2017-08-21: An Inrospective Interrogation - 1

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  • Cutscene: An Inrospective Interrogation - 1
  • Cast: Ethius Hesiod
  • Where: Gunsmoke Desert - The Carakin's Interior <The location(s) the log occurs in.>
  • Date: 08-21-2017
  • Summary: Ethius Hesiod reflects on the events of the day the Caravan Kinship fought past a Metal Demon unit, explored the inside of the Guardian Temple, and found themselves fleeing to the west.

============================<* Gunsmoke Desert *>=============================

The Gunsmoke Desert occupies the northwestern portion of Ignas. This desert is different from Aveh's. Instead of rolling dunes of sand, it has dry and cracked ground, and the mountains that rim it also intrude into the interior, forming stunning rock formations that can look as beautiful as they look impossible. The settlements here are hard-pressed to survive, consisting of countless small towns. The lucky few are connected by railways to the Seed Cities scattered about the Gunsmoke. Many are lost to the sands, which cover them and a tremendous concentration of ruins from Filgaia's past. This makes these badlands the heart of Drifter activity in Ignas.

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4z_CxmE0AkA

( The cutscene follows the events of: https://dreamchasers.space/2017-08-20:_World_of_Ruin )

-

At this point in time, it had been a year and a half since I had become aware of my own existence. I had much to consider, but for the time being, I was preoccupied with the present.

As I nursed my wounds upon the caravan after having removed every bullet by hand, I felt it prudent to reflect upon the events of the day. We were not at calm. While I steeled myself for an interruption, there was scant little I could have accomplished had one appeared. I made due with the time that was available to me. Had we not accumulated the Potion Berries from the Guardian Temple, there would have been none.

My thoughts briefly drifted towards the idea I had this many serious ARM-inflicted wounds to begin with, as though a novelty. My trajectory, I knew at the time, would have seen me struck by fire. The wounding itself had proven a surprise, though I had wondered why that would have been. Some ideas had formed in the moment, but I would have given them further consideration another time.

I accompanied the Caravan Kinship to the Guardian Temple. I wished to avoid getting caught up in the initial battles surrounding it to come inside and go about my own investigations independently, but I was not so fortunate. It was to my benefit that this plan failed, in retrospect, for the nature of what we would have faced within. I acted within the parameters and blessings of those who closely observed the religious teachings related to the Guardians of Filgaia best as I was able.

Though we had come together and survived through numerous challenges in our cooperation, I understood they needed to remain at arm's length. Even up at the shallow crater, where those with me spoke passionately in my defense against mercenaries and ruffians, I had to retain as tight a control of questions and information as I could. I appreciated their cooperation and earnest advice as to what significance the site of my earliest memories held, if any. I was rewarded with a memory whose significance I felt great hesitation in which to share.

I feared exposure, even without knowing in full what was at risk of being exposed.

Never had I felt more exposed than when I entered the chamber at the heart of the Guardian Temple. I made a number of mistakes I internalized were fatal. It mattered not what the nature of what I was trying to conceal remained uncertain, only the very idea that it could have been exposed. It was to my benefit that I had nurtured at least some level of trust and acceptance for what were, I would concede, eccentric behaviors. I did not like the idea of my presence becoming normalized to anyone, no matter how much I was willing to entrust to them.

They did not raise concern for my lack of respectful observance of figures I believed to be recordings, nor did they move to correct me when I had even suggested such out loud. These were mistakes, I thought to myself, I normally would not make. As to what standard I compared this thought to, I was met with a blank. There were more important matters to consider.

Most troubling was the sadness I felt when I had watched Miss Kourin find her serenity in the tablet she had received. I was aware I had performed deeds in prior that might have made anyone else feel remorse, or guilt.

I had inadvertently dragged numerous others into the fold of a renewed ancient conflict. I damaged a priceless relic in the name of a spur-of-the-moment gut instinct following the behavior of certain individuals, uncaring as to the possibility it was incorrect. I attempted to destroy an ancient figure that once inspired hope as a turning point in a conflict lost to antiquity as a means of dissuading further intrusion against Adlehyde. I had toyed with the feelings of the antique weapon shop owner in Lacour in the name of furthering my investigations that didn't bear any fruit at the tail end of it. My decisive actions in a time of crisis had spurred a young woman of mysterious capabilities into a destructive spiral, the likes of which were far beyond my scope of understanding.

I was despondent, where she seemed to have found a peace and purpose that had eluded her for so long. I dared not voice my concern nor move to dampen what happiness she seemed to achieve, for I believed myself operating in a position of vulnerability and weakness. Miss Lunata had appeared to either select an incorrect tablet, or otherwise performed a taboo. I felt an immense pressure as my gaze fixated upon one of the remaining tablets. If I had suffered the same, I felt terrified about what could have come next - no matter the level of trust and acceptance they had given me even no more than a short number of days prior.

I did not know the meaning of the figure of the stone tablet I had gazed upon. I had utilized the Spectral Lens once more as a caution, to ensure I wasn't about to suffer the same rejection as Miss Lunata. This proved both unquestioned, and unnecessary. When I held it, I failed to comprehend the weight and significance of having been allowed to do so. Whatever mechanisms dictated by tradition were in place, I appeared to have succeeded over them through only an educated guess. There were seven tablets present, and seven human beings among us. I did not consider the possibility that this truly was more than an ancient, well-preserved show of lights and mirrors. I only accepted that it was a gesture of enough importance that I had at least needed to show some level of understanding.

The seeming failure of our party to deliver a convincing answer to the voices that represented the Guardians - except for Miss Jay herself, unless it was a mere consequence of the lighting versus where she stood among us at the time - may have thrown up a viable smoke screen. Mister Cyre's answer was passionate, even defiant. I was aware that Miss Catenna seemed shaken by having her devotion rebuked so, as she lagged behind some time later. Miss Lunata, so deeply entwined with an ancient tradition of which I still lacked a complete picture for, seemed lost for words.

Rather than dwell upon the truth of the seeming miracles to the rest of them, it was imperative I took ownership of the narrative. I insisted a trust was being placed in us, and a reassurance that I would have taken Miss Jay's lead even with doubts about how any of this related to what I must have been lost about Ignas for. It had helped that my words were genuine, if ultimately out of convenience. It was also out of concern for the explosions I was hearing outside of the temple. I did not believe it safe to stay - the sooner I had everyone agree we were to leave, the better. Any other words of encouragement and solidarity were only to compel us to leave as soon as we could.

I had taken an uncountable number of risks as I attempted to narrow down the answers. I felt no closer to discovery. In the process, I had accumulated only enemies in one hand, and further questions about my purpose being here. I knew it was unusual for me to be where I was for as long as I have. It was unusual that I would not have clarity of what I was after. It was further unusual that I had been even uncertain about where I was. I had no one to ask for help, for I knew at heart that anyone I could would not have been here for help. As it was, I had no choice but to maintain some appearance of solidarity.

In retrospect, it further troubled me that I could have only professed faith in the intangible through dishonesty. The idea of the lingering dead was not foreign unto itself, in the case of a curious manor, but several ideas still seemed yet to exceed my comprehension. In my time, I would have born witness to several speaking of those I could not see or grasp. There were instances where I believed in earnest I was being followed, but could not perceive their presence. The Malevolence... I came to believe in it. I remained in belief I had been exposed to it several times. This, combined with my ability to accept the idea of ghosts and the undead, had given me pause.

I seemed more comfortable in accepting the presence of ideas and items that were, to put it succinctly, /wrong/. I hadn't reason to consider why this was until now. To what life do I lead - did I lead - in which I accepted what was wrong, more than what was right? I did not have answers for that then, and I still did not now. It seemed strange, then, that Miss Lunata - by words of others - was in the company of a spirit of death. Others among the Caravan Kinship spoke of it, able to see it. This seemed to be under the prospective umbrella of the undead, in a sense, but I was unable to perceive this Ge Ramda by my eyes. I had found myself at a loss as to what I was lacking to have failed to be able to share the same perceptions as the others... but I was digressing.

Our solidarity was tested as we went back out into the middle of a brewing war. I was not unfamiliar with the Aveh and Kislev hostilities, and the presence of Metal Demon units went without further saying. I was in the company of no less than six frightened individuals who had their faiths simultaneously challenged and refocused, whom I felt important at the time to see through out of the battlefield. Even as I had narrowly avoided death by a direct hit from an artillery round, I kept as level a head as possible.

I understood the reality was that it was possible we all wouldn't have made it out alive together. Indeed, as matters stood, four of the Caravan Kinship were lost to us today. Miss Matilda had split from us prior to our exploration of the Guardian Temple, and I had not seen her nor the Honeybee since we left it. Miss Lunata appeared to sacrifice herself in order to buy us time, disappearing with numerous soldiers along with her Gear, and herself. Miss Catenna appeared overrun by the remaining soldiers. Mister Cyre had transformed himself - a phenomena I was certain I had seen before I met him, though I was at a loss as to what it was called - in hopes that we could have saved her in a final desperate plea that I was not able to honor.

I had thought earlier of my gunshot wounds. I had counted there were twenty at first. The odds gave me caution, but as the chaos unfolded, I took the chance. I did not question at the time why I was comfortable with attempting this, having understood I would be shot. I believed this was not a problem for me before, but as I sat with extracted bullets in hand, I had now had to wonder if this was a delusion brought on by desperation.

...Hm, no, I believe... yes. That was it. Were the circumstances not dire, I would have allowed myself a laugh at my expense. This was no time for it. Going forward, I would not have suffered this again. I was content to have an answer to that one, now, but I once again digressed.

Miss Shalune, Miss Jay, Miss Kourin, Spirit, and the shambling autonomous machine were the only ones to make it to the caravan. The caravan had come to where we were purely by chance, as scavengers had taken the abandoned vehicle for a joyride across the desert. I recalled Miss Shalune's furious protests, Miss Kourin's stunned silence... and Miss Jay's horror as I had suggested, insisted we had to have left then. I was not to die here. Whatever spurred me on - and it was not the matter of the stone tablet I had with me - it was of utmost importance the caravan kept going.

Which brought us to the present.

I sat with my wounds bandaged. In my left hand, an item I have had with me since I came to at the shallow crater. The stone that I had guarded from prying eyes as best as I could, even without having understood its meaning or its function. It brought me some level of security to have kept it close... and great tension in which to have kept it away from others. It was mine. Of this, I was certain. It could only be mine. Beyond this, I had no explanations. I rejected any notion that I should have asked someone else, and continued to do so even now. It was mine.

There was another item that now belonged to me as of this day.

I kept the stone tablet I received on my lap. The intricate carving of what I assumed to be a stylized trident head was striking, although I did not understand why. The loss of the more dedicated priests of the respective religion - Miss Lunata, Mister Cyre, and Miss Catenna - robbed me of the ability to have gleaned further context from their musings. If I was asked directly about my thoughts of whoever or whatever this was meant to depict, I could have only answered in silence. I am not certain the rest among us would have accepted it, or what they would have done.

I only understood that this was a significant event of the faiths in question, and resolved to keep it safe and whole. It made my thoughts drift back towards when Miss Riese had implored I cooperate with her Ebony Wings initiative. I had told her that the answers I sought were for me, and me alone. At the time, little else mattered other than having found my answers. I was now formally conscripted into some greater cause beyond my scope, whether I desired it or not. I resolved not to lose sight of my own cause - or, as it was, the search for what my cause was.

Someone had asked me earlier in the day, 'what is a star?' I did not know who asked that. I did not remember, precisely, when it was asked within the day. I did know I heard someone ask. I believe I gave an answer, though I did not have a sense as to when I did, or how I gave it. I had wondered if this was a trivial memory of a time before I awoke to the shallow crater, much like my seeming comfort in having played football in the company of strange creatures, but the question came to mind this day. Was this something I was supposed to ask another? It seemed foolish to dwell on.

That was the last digression I allowed myself.

I witnessed Miss Shalune approaching the front of the caravan. She would have had to have crossed me. I moved to hide the stone in my left hand from her, for the stone was mine, and mine alone. I said nothing, and allowed her towards the front as I watched her. Understandably, she remained in grief. I similarly allowed Miss Jay her space as she drove. I watched as Miss Shalune moved to embrace the closest friend she still had with her. Soon, they caravan stopped.

I considered my next course of action carefully. Miss Lunata, Mister Cyre, Miss Catenna, and Miss Matilda were likely lost. We were caught in the crossfire of multiple armies having brandished weapons of magnitudes above and beyond anything they had ever faced. I pondered the use of 'they,' rather than 'we,' for a moment. I decided this was unimportant. The Caravan Kinship was at the very cusp of dissolution.

If it did, I was at square one for my own ends. I wasn't to allow this to happen. With every passing day, there was a greater and greater urgency that I kept taking steps towards locating the truth of the matter. I had nothing I could say with honesty that would have compelled Miss Jay and Miss Shalune to have kept going.

My eyes turned to the stone tablet. I had an idea. In the face of a sobering reality, I chose then to reintroduce the memory of the fantastical, and readied the words I would have said. They were many. For their sheer volume, their nature needed to be precise.

I prepared once more to lie.

Whether I was doing it for their sake or mine, I did not consider. Another - I could not identify the 'another,' but I recognized the possibility of another - would have condemned these words I planned to speak as callous and cruel, to have buried what stood to be a hard truth under a comfortable fantasy of possibility.

I would have had this to say to this 'another,' whoever they may have been.

Miss Jay, Miss Shalune, and Miss Kourin...

They were my responsibility now.

I would have done anything it took to see this through.

No matter the scope and nature of all else I seemed to have entangled myself with, in spite of my best efforts...

All else was immaterial.

-

( Continues into: https://dreamchasers.space/2017-08-21:_A_Pillar_of_Support )