Geraldus would not have done any such thing, for someone he would have seemed sacrilegious. She did not believe in what they did, and so she and her followers would have been heretics to be burned as an example.
So he knows, that there's some truth in her words. Despite how often he self-doubts. Geraldus had used the Mute as a weapon to be wielded. He wanted to do anything that would keep the blood off of him and on another — all for the sake of stomping down those deemed unworthy of God's love. But were they all not worthy? How can a man find their Lord if he is killed by those meant to lead them? A bloody war, and for what? A sea of corpses who were never intended to be salvaged into believers.
Where is the salvation for them? The Mute had deserved it and more.
He can only pray every night, that God saw the goodness and repentance and care than Diarmuid saw reflected back at him, from the quiet man's devastated stare.]
Sometimes... I wonder if I was the one spared.
Such a thought seems unfair of me to think, when so many had fallen for the sake of our pilgrimage. But regardless of my intentions, I... I cannot help but be haunted. By what happened to him... to them. It smothers the air out of my lungs sometimes, and... I...
[He trails off, embarrassed to be so frank about his struggles.]
[His voice goes quiet, soft, unsure, and Alia – she nearly envies that. To be so affected by death and pain that it stays with you, that it haunts you whenever you close your eyes. She has never been tender-hearted in that way, much as she tries, only affected by death when it strikes too close to home for her to withstand. She thinks of the blood on her hands, thinks of it staining the sweet, solemn face of this boy, and banishes the thought immediately.]
I don’t think it’s unfair. Though perhaps that is selfish of me – I would rather have you whole and here, than fallen for the sake of a quest you did not choose. [Matter-of-fact, straightforward – Alia is a selfish creature to her core, and she guards her favorites zealously. The winding halls of this house would be emptier, colder were it not for Diarmuid and his prayers.
Still:] My beloved has a shop that sells teas and tinctures. If your memories and dreams torment you, tell me. I will find a way to ease them and let you rest.
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[A non-answer, and yet it's very clear.
Geraldus would not have done any such thing, for someone he would have seemed sacrilegious. She did not believe in what they did, and so she and her followers would have been heretics to be burned as an example.
So he knows, that there's some truth in her words. Despite how often he self-doubts. Geraldus had used the Mute as a weapon to be wielded. He wanted to do anything that would keep the blood off of him and on another — all for the sake of stomping down those deemed unworthy of God's love. But were they all not worthy? How can a man find their Lord if he is killed by those meant to lead them? A bloody war, and for what? A sea of corpses who were never intended to be salvaged into believers.
Where is the salvation for them? The Mute had deserved it and more.
He can only pray every night, that God saw the goodness and repentance and care than Diarmuid saw reflected back at him, from the quiet man's devastated stare.]
Sometimes... I wonder if I was the one spared.
Such a thought seems unfair of me to think, when so many had fallen for the sake of our pilgrimage. But regardless of my intentions, I... I cannot help but be haunted. By what happened to him... to them. It smothers the air out of my lungs sometimes, and... I...
[He trails off, embarrassed to be so frank about his struggles.]
no subject
I don’t think it’s unfair. Though perhaps that is selfish of me – I would rather have you whole and here, than fallen for the sake of a quest you did not choose. [Matter-of-fact, straightforward – Alia is a selfish creature to her core, and she guards her favorites zealously. The winding halls of this house would be emptier, colder were it not for Diarmuid and his prayers.
Still:] My beloved has a shop that sells teas and tinctures. If your memories and dreams torment you, tell me. I will find a way to ease them and let you rest.