged by while he read and recorded each plausible solution he could find. Herbal based, magic based, reflexology, special rhythms, so many different options, so little space in his record book to record it all! He often had to lean back and stare good and long at the ceiling above him before opening the next book or scroll of the tens he had procured. Before he knew it, dusk was swiftly approaching, and he had spent the entire day doing nothing but research. All that reading and re-reading and recording had long since tired him out, as well as all the back and forth from putting all of the things he had taken down back where they belonged. But as he exited the library, his record book open and ready, he knew that all of this would be worth it.
Or so he hoped.
Pt.2 total: 418
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 1:34 pm
Pt.3: Under His Nose
Rastian knelt over his patient, his record book in one hand, and a strange crystal in another. He swung the crystal, which was on a chain, back and forth above the man's head, while he chanted in a low, monotonous voice. If anyone were to have walked in while he was doing this, he knew he would have been perceived as odd, or even loony, depending on who decided to check in. But, this method was one in about fifty things he hadn't tried yet, and it was worth as much of a shot as the other sixty before it.
"Ugh..." He sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The man was a still as before, the hour long chanting and crystal waving had done nothing. Another load of nonsense to check off the list, it seemed. The Healer heaved yet another sigh and placed the crystal in his pocket, before crossing the pages he had been using for that so called cure out with his pen. Now he knew that crystals and chanting did nothing, just as much as a lightning spark to the foot and a cold bucket of water to the head did, too. He flopped into his chair, exhausted from staying up all night, and swatted at his stomach as it demanded his attention.
"I know, I know!" He barked, digging into a pouch fastened to his side. He knew he had some nuts and grain stored somewhere in one of his bags, but he carried so many at a time that he often forgot which he had placed his emergency snacks in! Tired hands fumbled about the pouch, pulling and pushing at it with an anxious look on his face. Ooooh, he was so hungry! Why hand't he paused for some breakfast before pulling an all nighter like that? UGH, sometimes he swore he was as dazed as his grandfather!
Then, a large vial slipped out from the mouth of the pouch and shattered upon the floor, eliciting a shrill squeak from the Healer's lips. Oh, damn it, damn it all! He'd dropped a massive amount of perfume onto the floor, he would need to open a window, and it was still raining! Why couldn't he be more careful?
"Stupid bags, too small, need new ones..." He huffed, prying open a window across the room. Hopefully the scent would filter out and wouldn't give him or his patient a headache. He turned, sighed, and wandered back over to his record book. What was the next thing he needed to try?
"Hin... Imaaa... Neeeajg..."
Rastian's eyes snapped up from his reading and froze upon the lips of his patient. Had he... Just... Spoke? He rose, slowly, and approached his bedside, before grabbing the frail wrist that hung just over the edge. His pulse had quickened, though still not as strong as he would have liked to feel, and look of relief washed over Rastian. Maybe the perfume had brought him back, for just a moment. If so, he was that much closer to finding a diagnosis, an idea that gave the indigo haired man some hope in the darkness he had been swirling in.
"I'll be back in a moment, please hold tight." He said, stroking the man's hand gently. "You're going to be fine, keep fighting."
It was back to the library for him, but with a new piece of evidence in his arsenal, he felt confident that he would be able to find just what he was looking for this time around. He grabbed his record book, updated the symptom page he had made, and practically skipped down the hall. However, his stomach caused him to pause once more, the smell of eggs cooking catching him off guard. He would eat first and then start his next round of research, he couldn't bear another minute without a full stomach!
Pt.3 total: 645
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 1:39 pm
Pt.4: So Close!
Once his belly had been satisfied and his mind effectively clearer as a result, Rastian dove straight for the library once more. He scoured the shelves as he had done the previous day and dug out a few books he found relevant to his patient's symptoms. There were three large ones, two medium ones, and small, hand-sized book, which was fairly weathered from it's years of use. Naturally, Rastian started with the largest book of the bunch, and worked his way through.
"Tonsil remedies, throat soothing roots..." He mumbled, flipping through the pages. He reached the end of the first book before too long and placed it to the side. That was filled with cures for ailments involving the lungs, chest, and throat. He wasn't looking for anything like that.
The second and third books were identical by an informative standpoint on the inside, but bound with different covers. They were for the legs and the feet, nowhere near where Rastian's patient's problems lay. He placed them on top of the first book and opened the first of the middle books. It wasn't anything more than a field medic's journal that listed local herbs, most of which Rastian had already tried. The fifth book was opened as soon as the previous one was slapped closed, and the disappointment was extreme in his eyes. This was a bloody cook book, it didn't belong in a Healer's house! How in the world did it get filed with the others? He heaved a sigh, plopped it with the others, and gazed a the smallest book. The pages were worn, torn, and dusty, as if it had been used so much that it was physically rotting away, leaving a tan-ish coating of paper dust upon it's surface. He blew the coating off and waved the resulting cloud away before carefully opening it to the table of contents.
To his shock and relief, it was a book all about diseases that related to the head, which is where he wanted to be. He ran through the pages as fast as he could, while still being mindful of how old it was, and gasped at a page towards the middle of the book. It held all the symptoms he had written down, from the fevers, the lack of lucidity, and the random bouts of gibberish! It was all there! He let out an excited squeal, followed by a sigh of relief, he'd found exactly what he was looking for! Now all he needed to do was turn the page and he'd have his cure!
But, as the page was turned, it became clear that something wasn't right. A new disease was being described, and the page that would give the cure to the disease his patient had was missing. The Healer bit his lip and flicked his finger gently along the ripped edges, before shoving the book in his pocket. He would find that page if it took him years! It had to be somewhere close to where the book had been when he took it down! He rolled up his sleeves, hustled back over to the shelves, and began his search.
Pt.4 total: 526
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 1:41 pm
Pt.5: Found It!
Piles upon piles of books and scrolls gradually surrounded Rastian as he raced to find the missing page of the book that contained the cure to his patient's disease. It wasn't sitting where he had originally thought it had been, right where the book was originally found, and nowhere to be seen on the surrounding shelves, either. He had climbed up and down, clamored left and right, and all around, carefully checking each shelf, scroll, and book for the missing page, with no luck in the five hours he had spent since he found out it was missing. His clothes were covered in dust from the shelves and books, as well as his hair, and he was starting to get fed up with his search.
"Where could it have gone?" He growled, for about the tenth time in a row. "If it isn't here, on these shelves or in these books and scrolls, then where could it be?"
He sat up against an empty bottom shelf and sighed, his chest shaking as he did. Tears began to form in his eyes, an indicator of how much stress he was feeling, which were quickly wiped away. He couldn't give up, it was his duty to do everything in his power for this man, no matter who he may have been in the past. This man was a different person, a dying man who needed a cure, not further agony from someone from his past. He moved to the side, pulled himself back up off the ground, and began to place what he had taken back on the shelves.
Then, as he was finishing up his final row, something dawned on him. He still had the book on Herbal Cures for Narcolepsy in his patient's room! The books were similar enough to be grouped together in the same shelf, perhaps even the same row! Why hadn't he thought of that? With one last look to the shelves, to make sure everything was back to the way it should be, he took off down the hall and skidded back into his patient's room.
"Please, please, pleeeeeaaassseee!" He pleaded, flipping through the book at lightning speed, before his eyes froze upon a page that slipped out from the center. It was the missing page! He found it! He actually found it! He squealed, snatched the page up from it's page, and began eagerly reading it.
But, soon, his face had gone from excited to solemn, and he moved to sit upon his patient's bedside. His hand cupped the man's cheek and slid off, his posture listless.
"I... I'm sorry." He whispered.
Pt.5 total: 437
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 1:41 pm
Pt.6: Incurable
Rastian had long since re-shelved the remaining books he had taken out from the library, as well as taken as much time as he needed to gather himself again. After reading that his patient's disease had no cure, it was hard for him to keep from feeling as if he had been stabbed. It was like a jab to his heart, a rip to his soul...
There's nothing you can do.
Those words echoed like drums in the corners of his mind, banging back and forth against one another in a cacophony of rhythms and shakes, causing his head to throb incessantly. Still, he knew there was no time to rest, no matter how brief, he had to go back into the room eventually.
The worst part of it was that fact that he couldn't convey the finality of his diagnosis to the patient himself. He was lost long before he came to this home, and he wouldn't know that he was dying no matter what Rastian said. He couldn't hear him, see him, or respond to him, he was too far gone.
He found himself out in the hallway, leaning up against the wall before the door to his patient's room, his eyes downcast upon the floor. How would he continue this, if there was nothing more that he could do? He grasped at his temples and rubbed, heaving an aching sigh, before stepping towards the door. His patient couldn't feel or see him, or interact, but his soul could, right?
"I'll have a friend of mine go to Tale tonight and bring you some things, okay?" He said, sitting beside the man. "I'll make this as easy as possible for you, you have my word as a healer."
This friend was a fellow tradesman who was likely to be in town that evening. If he could catch him in a good mood, Rastian would be able to trade for things such as blankets, incense, instruments, and plants, all from Tale. If his patient's soul was still in there, these things would bring him some form of comfort, and ease him towards the end with doing him harm. He clutched the man's hand and smiled. Hopefully, he wouldn't do the opposite.
Pt.6 total: 372
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 1:44 pm
Pt.7: The Comforts Of Home
Though his friend had been in his typical bitter mood, the story of the dying man was enough to convince him to bring Rastian a few things. The Healer tapped the bags he had been handed once his friend had returned, and gave a bit of a sigh at the condition of a few of the plants. This guy didn't have much of an eye for botany, did he?
There was still some mild rainfall, a little beyond a drizzle, when Rastian returned, the freshness a nice relief from the downpour seen in the past few days. He walked briskly, dried his hair and boots, before heading back to his patient's room. He had moved things around the night before, namely the table and dresser, so that the room felt more open and wide. He didn't know why he felt that was important, but the room did feel a bit bunched together, and that couldn't be a comfortable space for a dying man to be in.
"I'm back, and I've brought some gifts from your homeland." He said, stroking his patient's hair. "It's just some incense and other things, but, hopefully, it'll make you feel more comfortable while you're here."
Of course, the man made no noise or movement, and Rastian carried on fussing with the room. The incense would go on the corner table, by the window, and the blankets would replace the ones he currently had. The plants would be cut and placed a top the blankets, especially the petals of any floral life he had been given. He emptied the bag as he went along, placing things all around, until he came to a sudden halt.
"I'm missing something..." He muttered, counting on his fingers. "Aroma, texture, warmth... OH!"
He reached for his staff and began to chant, until a ball of light formed above him. He focused his energies into making the large ball into small ones, and placed them in glass containers. This gave the room a warm, sunny glow, reminiscent of Tale, espescially when you sat under the shade of the trees. The heat was the sort you would want to feel, like soft waves against your skin, just enough to keep you comfortable while keeping you clear from overheating. He didn't know how long the spell would last, but he was sure he could continue to repeat the spell, it wasn't a very complicated one after all.
Once the lighting was properly set, he moved towards where he had set the incense, and used another quick spell to light them. The scent that was produced was certainly rustic, almost musky, but, more importantly, it smelled like wood. This man had been an archer, if he remembered correctly, and the smell of freshly carved wood would be enough to bring him into a peaceful dream. The smell was equally as nice to Rastian, it reminded him of the wooden carvings he often traded for, they always smelled so fresh and sweet when they were traded directly from the carver themselves. He allowed himself to be enraptured for a moment more before he began changing his patient's bedspread and covers.
The blankets from Tale were of an odd texture, often wrought with pills and rough patches, but they were never short of lovely by color. There were some excellent cloth makers and artisans from Isd and Yware, where these blankets had likely been made, that Rastian was friendly with. Sangita, his sister-in-law, was a cloth maker from Isd herself, which helped greatly when things needed a quick repair. He often brought her the small things he saw needed a stitch before he went on his way, and he appreciated how prompt she was as well. She knew how busy he was, unlike everyone else in the village.
He continued to ponder to himself, the incense swirling around like dust clouds, as he gently tucked his patient back in. Perhaps, after all of this was over, he would take a break from traveling and rest with the family. After all, a war was coming, and he was going to be gone for quite some time to aide the others in the fight. He was sure that he was going to meet Yaholo and Tahigwa there, familiar faces to both protect and be protected by, and he was sure Ogbonna would be bent on joining the force along with him. Yes, resting at home for the brief time he had left sounded wonderful.
But, for his patient, that luxury wasn't an option. He was dying here, in Sauti, wrapped up in as many reminders of home as possible. Rastian's heart ached for his patient, his feelings of anger towards him long gone with the wind, and he placed a wood carving under his hand.
"This is my last gift to you, it's a carved Aldabuck." He said, gently rubbing the back of the man's hand. "I hope that some of this has reached you..."
He stood and wandered back to his table, before taking a good look at the room. Warm, pleasantly lit, and filled with the scent of his uncle's home... Just the way he wanted it to be, and hopefully, his patient felt the same.
Pt.7 total: 870
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 1:47 pm
Pt.8: Forgiveness
The man's heart had stopped beating briefly during the night, and had to be given CPR to bring him back. Rastian, now knowing just how close his patient was to death, kept up the constant flow of incense and warmth around them, and began talking to the neighboring healers about how to handle the funeral. The man had no family, or none that could be found, and with no next of kin in sight, the idea of a funeral was awkward for Rastian to think about.
He was instructed to search his patient's belongings for any clues that might lead them to remaining family, to which he hesitantly agreed. He didn't like invading other's privacy, especially if it meant handling their belongings, but this was an emergency, and emergencies often meant dropping everything and just doing what was best. Thus, Rastian began to empty his patient's bags and pockets, in hopes of finding anything that might help them find his family.
His satchels were filled with trinkets, both carved and painted, but ultimately yielded nothing useful to his search. However, in his left leg pocket, bound in leather and feathers, sat an old pocket journal. It was lovingly kept and seemingly handmade, and when opened, was filled with pages upon pages of writing. The Healer sighed, gazed to his patient, and turned to read it's contents.
"Forgive me, I'm certain this is very private." He said. "But... We have no one here to be present at your funeral, and I need to know if I can find anyone for you..."
The first half of the journal was filled with was seemed to be happy journeys and a family which adored him. But, as he read on, the journal took a sharp turn for the negative, right around when he had been caught harming Rastian as a child. Everyone abandoned him, from his friends to his family, even his own familiars were taken from him as punishment, leaving him all alone in the world. After entries of anger and resentment came entries of sorrow and regret, one of which was a lengthy letter to the "boy he had destroyed."
Rastian read through each entry carefully and, at times, made faces at the details, but paused when the letter to him came along. Did he want to read this? Was it that important now that this man was dying that he knew what he wanted to say to him? It took him a moment before he decided.
"I won't read the last entry." He said, placing the book back in the man's pocket. "I've already forgiven you by giving you my help. We don't need to go on about this any more. It's all in the past."
He sat next to the man, before laying beside him.
"You haven't destroyed me." He said, soothingly. "And I don't want to hold anything against you. It's not good for either of us. I forgive you."
Minutes passed between them, the man and Rastian, with neither making a single sound. However, as the light in the room began to dim, a pair of content smiles could be seen upon their faces.
Pt.8 total: 527
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 1:49 pm
Pt.9: Mourning Light
When morning came, Rastian found himself curled up next to his patient, having had fallen asleep there the night before. He sat up straight, gave a stretch, and grasped his patient's wrist to check his pulse. Seconds ticked by, then minutes, before Rastian slid quietly off the bed and around the other side. He checked the opposite wrist, taking the same amount of time as the other, before placing his fingers upon his neck. Nothing... There was nothing. Not a single beat. His patient had passed away in the middle of the night. He took a step back, covered his mouth, and knelt down beside the man.
He'd never actually been through this before, seeing someone die right in front of him, and he really didn't know how to take it. His eyes welled with tears, his hands shook, and his heart smashed against his chest like a rock against a wall. He sniveled and gasped against his hand, trying his best to hold himself back from sobbing. This... This was a dead body, the shell which held someone's life, the empty casing of someone who once lived. It was someone he knew, it was someone he wished he could have helped, but they were no longer there. He fought against his tears, before dissolving into sobs against the frame of the bed. This was... So painful!
But... In the same token... It also felt... Relieving, didn't it?
He raised his head, giving a raspy cough, and covered his patient's head with a blanket. Then, he uncovered it, and repeated the process a few times. Was he smiling? How could he be smiling? He left the covering at the base of his neck and sat down upon the floor again. This was what they called release, wasn't it? Where you let it all go and fall all around you. He'd never felt this before, he never felt he was allowed to fall down and scream, to let it go. But, with the death of this man, this man whom he thought he hated, it was happening. It was all coming down, falling all around, breaking down his walls, cleansing him of his chains.
"I hope you're happy wherever you are and have found your peace there among the others who have gone before you." He said, placing the cover upon the man's face again.
He exited the room and called for the other healers, all whom panicked about the state of his face. He shook his head towards them and pointed down the hall.
"He's passed on and has no family left to his name." He explained. "I would like to be the one to see that he is laid to rest in a good place. If you could arrange a burial site in Tale for me, that would be the most fitting. He needs to be buried close to home, it's only right."
And then he left them to gaze out the window. The sun was peeking through the clouds causing a sun shower to occur. It was nearing the end of the end, it seemed. He turned, walked a few paces, and paused to dry his eyes.
Pt.9 total: 529
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 1:51 pm
Pt.10: Burial Rights
A burial site was arranged a little farther than the boarder of Sauti and Tale, which was about as ideal as it was going to get. The body was transported, under the watchful eyes of Rastian, to the space where he would perform the ceremony alongside a trusted elder, Kuthun.
"I hope you have everything I've asked of you, elder." Rastian said as he approached the other man.
"Incense, fresh flowers, cloth..." Kuthun muttered, before giving a nod in return. "Everything a man in Tale would prefer to be buried with, I suppose. Reminders of home, a touching thought."
"Yes, I thought so..." Rastian agreed, motioning Kuthun over. "Help me carry him over, would you?"
The pair carried the man's body over to where he would be buried and placed his hands across his chest, before placing him in the casket that had been made for him. They were silent throughout all of this, their heads down and faces solemn, until Kuthun rose to recite a chant to honor the deceased man before them. Rastian's eyes were once more awash with tears as the chant ceased and the man was lowered to his final resting place.
Before they buried him, Rastian made sure to leave him with the items that Kuthun had brought. Bushels of incense, cloth of varying sorts, coins, and an old bow and arrow set. He gave each item a glance before placing them down, and stood to aid Kuthun in the rest of the process. More chants and blessings were sung and written, until they could recall no more. They sighed, gave each other a solemn gaze, and filled the remainder of the grave with dirt and sand.
It was very quiet for a while as they stood together, the wind swirling around them. Kuthun's gaze was far less emotional than that of Rastian's, and showed concern for the young man standing to his side. The elder placed his hand upon his shoulder, just as he moved to turn back towards Sauti.
"It must've been hard, to see him, Rastian." He said, patting the Healer's back. "I know... I know what happened. And you've shown great strength by getting through this..." He paused, as Rastian turned to smile at him, a smile of his own curling around his cheeks. "Will you be coming to visit us more, now? You know you're always welcome in Yera."
Rastian gave a nod, before enveloping Kuthun in a brief, but tight hug.
"I will visit more with my uncle, once this war is said and done." He replied. "But, for now... I think I will go home and spend time with my brothers and father until I have to pack up for war. It's high time I stopped wandering so much and got back into appreciating what I've been given in life, don't you think?"
He smiled towards his elder as they parted ways, one going home to Yera, the other back home to Mez. A slight pause was made at the boarder, where the sun was now shining vividly in the distance, to gaze back at the grave. It was a peaceful scene, that of calm and rest, just what Rastian had wanted. He gave a sigh, wiped a tear from his eye, and took off for home. There was so much he had missed, through sickness and health, and all he wanted to do was get back home before it was too late. He knew they would be there waiting for him, as always, with a smile, a laugh, and bounty of questions about his day. And, maybe for once, he'd feel like he had the right to answer them all.
Pt.10 total: 613
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Posted: Mon Feb 10, 2014 3:46 pm
Final word count: 5845/2000
DONE! <3
I enjoyed this, let me know if I need to change anything!
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 6:21 am
Class Quest Result
C+
Rastian has passed and received a rank of Monk!
Congratulations Rastian!
((As a random side note: you had the dyes for it, so these are the colors you got, but blue is not a Sauti color))
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