[Docks] Remembrance

[Faith Augustin]

1st Ymiden 718

She didn't want to be here. Not here in this place.

Faith had spent the majority of last season here, at the docks. At the place where so many had died and where she had been in charge of the relief effort. She glanced at Alissa as they sat, together, waiting for things to start. "People want you here," Alissa said and Faith nodded. "I know," she said and said no more on it. Faith was a very private person in very many ways and she knew that Alissa understood that, yet Faith could not explain how she felt about this service. She knew it was important, vital even for the people of Scalvoris and those who lived and worked in this area. Moreso, it was as important for each of those who had given their time here.

And more than anything, she wanted it to be about those people. The people who had died, the survivors, the families and the volunteers. Yet, she got the feeling that in places it was going to be about her and she really, truly didn't want it to be. It was true that she had co ordinated the relief effort, had overseen the rebuilding of this place and the creatuion of the garden of remembrance, but it was her job and therefore, no one should be even looking at her.

"Did you prepare a speech in case they ask for one?" Alissa asked and Faith turned to look at her with a wide eyed expression of panic. "I did not. Why would I need one? There is no time in the schedule for such." Alissa smiled and shook her head. "I don't understand why you're so nervous. Jumpy." Faith looked at Alissa and she knew that her friend was speaking the absolute truth. She didn't know. Yet Faith did. It was that name on the list of volunteers, the one who had donated his time and his money, who had grabbed her and pulled her backwards when she was nearly crushed by falling debris and who was not here. Last season it felt like they'd barely seen each other and Faith missed Padraig dreadfully. She worried about him at a deep and fundamental level and to have been without their connections, one to the other, for all this time had been hard on her.

When he wasn't here, she was less confident, she knew. Less able to get on and do what she needed to. He made everything possible.

With a smile to Alissa, Faith gestured to the small building, once a warehouse but commandeered for the trial, where the people coming here were meeting and being given drinks. "We should go," she said with a slight sigh. "It's a tour of the new buildings, then meeting in the Garden of Remembrance and Thanks in the middle, for the planting of the tree and revealing some dedication plaque or another that Brandel has insisted on taking charge of."

In this building would be the Council members, the members of the Elements, people who had been invited under some VIP nonsense which Faith wholeheartedly disapproved of to begin with and the people who lived here every trial. Those were the ones Faith was interested in and she glanced around, looking for anyone she knew.

[Rynata]

Rynata yawned sleepily behind her hand as she halfheartedly watched the gathering of people mill about in the building. Her eyes were a little dull, and if anyone looked closely, there were slight shadows clinging beneath them. Leaning near the walls, she had chosen to stay along the fringes of the activity. Yawning again, she crossed her arms, looking about ready to nod off.

It had been announced that today, the docks of Scalvoris Town would officially reopen. Apparently, there was to be a formal celebration, honoring the victims of the disaster and those who had come together in the days after. Rynata felt that she should have been pleased at the news. After all, the docks reopening was a matter close to her heart. However, she found that she wasn’t as happy or as interested as she once would have been. In fact, the idea of not checking in on the event had crossed her mind. It had just seemed easier to stay away. Still, she had made it here by convincing herself that she was going to turn into an eccentric old hermit, otherwise. She was somewhat relieved that she at least had that much strength of will left and hoped that the memorable occasion would lift her spirits.

From her station by the wall, Rynata had a good view of the rest of the room. There were a fair number of common civilians. Some chatted cheerfully, while others put their heads together in a more somber fashion. No doubt, many people who were directly affected by the disaster had gathered here today. Not to be outnumbered, many important looking officers and officials stood in huddled groups, occasionally lifting the drinks in their hands. Speaking of drinks, a serving tray of the refreshments swam into Rynata’s vision, and she pushed off from the wall to cross over to it. It wasn’t that she really wanted a beverage, but more so that she would have something to do while she waited.

Taking up one of the delicate glasses she took a tentative sip, the tangy liquid doing its best to jump start her senses. Come to think of it, hadn't Amaris mentioned that she was a part of the council? Perhaps she would be among the crowd, here to oversee her duties. What with her height, Rynata didn't think the other woman would be too hard to spot. Of course, this being about the disaster, there was a good chance that Faith would be attending as well. Casting about for familiar faces a little more sluggishly than she normally would, Rynata spotted none other than Faith enter with another at side. Not feeling up to waving for attention, she settled on weaving her way through the room toward the pair.

[Patrick]

In all aspect of honesty, which was something unusual for Patrick, there was only one reason in particular he had come here. While he didn't know much of this part of town save for what she had told him, Patrick felt little regard in the fact he had to be here at the Docks. What happened here was certainly a very real tragedy, one that clearly left such a huge impact on those that gathered here. Even now the Rharnian could see it in the posture of those gathered, the tension and rigidness in their forms as they fought against the heartache. He felt for them some, understanding the value in their loved ones. So much loss happened here just as anywhere else, and while his heart might've actually empathized for the people; it more so reached out to the one he'd grown fond of.

Dressed up in new duds save for the white shirt, since ironically his new 'green' one was not in style this season, Patrick weaved his way through the crowd almost to the very front. A very big difference in comparison to how he would normally act, considering he was a man who typically watched from the rear. But no. He knew this place had a serious levity on Faith, and that was why he came towards the front of the fold; to at least offer moral support for the little lady. After he finally made it through the throngs of the mass that slowly accumulated, Patrick stood at the very forefront to watch her. He was dressed with chiffon material; blue pants and a brown vest, over the same old white cotton shirt he usually wore.

The look on her face said enough to him. He could see it well that no matter how well she tried to hide it, even if she did not, this place truly troubled her for all it's bad memory. There were others there with her of course, people he either didn't recognize outright... or just didn't know at all. Yet at the same time he hardly felt a bit of care for those, all his focus had been spent on being there for just one person; since she had done the same for him so far. In short Patrick merely stood there at the front with hands in his pockets, his head slightly craned as he watched Faith sympathetically. If she happened to notice him then he would create some regular form of a smile, though faint, and wave to her to show he was there for her.

That if she needed him, he would be at her disposal if necessary.

[Sephira]

A small lone candle burned on her kitchen table. The little half burned up stick of wax illuminated the sheathed saber,a Flame Troop Pin, and a Special Assistant Pin that were resting there. Sephira stood over the items silently as she slid on her signature crimson coat. The garment slid over her arms, thankfully obscuring the mysterious red runic symbols that had appeared on her skin late last season while on an expedition in Sweetwine Woods. She didn’t need more people afraid of her simply because of how she now looked, plenty of people were already fearful of her because she was a known mage. To-trial she wanted to appear as normal, and as put-together as she possibly could, because she was attending the remembrance ceremony at the docks.

Whether anyone aside from the Militant and Kura knew her part in the event, she couldn’t be sure, but the woman dreaded going to that place again. With a sigh the mage roughly straightened the lapels of her coat before reaching to affix the Flame Troop pin to the red fabric. The Special Assistant Onyx pin came next; she placed it just above the previous one.

Sephira’s breath caught in her throat for a moment as a wave of panic rippled through her. Was it right for someone with a hand in four-hundred deaths to be at the remembrance ceremony? Did she even deserve to be there? The mage went ridged as her hands settled on the sheathed saber on the table while she felt her rupturing Spark shudder with the waves of emotions she was generating. The Spark was wholly linked with her mind and her heart, it could react poorly if she didn’t get her emotions in check.

Taking a deep calming breath she leaned over the table slightly to place her palms on the wooden surface, before closing her eyes. Sephira had to stay in control; she couldn’t allow the Spark to have its way.

After a few bits of standing wordlessly in her living room the mage finally emerged from the brief stint of meditation and hastily strapped on her weapon and shot out the door.

----------------

The area looked so different from when she had been there last at the beginning of Ashan. Sephira had worked to rescue survivors trapped in a building then and the scene had been desperate then. Buildings were collapsed and there had been a massive crater where the underground ceremonial chamber had caved in. Now newly rebuilt structures had been erected and there was supposedly a remembrance garden on the premises. It was a stark contrast to how the area had looked over one-hundred trials ago, Faith and her team had done an exceptional job.

Sephira moved toward the warehouse where the initial meeting was to take place. The council members were supposed to be in attendance and so were many of the Elements. She entered silently, passing by a server who offered her a drink but who she crisply shook her head at. Sephira was not here to enjoy herself, to-trial was about honoring those that had died. The Element breezed past a man in a silky chiffon shit and a vest. He was vaguely familiar to the mage, although with the gaps in her memory from the past season she had a hard time recalling where she had seen him before.

Though she did certaintly recognize Rynata, although she didn’t yet know her name. The girl had been in Sweetwine Woods during the expedition to located the source of the strange events plaguing the area. Sephira nodded mutley to her before taking her place near the side of the room where several Elements were standing together. All that was left now, was for them to wait for the event to begin.

Dialogue|Thoughts

[Kura Wolfsdotter]

Kura hadn't been looking forward to attending the opening of the restored docks. Such things were never enjoyable, but she understood the meaning of them. However, she also had a dilemma, one that might seem petty to some, but was of importance nonetheless. So, she looked at the two outfits she had laid out on her bed, trying to figure out what to wear. Of course, it wasn't a matter of dressing in mourning colors, or wearing fancy clothes. Both outfits were dark and both outfits were simple. One was a simple dark purple blouse with a black skirt, nothing of importance there. But other was the outfit she had been wearing that night on the docks, the hole in her coat where her side had been cut was even still there. After a moment, she pulled on the clothes she had worn the night of the docks tragedy. People would remember that she was there, that she had witnessed the tragedy first hand, and that she would not forget or let those who caused it go unpunished.

So it was that when she arrived at the docks, she didn't look like a councilor, she looked like a survivor. She took a drink, but it was more to have something to keep her hands occupied as she had a tendency to fidget in crowds. Looking around the crowd, she spotted Sephira, a man from the riot, and a woman from the Sweetwine expedition, but not who she was actually looking for at the moment. Then Rahmet spoke up saying he had found Faith, and she followed his instructions to her friend.

"You okay lass?" she asked, her tone gentle. She knew that even after the rebuilding, there were likely to be a lot of ghosts here, all of them trying to get Faith's attention. Some innocent, others not, and both headache inducing for those blessed by Famula. Hopefully, the ceremonial part of things would last long either. She looked around a moment, then smiled at her friend. "You did good work, lass." she said, her tone not exactly cheerful but proud.

[Amaris]

Their trial had started out no differently than any other from the past season: with them waking in a cold sweat and swathed in darkness. As was becoming they usual, they awoke before the sun rose and took in the stillness around them. They remained that way until the sun made its appearance, and then they pushed off their blanket and went about getting ready for the trial.

It was supposed to be something of a special occasion, the opening of the docks. Like it would assist in the healing of the island to see the restored visage of the docks. To wipe away the evidence of what had happened in the hopes that the focus would be on moving forward. The mixed blood certainly hoped that would be the case. They wished, quite strongly, that this was the start of moving forward for the island and that peace would become a term they could acquaint themselves with again. If not...well, that was something they didn't want to consider.

Instead, they turned their attentions to their attire for the event. They did not want to overdress, but they did not want to seem as though they did not care. They had to put some level of consideration into their dress, or they ran the risk of seeming detached from the situation. It was posturing - but not entirely. They had been involved, in a manner of speaking. They had aided in tending to the wounded, but that had been about it. They had been otherwise removed from the event and they were glad for it. Amaris wasn't so sure their mind might have been able to handle it. They could hardly handle themselves as it were.

Deciding that simplicity was best, they dressed in relatively plain clothes - a blouse and pants to go with their boots - and tried to tame their hair as best they could. They would not make a big show of themselves; or well, more than their height would create. The mixed blood swallowed, glancing at their tags for a moment. It was but a trill later that the chain was around their neck, the he prominent against their skin, and they set off.

--

Finding where he was supposed to stand was easy enough. Right up front with his fellow council members - as if they were to be instrumental in the rebuilding of the docks. They had not been; Faith had. He looked for the woman now, sure by now that she was greatly exhausted by this whole affair. Lips pursed, he scanned the growing crowd a moment before spotting other familiar faces.

It was beside Kura that he found Faith. She certainly looked tired, and he while he couldn't hear Kura as he approached, it looked as if she was checking up on their Councilor of Welfare. Such a broad spectrum that title held; he wondered if there would be others willing to assist her. He would be busy soon enough, and wouldn't be able to provide her with much help. Attempting a smile as he drew closer, Amaris greeted the two women with as much cheer as they could muster. He tried not to think to hard of what Kura herself was wearing, likely from the night of the event.


"Mrs. Faith; Ms. Kura."

[Faith Augustin]

Others came, Faith watched as they did and in some cases she smiled and greeted people but mostly she tried to just stay quiet and out of the way. This was not the kind of thing which she relished, but equally she understood that it was something which needed to be done. For the survivors, for those who had lost family members on that fateful night; for each of them it was important.

For each of the souls here, the ones who screamed still and whose screams she heard? It was less so.

There was no doubt that a lot of the souls of the dead had moved over, Faith had helped some of them to do so. But still. There were those who were still here, unseen to any save her and yet as real a presence as the living. As important to help them, too, and she came here each trial, trying to do just that. She had helped to cross over the wife of the harbourmaster, for example, who had needed Faith to find her wedding ring and give it to him - that kind of thing. Each one a small act, each a simple thing - but Faith believed wholeheartedly that it was in the summation of those simple things where the Immortal lived and where service to Her was.

Too often, people sought power, sought prestige and wealth. They wanted to serve themselves, to focus on the grand gesture, the great deed. Faith did not, could not understand them no matter how she tried. It was in the small gestures, the simple kindness and the basic fundamentals where service lived. Maybe that was the thinking of a slave, Faith considered, but she was a slave no more. Now, she was free to choose, to serve in the way she was responsible for. As they were shown around the new buildings, the warehouses and the residential area, Faith knew that she would always turn to taking care of those who others shunned.

For each of them were souls. Each had blood flowing in their veins and each glowed as brightly in Famula's light. Each knew love and sorrow as well as the most wealthy and when Vri came for them, they would no longer be judged by such physical things. Faith knew this, because the judgement was something which she had recently undergone and it had left her changed. She understood now, what it was that she dealt with. How each soul felt, what it saw.

How very afraid each of them were.

Life and death and the in between. Faith understood that now, in a way she had not before. As they toured around the residential area, so much improved on what had been there before, they saw the stronger, better constructed buildings with the access to clean water and a heating system which had been designed and funded by the husband she missed so much. As Brandel showed them around and spoke so eloquently about what had happened here, Faith wondered if the other council members felt anything. Meeting Patrick's gaze, the young woman smiled slightly, inclining her head just a little.

Then, as Rynata made her way over, Faith smiled in pleasure to see her. A fellow member of Isonomia, someone who had helped out here and whose name appeared on the list of those who had done so. Faith smiled gently, "Busy here, isn't it?" It was indeed, but Faith's smile was ever so slightly ironic. "How are you?" She would take the time to chat to Rynata, listening to her and making sure that she did just that, then would move on. Patrick she found strangely, weirdly comforting. "Hello you," she said with a slight smile. "It's good to see you here. Thank you." That was all she said as she got herself into the mode of greeting people, albeit a little late.

When Kura spoke to her, though, Faith nearly came undone. It took all her discipline to look at her friend without bursting into tears and asking the Mortalborn to just take her home. "I'm.. Kura, would you like to come to dinner tonight? I miss my Padraig and I could use a friend to talk to. Or a pair of them, if Cally isn't busy either." As for doing good work, Faith looked utterly torn. "I hope so, Kura." She'd done her best, but still people had died who didn't need to. Faith reached out and touched Kura's clothing. "But some things can't be mended or patched over."

It was just then that Amaris arrived and Faith turned and smiled at their fellow Council Member. "Amaris, always a pleasure." Faith meant it entirely, she had a lot of time and respect for the very tall individual she counted among her friends.



And so, they made their way into the Garden of Remembrance. There, children would be able to play and there were quiet spots, secluded areas where there were benches nestled away in bushes. In the very middle of the garden was a tree - a willow tree which had been planted there a few trials before. Yet it looked to have been well established and it was already a large, beautiful thing in the very heart of the garden. Off to one side, nestled in a small pond, there was a glass sculpture, made from Egilrun glass on which were engraved the names of everyone who had died. It sat in a small, walled off area and should people go and look, each stone which made the wall also had a name carved into it, and a few words. Each volunteer, what they had done - a small, personal touch rather than an impersonal one. Around the base of the glass statue there were stepping stones in the water. Each one had names, too. The survivors of that night. Hanging around the garden were dozens of lanterns.

"We come to commemorate, to give thanks and to vow that we will remember!" Brandel, the head of the Council spoke then. Then, he invited each person who wished it to come forward and speak. To share a memory or give thanks - to speak as they wished, to say what was in their hearts.

If they wished to, of course.

[Patrick]

Although he paid very little attention to those that gathered first that would later be remedied, once the brief greeting with him and Faith would come to pass at least. Initially his priority in being here above all was her, as he knew good and well at this point; Faith really needed the kind of mental and emotional support. He understood quite well the toll this sort of stuff could take on one person, ever since he learned what exactly Faith as a person was required to do for those around her. She may have been able to serve her Deities with grace and confidence, but even then she was still to an extent human in comparison to the Immortals. Albeit a very changed human from the looks of it.

Still at the moment she recognized him and provided a greeting, one that felt mixed with genuine and mildly well practiced, Patrick shot at her a modest grin with a hint of sincerity in his eyes. "I know it's silly, but I thought you could use a... backup. Kind of." 'Kind of' was exaggerated with a eye toss to the ceiling, although by now Patrick felt sure Faith new him better to catch what he really meant. As much as he really wasn't willing to admit it, he was here on behalf of her and their developing friendship over the season. Somehow he felt obligated to be here even without any reason why, and while he didn't come up with an excuse just yet he certainly didn't want to make it obvious.

"I'm here Faith. If you need me just holler." He assured her before the short woman moved onward, a little sad to see her less spritely than usual. Then he realized just how soft he was probably showing himself as, therefore deemed it time to clear his throat and find a stiff drink. He had seen others grabbing them while here, so naturally the best remedy for his case of the pansies was a few of those right now. Admittedly he couldn't help but keep a close eye on Faith though, he ultimately struggled to find himself selfish at this point in time. Unusual. After he'd grabbed his first drink and downed half of it, he noticed the look he gave to some other woman he had never met before. Though... she was at the riot was she not?

Patrick had spent so many nights thundered after that, even initially after the riot itself, that he failed to remember all the faces there. Really though he felt he knew a couple faces right off the bat, just with no real names to link them to since he'd never 'officially' met them. Well looky there! One of them was the council lady he drank with, the one Syroa just so happened to likely charm with her awful ways. Pat could never figure out what the hell that Immortal did, but of course he got to enjoy a couple moments before finding the night ultimately biting him in the ass... one way or the other. Seeing Faith among friends now though he realized how popular and important Faith was to these people, and in a way it reminded him of how isolated he really was in comparison to all of that.

No friends. No family. Just him here all alone with... an invisible fairy and his ghost of a dead brother. Such a lonely man he truly was. He wasn't sure if Dominek was even there, since the Rharnian couldn't see him at all, but if Pat knew Dominek the dead Lightning Knight probably didn't want to be. Places where death were high in number were never Dominek's strong suit, ever since they both lost their mother back when the two were still just boys. Rather discreetly he kept to himself and the glass he slowly tried to enjoy, albeit his old habits made it a tendency to just drink the stuff down and get it over with. He didn't want to really be a shadower to anybody but he ultimately felt curious about a couple of people, namely the Rupturer he recognized from the riot as she crossed his vision. Now that was impressive to see again.

Even if she seemed human and ordinary to watch, Patrick somehow couldn't help but secretly admire the woman. Once he realized he was staring a little too much though, he naturally wandered his vision back to the person he was here to support. Once in the Garden of Remembrance however he stood off to the side, watchful of first the crowd and to any who might step forward. Could he say something? Probably. But what could he say or do to honor these people? He was an outsider in all honesty and therefore, he felt he had little right to step up and speak; thus he watched in quiet solitude as he forcibly slowed his drinking of the wine.

[Amaris]

Faith did not look 'okay' or 'fine'. From what he could observe, it wouldn't have been any fault her own if she didn't attend the ceremony. The mixed blood, however, could only smile back. It was not his place, he didn't think, to tell her how she ought to deal with all this work she was assigning herself. Not when he could barely handle himself. So he continued to smile, hoping that would be enough. "How are you doing? You did quite a bit of work this past season; I hope you've gotten some rest."

As if to take this as some sort of cue, two black birds swooped down to perch on either of his shoulders. Amaris had let the birds out in the morning when he'd left, but it would seem the pair had been following him. The two crows observed the surrounding area as the mixed blood sighed. Could they not have found a perch on a roof of some sort? "I apologize for their unintended entrance, but I believe you might remember Icarus, and the other is Uriel." He gestured to each in turn, having grown somewhat sheepish.

Amaris walked closely with Faith as the entered the garden, falling quiet for a time. His mood was far more somber than before - a sort of guilt taking hold. He had not, as he reminded himself often, been present for any of what had happened. He had learned of it in passing and through association with the volunteer efforts. He was a witness only to the aftermath, the ripple and not the wave. Something about that did not sit well with him. What would you have done? Cowered like you usually do. That was likely precisely what he would have done. He would have been no help, and that only made it worse. Maybe he might have been there to give his life over for someone else. That his name might have replaced someone else's.

But that was a stupid idea - he would not have been missed like these people would be. At least, he did not believe that. He might have even been a weight lifted off the backs of those around him. The mixed blood swallowed, blinking back tears as he looked away from the fount and spotted a different face that he did not know too well. Patrick didn't look comfortable here, perhaps even less than Amaris did himself. Excusing himself from Faith, he approached the man with a small smile.

That seemed to be all he could offer for anyone - a smile.

[Rynata]

Returning Faith's smile as best she could, Rynata nodded. "I've been busy myself," she replied. This wasn't the entire truth but the other half of it wasn't a story for now.

The group filed into the garden appropriately dubbed the Garden of Remembrance and for a while just stood quietly, taking in the serene greenery. Flowing branches of a large willow tree swayed in a misty curtain and a reflective pond sat toward the side of the area. From the middle of it rose a bright, glass sculpture, enclosed, almost as though it were being sheltered, by the stone wall around it. The air here was enough to revive Rynata a little from the haze of sleepiness. Peeling off from the rest of the group, she wandered over to the water's edge. As she looked down at the stepping stones leading to the sculpture, she thought she saw silvery threads darting away from her shadow and wondered if the pond was already populated with life.

Carefully stepping over the gap between the stones, Rynata put an experimental foot down on the pathway. The stepping stones were sturdy and not at all slippery. Following the guided path around the sculpture, she quietly gazed at the names engraved there. She knew that some would not be, or at least could not be carved. After all, there must have been some unnamed victims in the disaster. As she turned around, however, it came to her attention that each of the stones in the wall bore distinct carvings. They were names as well. The names of those who signed that volunteer sheet so many trials ago. What was more, under many of them were messages of thanks and recognition. Some of the names she spotted were familiar, and Rynata eventually came across her own dedication, nestled happily near the bottom of the wall. It was a little strange to see the letters of her own name staring firmly back at her in such a monument. To tell the truth, the recognition felt like it was meant for someone else. Still, it was touching to know that some part of her would remain in this peaceful garden, watching over, along with the many other stones, the sculpture remembering the dead.

Hopping back to the shore, Rynata reached solid ground just in time to hear the official sounding man's proposal to come forward and speak. While she really wasn't the type for speeches, if no one else would, she thought she could come up with a few simple words of thanks. It shouldn't be that hard, right?

Moving forward, she turned about to address the crowd in front of her, coloring a little as eyes turned to scrutinize her. Perhaps public speaking wasn't her forte, after all. Clearing her throat, Rynata took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"I'll just say a few things," she began. "First, I'd like to offer my condolences to everyone affected by the disaster. I hope this commemorative garden serves as a place of comfort and remembrance, even when the memories of pain and loss are no longer so fresh. And, er, second, I'd like to thank those who helped bring us together." here, Rynata sought out Faith's silver eyes, hoping she might understand. "Without them, all the organized support and care for the Scalveen people would not have been possible."

Rynata slipped rapidly back into the crowd, making herself scarce as perhaps a few others stepped forward to say their piece. She needed to remember not throw herself at impromptu speeches on such delicate matters. They were as bad for her heart as surprise shark attacks.