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What a day… Finn tried to keep the grumpiness out of his general demeanour but sometimes it was challenging. It was not only because this trial was the trial of the Champion’s Tournament so the whole city was already full of drunks, fits of competitive violence justified underneath the flag of the contest happening outside the walls, but Finn was also still annoyed and hugely against the Faith’s latest decision of importing mercenaries into the city as a their own force of protecting the citizens. Finn did not and would not agree with that in a million arcs and many of his colleagues have learnt about it the hard way - through a heated conversation.
Since that trial when the mercenaries from Hiladreth arrived, Finn has reached a decision. He has decided to reach a position within the Faith where he can influence these nonsensical decisions more than with the nonexistent power he had now. Or ideally, he would make those decisions himself. Since then he’s been actively looking for ways how he could achieve that, where the most beneficial alliances for him would lie and what he would have to do to rise to the top. There was much the Faith was doing wrong, he now believed.
He was partly lost in thought as he walked through the spacious main hall of the Temple of All Gods where many of the acolytes were tending to those in need. In this heat, it was mainly providing shade and water so that the streets would not turn into a mass pass out session. Many poor and those without home came here on trials like this as their only place of refuge. As for Finn, it was not his intention to partake in the actions of the acolytes. His destination was Ymiden’s shrine where he could find at least some peace for his mind and where he could meditate or otherwise alleviate the irritation that settled in his body.
word count: 334
Favourite quote:
They do not yet understand the purpose of forgiveness. It is not to spare wrongdoers a punishment they deserve. It is to spare the injured ones the ongoing pain they do not.
"How odd, coming to a place like this." He pondered, rubbing his chin. Why did he come to this place in the beginning? Ahh thats right, he wants to destroy his father, to make the man that stole his youth way from him pay, to ruin him and watch him spiral into madness while taking his final breaths. Looking at one the statuette depictions of Ymiden, he raised his brow. "Can you truly garner forgiveness for those who wish ill will on others. As a non-believer I dont think I'm worthy of such a thing. To forgive him would be a slap in the face of my mother and my people. You cant expect me to turn the other cheek after all he has put me through? Is it so wrong to want to make him feel the same despair and agony, the fear of not knowing if you would live through the night or not? If you are truly an immortal of forgiveness, show this non-believer a sign that my vengeance is not needed." He demanded in a hushed whisper, clenching his fist to the point he broke the skin, blood running from the fist.
Not many people set out on the short journey between the Temple of All Gods and its subsequent smaller shrines despite the Eastern temple offering shade and gardens to hide in. For that reason, it meant that Finn enjoyed the quick trip through the heat without having to interact with anyone. That was convenient. So when he entered the Eastern temple, which was a structure of stone so freely amalgamated with the surrounding nature, he felt part of the heaviness fall off his shoulders. It felt strangely like home and Finn did not mind seeing strangers taking their refuge here either.
He aimed to walk through the cooler interior, past the altars all the way to the secluded area for religious personnel where he could lay down the few manuscripts he was carrying and try to distract his preoccupied mind in peace. Alas, a whisper caught his ear and caused him to inconspicuously slow down, changing direction. Finn heard many people whispering prayers and wishes to themselves within these walls. Sometimes he would choose to avoid eavesdropping to give individuals the full privacy they believed they had in this place. Sometimes he would listen to the hushed words so he knew what ailed those who came to seek relief here. Sometimes the hushed voices brought him as much peace as the place itself.
This one was one of those and it piqued his interest. Those were words of desperation mixed with anger and as Finn slowly approached the blond haired man he could see his body speaking thousand more words. Words that like calling to the priest informed him of his service being needed even if not sought after yet.
The streak of blood down the man’s skin soaked up the sun rays that freely flowed into the sanctuary, turning the crimson into molten ruby. He stopped next to the stranger with clean linen in hand. Finn carried one with him everywhere these days to soak up the sweat the would bead his forehead when he wore his priestly robes. This one was unused and the priest was happy to give it away. He offered it in silence, looking at the man as an equal averaging very much the same height. When and if the offer would be taken, the priest would look at the statue of Ymiden for a moment. He knew the features of that immortal so well sometimes even he wondered if that was to ever be the only platonic intimacy he'd experience in his life. But his own wonders aside, Finn did not know the hardships of this young man so choosing his first words was a challenge which would have explained the short period of continued silence between them.
“You ask interesting questions.” Finn started thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes for a moment before turning his gaze back at the man. His hues were a gentle shade of grey which however spoke of desire to understand and experience with difficulties of forgiving. One follower once told him that Finn had the the eyes of a haunted man who instead of cowering away, stood firm against the tricks and bumps of life.
“You come asking Ymiden if he could show you forgiveness." It was not necessarily and admission that Finn heard what the stranger said. At the end of the day, he was stood in front of the Immortal of forgiveness. "Whatever it is for, whoever it is for...you are still considering it otherwise you wouldn't be here. So ask yourself instead and tell me if you wish - how willing are you to go on the journey to forgive?”
word count: 606
Favourite quote:
They do not yet understand the purpose of forgiveness. It is not to spare wrongdoers a punishment they deserve. It is to spare the injured ones the ongoing pain they do not.
The expression on Zasa's face was one of confusion, anger, and uncertainty. Growing up he never really had much faith in the immortals, seeing them as tools to control the masses, and those who worshiped such beings as pawns for the deities to toy with and manipulate. Even at this point in his life, if the immortals who supposedly sided with mortals truly existed, one of them would have come to him during his time of need, and yet not one single ageless one appeared before him. He didnt despise them, merely couldnt find it in himself to see their worth. They brought wars that put friends, lovers, parents, siblings, against each other. How could and rational and sane being support such things. Staring into the statue of the Immortal he was hoping would hear him, he heard another voice instead. His golden mane whipped around as he quickly turned his head to see who was so intrusive as to give their two sense on on the private subject. The man before him was a priest of the temple. He wasnt surprised that the priest heard him, though he wasnt all to happy in the fact he intruded on Zasas lamenting, but he was in the holy man's place of worship. "You read far to much into your assumptions priest. I was asking him for a sign if I forgive those who put me through hell. I'm assuming your his attempt to do so. So tell me sir priest, can you forgive when all you have was torn from you? Being physically & verbally abused, having your......your innocents stolen from you? Can you truly forgive demons in human clothing?" He wasnt convinced that his path could be dissuaded, not that easily. His glare settled on the priest as he the daily ongoings of the temple played out around them.
Those eyes. That fire. The bitterness of past wrongdoings. It drove it home for Finn like every time before. But this time, he thought that he was looking at himself decades earlier when he was at a same cross road. There he took a wrong turn and walked down a path which might have set him free physical, but mentally put him in a prison until last arc. Has this man taken that turn too? Or was there still time? Was Finn to become a mentor to this man like Telar was to Finn? That thought alone brought encouragement and determination.
Finn withstood the glare comfortably, returning it with a cool but not dismissive gaze of his own. He knew from his own experience how hard it was to find a way back from the treacherous turns of vengeance, away from the temptation of exacting revenge on those we believed deserved it the most. His greys darkened then and an alien empathy snuck into his features.
“Yes, you can.” Even if the demon in clothing would be the very prayer. His answer was simple but clearly not the end of it. It was neither said as a preaching phrase of a fanatic, but it was spoken by a man who experienced the hardships himself. Though Finn knew that this would not do. One meeting with this man would not fix what looked like countless arcs of abuse probably much similar to Finn’s own.
“Right now, it might not look like it. Right now, you might be boiling with fury, blaming the Immortals, blaming the world for the bad and I understand that. I did that once too. Before I was a priest.” He didn’t know how to give the man a small glimpse into the torment which put Finn on this path. The torment that did drive him to commit a heinous crime. He wasn’t sure he would dare to speak it out loud to a living being. Even if he has made his peace with his past, it was still left untouched...unknown to the rest of the people and Finn still believed it better be left like that.
“Forgiveness does not come easy and it does not come immediately. It is a rocky path that not every person is willing or strong enough to take. But it is my belief and it does not come from my faith, I assure you, that we are all capable of it." He then stopped for a moment, thinking quickly.
"Say, whatever has driven you here, to this temple, tell me about it. As much or as little as you like. I'd like to understand.”
word count: 447
Favourite quote:
They do not yet understand the purpose of forgiveness. It is not to spare wrongdoers a punishment they deserve. It is to spare the injured ones the ongoing pain they do not.
ThHis borw raise at the holy man. "It's hard to blame beings you dont even believe in your holiness. I am however a pragmatic man, and I see the use of them, but my acknowledgement doesn't mean I give them reverence or power." He explained, his gaze now on the statue once again. The priest continued to speak on how forgiveness worked, it not coming so easy nor being something one could just simply hand out to everyone who had wronged him. It was more than a rocky path, it was a journey only fools could dream of finishing. It was truly a path he never thought he could see himself on. Taking a seat, Zasa looked up to the man as he wanted to understand him, his burning desire for vengeance. The empath didn't need to see the colors of this man to note the genuine concern that painted his face. "It began when my father took me from Desnind and took me to Etzos. The Escolothe' Family held a welcoming party for me, to make me feel at home. In reality it was an indoctrination ceremony to wash out my sev'ryn ways of thinking. At 18 arcs you don't really see such things behind polished words and extravagance you aren't accustomed too. By the late evening they along with myself were trashed, either drunk or high off of whatever drug the family was known for producing on the side." He began, wells of water forming in his eyes as he looked passed the priest and at the beautifully adorned window behind him. "When drunk my father tends to show his true self, a lecherous and vulgar man all marinading in brutality. He had drugged me during the festivities, something simple yet potent. My inhibition were gone and resisting him was futile in such a state. That night I realized my mother had chosen no mortal to help bring me into existence, yet a demon. He defiled me that night, whispering how I was nothing but mixed sev'ryn trash only good for being his sexual release. His sentiments seemed to be hereditary as my uncles and male cousins shared the same views on my sev'ryn blood. They passed me around like some recreational drug for their enjoyment. This was the start, though, as arcs progressed his sexual abuse evolved into verbal slurs and physical pains. He'd need no reason to do such either, just looking at me reminded him of his own weakness with a sev'ryn woman, and as a result of that weakness, I was his living reminder. It got so bad that during his defilement of my body, he would find himself on the verge of actually killing me. If I didn't inflict bodily harm on him, he would have succeeded in killing me for sure. Ive always known mixed bloods were treated poorly, but never like that. I was living a tailored hell because of my birth." Rivers of tears now cascading his face as he told his story, delving even further into it. "I would lay in bed some nights wondering when he or one of the other Escolothe' males would come into my room to have their way with me, or beat me. It was an agonizing torture not even your immortals would bring upon their most hated. In those moments i wished for death, but my mothers words of encouragement always echoed louder in my head every time. By my 18th arc I begun plotting the demise of my father's house, wanting to share in the pain, wanting them to see how it feels to be on the other side of torment." Unable to bear the weight of reliving such events while recanting them, Zasa for the first time since he was a young man, broke down into a deep sobbing cry. As an empath it was a powerful emotion for him, recanting those events causing the emotion to wash over him, overwhelm him as if being caught in a torrential downpour. He was normally a well composed individual, able to play his emotions well, but in this instance he couldn't help himself. His hands cradled his face as he cried, turning into a wailing ghost of some sort, which garnered the curious and concerned looks of the others, some coming to see if the priest needed any assistance.
He waved his hand at the acolyte who approached. No, he didn't want another person involved. Heartbreaking tears, sorrowful tears, tears that allowed the heavy consciousness to unburden itself were all welcome in the temple. Or most certainly in Finn's presence. Finn himself knew the necessity of crying and the cleansing effect it could have on a body. And so the acolyte understood the gesture and, albeit unwillingly, retreated. Next, Finn sat himself down next to the man who was truly broken by his past experiences. Finn could understand those in so much more depth than the man himself could understand. Whilst their stories were different, they were equally as scarring and it was a relief for Finn to find out that this man has not yet chosen a path that would further warp his existence. There was still hope. There was still a chance for Finn to sway this young man on a path much less damaging and much more rewarding.
"You don't need to believe in the Immortals in order to be capable of their domains." Finn started referring to the man's earlier utterance. "You don't need to follow Aeva to be ambitious and proud, nor do you need to follow Ymiden to forgive. Ultimately, each of these qualities come from within us and we are all capable of them. But I understand why you feel the way you feel." Finn spoke softly with empathy in his voice of a broken soul that however was able to mend itself. He offered the linen once more.
"Hatred and wanting to hurt someone is understandable when you've been subjected to that. I hated someone in the past as well. So much so I went too far in my actions." Finn started skirting around the issue of his own past, willing to relate to the man in vague terms but concrete details were still locked away. "Plotting the demise of your family, even bringing death upon those who hurt you are an outlet for you to release the pent-up suffering. But like I said, we are all capable of Immortals' domains no matter how impossible it might seem and in your case perhaps it does seem unreasonable too. But the words of your mother kept you from taking your own life, what do you think her opinion might be on this matter?" As far as Finn's experience with Sev'ryn folk went he did not take them for vindictive folk.
word count: 417
Favourite quote:
They do not yet understand the purpose of forgiveness. It is not to spare wrongdoers a punishment they deserve. It is to spare the injured ones the ongoing pain they do not.
Finding control of himself, he took the cloth being offered to him. He couldnt believe he let himself get that way, in front of a stranger no less. "Forgive me, I dont normally loose control of myself like this. Its not easy being an empath, being subjected to other's emotions and all." He deflected, pointing to another woman weeping some feet away from him. In all he wasnt going to admit that his outburst was of his own accord. He cleared his face, folding the cloth neatly on his leg. Looking up into the ceiling he moved stray strands of hair from his face before slightly tilting his head to look at the priest. "Your words sound similar as before, surely you dont think repeating such ideals in a more relative context will help prove your case? You say you understand but how can that be? You were obviously pushed to a degree to where it was uncertain it you could ever redeem yourself. Care to share your journey of forgiveness? It only fair after bearing my soul to a complete stranger." He grilled the man, offering the cloth back to the priest, resting his chin in his hand as he awaited a story from the priest.
Finn fell silent for a moment but not withdrawn. He was looking at the blonde in front of him and perhaps it seemed as if he was studying the man’s face. An empath. Someone sensitive to other people’s feelings. It was a blessing and a curse Finn could imagine. Just how much did that affect the man when he was suffering at the hands of his father? Did his own feelings get multiplied? Finn could only guess but either direction he went, the conclusions were unpleasant. When the stranger called out Finn on his past action, it was the priest’s turn to avert his gaze. Not in shame, piety or fear, but in thoughtfulness as he contemplated his next words.
“I’ve done what you are thinking about to do.” Finn then said without scruples, with voice deep and heavy as if a whetstone ran down the sharp side of the blade. “And it cost me more than a few bad dreams. I lost myself to guilt, anger, desperation. I committed myself to an internal prison of constant masochistic punishment where I refused to believe that I deserved to be forgiven for the crime, no matter how justified it was. Let alone forgive those who wronged me.” Finn was still working on telling his story that was laid silent inside his mind for arcs. It was hard to finally put it into words, express it to another individual. And Finn was still apprehensive that perhaps it might caught up with him and put him in prison. Although, if that was to come, this time, he would accept it for reasons his Immortal understood.
“Ymiden once told me that most of us don’t understand the purpose of forgiveness and I agree with him.” He took in a deep breath and allowed his features to soften for they grew harder when he explained his own past the best he could in that situation. “Forgiveness is not to spare the wrongdoers of the punishment they deserve, he told me. But it is to spare the injured ones the ongoing pain they do not.” Finn cited word by word what his Immortal told him earlier in the season. Those were words which they drove it home for Finn and set alight realization which still made him quiver inside. It was not granted that the same words would have the same effect on this man, but it was still a piece of wisdom that Finn wanted to share.
“Your father will reach the deserved punishment. He will have to account for his crimes and it can be arranged. You can play a part in it and it does not have to end in death. I put myself through that pain for over a decade and it nearly destroy my psyche. When I see the same happening to others, like you, I only hope to prevent that from happening.” There was the purest honest and desire to truly help, but it was not desperate nor oppressing. Finn has been denied times before by believers and he had to learn to accept it. Not everyone wanted to be saved. Not everyone was ready for it. Yet with this man...
“Say since you’re here and you've listened to me thus far, will let me try to help you? If you want to hold on to your aim of killing your father I won’t stop you. I won’t try to alter your path if you’re determined to follow it. But I can at least try to help you heal.”
word count: 599
Favourite quote:
They do not yet understand the purpose of forgiveness. It is not to spare wrongdoers a punishment they deserve. It is to spare the injured ones the ongoing pain they do not.
Listening to the man divulge his past, however vague it may have been, Zasa could only sympathize with him. No it wasnt sympathy, but a weight that had been lifted from his shoulders. He at least knew that someone like himself had the chance to be saved, to find solace in what they've done. Now the harder question was if Zasa could do the same. His blue eyes gazed into the priest trying his best to see the colors of the man. He was washed in hues of blue, which could symbolize his grief and regret of sharing his past, or the content of knowing he has found peace and forgiveness. Whatever the case may be, he wanted to help Zasa, which was quite foreign to the male. "What could you possibly gain from helping me? Forgive me if this comes off to be rude, but i'm no charity case." He spoke fervently, his eyes now in a glare at the priest. He remained silent for sometime, mulling over what to do. He wanted to see his father's family pay, he wanted justice for his mother, himself. "Whats the point in helping a man already broken? I have long since cast off any care I had for myself. I've become what my father wanted, all in a grand scheme to bring about his ruin by my own hands. There's nothing worse for a creator than to see their creation destroy everything they have built. People are different sir priest, where you have lost yourself to the heavy emotions of caused by your actions, I've learned how shut mine down and cut them back on however I please."
