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Gegenji · **12-05-2014, 12:02 PM**

This will be your Trial of Purpose...

The conversation Chachanji Gegenji had held with Ser Coatleque Crofte in her office still flitted through his mind, even now. Behind closed eyes, he could recall staring down at his dangling feet from his chair, his little hands balled into thoughtful fists. She had set upon him a task, a task that had wound up with him silently questioning not only himself, but turning his questioning gaze upon every other Sultansworn and Paladin he had come across since. He had oft wanted to voice the question to them as well, but at the same time he wondered if the answer was something so sacrosanct that he should not pursue it except to those he called his teachers. And yet, it boiled down to the simplest question one might ask.

Such distractions were not to be had in combat, though - nor in combat training, which was the more proper term for what was going on at the moment - and Chachan nearly paid for it with a solid smack upside the head from Warren. The Free Paladin had forgone his true blade - a beast of tempered steel that was both larger than the Lalafell and even some Miqo'te! - for a less lethal training sword carved from wood. It still stung like the hells, but that was leagues better than the alternative. The Lalafell still avoided it as if it were live steel, skittering to the side even as he smacked at the weapon with his little buckler to deflect the blow - one of the many tricks he had learned under the watchful eye of Ser Warren Castille. Watchful eyes that were now regarding him curiously.

"You're distracted today," the Hyur stated - the tone implying a fact, but presented in a nudging way to draw the Lalafell's attentions back to the matter at hand. He followed it with a concerned but pressure-less: "What's going on?"

"Oh... err... sorry, Ser Warren," Chachanji responded as he got back on his feet. His sidewards stumble had sent him sprawling into the dusty ground that was so prevalent outside Ul'dah's stalwart walls. He took a moment to brush away the bits of earth that had decided to come along for the ride, returning them more or less to their rightful place in a terra-cotta shower. "I've jus' been... thinking..."

"Thinking too much on the battlefield could get you hurt," the Free Paladin warned, tapping his tiny pupil lightly on the shoulder with the tip of his wooden blade. His point emphasized thusly, he returned his weapon to its ready stance at his side. The blade might seem to hang somewhat limply and loose there, but the little Lalafell had quickly learned that it could burst into motion again at a moment's notice. When Chachan didn't immediately re-engage, Warren canted his head slightly, sparing a glance towards the position of the sun overhead.

"Do you need a break? We've been going at it for at least a couple bells now."

"Ah... s-sure."

With a nod, Warren sheathed both blade and shield in a singular, fluid motion; standing from his well-honed combat stance. The little Lalafell followed suite, albeit a little less elegantly, slipping his own weapon into its sheath. It too was a wooden affair, though of a slimmer style more fitting to his choice of sword. He had originally used his quite real indigo-hued blade in these sessions, but when they moved on to working on Chachanji's defensive capabilities and Warren had unsheathed his wooden replica instead of his mighty metallic slab on a stick... well, the energetic youngster had insisted in his own childish way that he should be using a training sword too.

The two found shelter under one of the few trees that dotted the landscape around the Jewel, seeking sanctuary from the relentless Thalanian sun overhead. From somewhere on his person, Warren produced a waterskin and offered it to his pupil. Chachanji took it readily with a smile and a word of thanks, drinking deep of the chilled water within before handing it back.

"Ser Warren... can I ask you a... bit of a personal question?" the Lalafell finally asked, his gaze up at what few clouds were lazily making their way across the sky. The Free Paladin paused in his own pull from the waterskin, his gaze glancing down towards the thoughtful-looking Lalafell. He lowered the skin and wiped at the remnant water still clinging to his lips, and gave a non-committed shrug of his broad shoulders.

"Why..." Chachanji paused, looking down at his lap for a second before turning his violet orbs upon his teacher. "Why did you want to become a Paladin?"

Warren Castille · **12-05-2014, 12:21 PM**

Warren's pale eyes gazed back at Chachanji's, shining bright with youthful vigor and a hint of shyness. He focused on one then the other, hesitating as he paused to draw the water skin back to his mouth before letting it slid towards the ground by the strap of it. The question was as easy as the answer, yet the words took their time forming on his lips just as they had waited in the lalafell's mind to come forth.

"I wanted to protect someone."

The words came out with a guarded tone, softer than his usual gruff teaching voice. It felt like a lifetime ago, and in many ways it had been. He could still remember sometimes, when the temperature was just right, and the scent on the breeze across Thanalan was the same as it had been back then. Bruised skin. Blood. Blue hair shifting gently in the wind, those eyes hurting and looking to him. His name, whispered without much power behind it at all.

Warren blinked, returning to the conversation. He'd no doubt had the same sort of wandering visage he'd drawn his ward from and allowed himself a small grin.

"Same as you. There's always people to protect." He continued to watch Chachanji's eyes, though, and something in them informed him that the slip of phrase hadn't gone unnoticed. Warren raised a hand after a moment and eased into his seat, getting comfortable in what little comfort a case of polished metal could provide.

"These sorts of stories always start with a girl, don't they?" His attention slipped from Chachanji and across the plains for a moment, though he spared the lalafell a knowing grin.

Gegenji · **12-05-2014, 01:13 PM**

"A girl?" Chachanji echoed curiously, eager for clarification. His own desire to help people, to protect them, was a more generalized feeling. He could easily recall those many days of his childhood watching his father hammer metal into shape, his mother selling the resulting armor and weapons to people with a cool business approach. The little Lalafell had never really seen the resulting products as merely things to turn a profit like they seemed to, but as armaments used to protect the weak and the defenseless. Many a daydream - oft superimposed over his intended lectures on economy and the importance of coin - consisted of the youngest Gegenji child donning his self-made armor and rescuing a princess or an entire warehouse of orphans.

In his mind, he possessed no singular event where he decided that protecting people was what he wanted to do. Heck, he might not have even mustered up to courage to go out on such a wild venture if it hadn't been for the precedence his older brother Gogonji had set for him. Despite his oddities, Chachanji had always held a fair bit of reverence and respect for both his parents and older siblings - still did, if he was to be honest with himself - so he had always resigned himself to his father's wishes. To forge sword and shield and sell them to the highest bidder like the rest of his family. To him, his father's decision was nothing short of unshakeable, infallible, and beyond reproach.

It had been Gogonji that had changed that, with that one happenstance moment where young Chachan had stumbled across the heated argument between father and son. All at once, the youngest Gegenji had seen his father as someone who could be confronted - defied, even! - and a reason to believe he could follow his own dreams presented in the shape of his older brother. Even after Gogon disappeared from his life, off to seek his own golden shores, and his father had dourly returned to shaping his youngest child to be his successor instead of his eldest, the seed was slowly taking root. All leading to the day when Chachanji followed his older brother's footsteps and refuted his lot in life.

And now here he was, in the land of his mother, learning swordplay from a towering bastion of good in the form of Ser Warren. At least, that's how the little Lalafell saw it anyway. He was here, learning from amazing people so that he might go out and do amazing things himself.

"... What was she like?"

Warren Castille · **12-05-2014, 01:28 PM**

Warren grinned at the boy's - regardless of age, Warren couldn't help but see him as a bit of a child - reticence at asking for more details. He realized that revealing bits of the person inside of the armor would chip away at whatever heroic ideals Chachanji had envisioned for the knight, but Warren wasn't terribly interested at playing the part of a hero. Instead, he glanced at his armored hand then turned it over and looked off to the horizon.

"Clever. Beautiful. Kind, but in her own way." Warren considered what she might say if she were there listening, but back then heaping compliments on her wasn't something she appreciated in public. "I found her in the fields one day, hurt. This was back before everything changed at Carteneau, back when the strange aetheric currents were making the animals and creatures behave oddly. She was gathering some herbs for dinner and she was attacked. Laid out under the sun for who knows how long before I happened upon her. I was out here with my pickaxe, working for the mining guild. Good ore was worth ten times then what it is now, mostly on account of the Garlean front and everything."

He paused a moment to reflect on the situation and felt his inside winces at the memory. Years later and it was still fresh to him, though given how much it would shape his path in life it wasn't surprising to him how clear and recent it all felt.

"I don't like to think about what would have happened had I not come around. I carried her back to Ul'dah in a panic, screaming for help. I was sure that if I'd've been there things would have gone differently. I knew then that if I could have protected her, she wouldn't have been hurt. I decided then that she'd never have to worry about that sort of thing again."

Warren's voice was full of determination, the sort of thing that he'd long thought and felt deep down. There was a resolve there, hinting at how powerful the decision had been, how strong the need was for him to see that decision through.

Gegenji · **12-05-2014, 02:00 PM**

While he was impressed with the fervor that was instilled in his arms teacher's voice, it caused a pang of guilt in Chachanji as well. He awe-struck gaze fell a bit, returning to that safe, introspective point that his lap so often was and turned over his own armored gauntlet that rested there. While he was not nearly as good a smith as his father, he was rather proud how his armor had turned out, modifications and all. His violet eyes looked beyond the armored shell at the moment, though, visualizing the small hand beneath.

"I... never had a big definin' moment like that," he admitted softly. "Day after day, I jus' saw weapons 'n armor being sold rather than used and it bugged me. I know that they're ultimately gonna be used somewhere beyond me sight, but I wanted ta be th' one usin' em. Ta be out there, protectin' people 'n bein' a hero."

The Lalafell tightened his hand into a fist, as if all that eagerness and energy he felt about his dream was to be gathered there in his armored grip. Yet, just as easily as it would have came, it seemed to drain away again and he uncurled his fingers. Chachan let his hand fall limp in his lap, turning his gaze upward to his teacher with a sad smile.

"My reasons aren't as..." He struggled for the proper word for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip, "real... as meaningful as yers. You saw someone hurt 'n wanted ta save 'em, 'n found purpose in that. I jus' wanted ta halp people wit me skills 'n be a hero, 'n that..." Another pause, another digging for the proper term before finally settling on a simple, subdued: "... just isn't."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"No wonder Ser Crofte wanted me ta do this."

Warren Castille · **12-05-2014, 02:17 PM**

Warren gaze lifted and he observed the lalafell's introspective moment. His words were spoken out loud but the paladin couldn't help but feel they happened regardless of his company. Chachanji was speaking words for himself to hear, and Warren just happened to be around and near enough to hear them.

He let the young man alone with his thoughts for a moment before breaking the silence that hung heavily between them.

"There's something noble about wanting to protect people sight unseen from the dangers of the world, of wanting to help out those who need it without knowing their name. The real question you've got to ask yourself is who you're doing it to help, though. Are you wanting to protect people because seeing them harmed hurts you too? Or are you doing it because helping them makes you feel good about yourself?"

Warren made sure to keep his tone soft and unguarded. He wasn't intending on lecturing by any stretch of the word.

"That's something I had to confront recently myself. I got good at protecting her, you know. I worked with sword and shield every night. I started working as a hammerer in the Bloodsands' pits just to watch the folks who did it for a living up close. I watched and practiced and committed myself to doing what they did. I've fought on those 'Sands, back when that meant something. She, uh... She didn't like that too much, but she did come watch." Warren again allowed himself a small, guilty smile.

"But I don't know if I was doing it for the right reasons. Things happen in this world, and she'd get hurt. When she got hurt, I'd get... difficult. I didn't want her wandering around without me, I didn't want her risking herself. As time went by, I became more and more protective, and when I'd finally pressed the issue too far, she decided maybe she didn't need me protecting her anymore." Warren's smile this time was matter of fact and empty. It was an understanding smile.

"I realized I wasn't protecting her for her, Chachanji. I was protecting her for me. I didn't learn that until it was far too late."

He allowed the words to hang in the air again before turning his gaze back in the lalafell's direction. "Do you think that made me less of a paladin, then? The man who did that back then is the same one who sits before you now. Does that change the fact I did manage to protect her?"

Gegenji · **12-05-2014, 02:51 PM**

"I..."

Chachanji soaked in his mentors words, his brief retelling of his past, took in his questions and mulled over them. Why did he want to protect people? His immediate response was that it was just the right thing to do - that's what you do when someone's in trouble, right? You help them.

There are many ways you can help people without becoming a Paladin.

Ser Crofte's words intruded on his thoughts again. He had not wanted to admit it - and it was still difficult to admit to, even now - but she had raised a very good point. He already did plenty of things to help people; he worked as an adventurer under Ms. Momodi's care to do errands and help the populace of Ul'dah. It wasn't the most heroic of work in his mind, but he was helping people, trying to make a difference. What would being a Paladin do differently, beyond the simple heroic mantle of its title?

Did he simply want recognition? To be readily identified as a hero due to his position as a Paladin? Ser Romy had mentioned that most heroes were merely those who died in a grand fashion, and that he'd be her hero if he simply completed his training. What really defined a hero, and was it something that he truly could attain? Did desiring to be a hero make him ineligible to become one?

"I still think yer really great, Ser Warren," he managed, speaking at least on something he knew for certain. He really did think the Hyur Free Paladin was an amazing person - kind and strong and willing to help. Even the bits about growing overprotective and ultimately realizing he was protecting people for his own purposes, it just made the Paladin all the more incredible to the little Lalafell. While Warren may have learned his reasons too late, he had learned them... and was trying to pass on the knowledge to him.

What grand mistake would Chachan commit before he realized his own reasons for wanting to protect people? Who would be hurt? Who might he lose? It was those uncertainties that worried the Lalafell and left him struggling for words.

"As fer me... I... I dunno," the youngest Gegenji admitted. "When I left me home, me life there... it all made sense. I'd be a hero, I'd protect people 'n that was that. But now... I'm not sure. I never really questioned th' 'why's' 'n now that I'm bein' asked ta, I'm drawin' a blank."

The Lalafell leaned back, letting his helmet thunk solidly against the trunk of the tree as he gazed up through its branches. He inhaled slowly through his nose, and exhalted slowly through his mouth. When he spoke again, his cobbled-together and rather bombastic "Eorzean" accent was weak - his mind too fixated elsewhere to keep up appearances. With all the thoughts and emotions flitting through his mind, it was a surprise he didn't just slip fully back into his native tongue.

"Maybe... I just wanted to be a hero for the sake of it..."

Warren Castille · **12-05-2014, 03:04 PM**

Warren nodded along as Chachanji worked out and pieced together the bits of his feelings out loud. Warren could relate to a degree, like any boy who'd grown up hearing stories could. Vast adventures, fighting dragons, finding treasures...! The sorts of things that kept a boy awake at night, and tricked him into eating his vegetables. For a few years, at any rate.

"I told you when we first started that I couldn't speak for what heroes did, and to this day I still can't. I do feel that wanting to help people is a good start. I think the heroism thing comes as a result of the deed, however, and not in reverse. Heroes don't rush into danger and protect people. Good people do, and sometimes a hero comes back instead."

The highlander wasn't sure how cheesy that sounded, but he didn't care. He did believe it that way, and he hoped he'd impart at least that it.

"Coming eye to eye with these sorts of worries and overcoming them, that's another good start." He half-raised a pointer finger and slumped down against the tree himself. With a loose shake of the digit he and Chachanji seemed to just be shooting the breeze to any who might be witnessing, and not discussing the deeper matters such as they were.

"I'm not going to discourage you. If you've got the itch to make a difference, you're going to, and you don't need any fancy title from anyone to guarantee that. I can't teach you how to be a hero, but I can teach you how to protect people. How to swing a sword and really mean it. I can show you how to be ready, should anyone need saving." He cast a lazy glance over at the boy, hoping to spur some sort of fire back in his belly.

"Are you sure you wanted to be a hero, Chachanji? Or did you only want to be one because those are the guys credited with doing all of the saving?" His question was the reverse of the one inferred previously; These sorts of weights were tricky, and even after a long period of self-reflection it was possible any answer the lalafell came to might be incorrect. Warren thought for years he was doing the right thing, only for him to narrowly miss the mark. He'd hoped Chachanji would at least have a chance at being aware of the possibility.

Gegenji · **12-05-2014, 03:36 PM**

Chachanji shook his head, causing a slight scraping sound as the ears of the stylized rabbit adorning his helmet scratched against the tree's bark along with the entire back of the helm itself.

"It's not about th' credit, I think," he responded, turning to look at Warren as he slowly slipped back into his "accent." "I still think that a lotta what 'heroes' do is th' right thing ta do. What you do, what Ms. Roen does, what Ser Crofte does. Ya help 'n protect 'n do all the things that I wanna do. Even if'n I don't know me own reasons fer it yet."

An odd feeling crept over the wee Lalafell as he made the acquiescence. He had always wanted to be a hero,Â sure, even if he hadn't known the how's and the why's of it. Yet, he wondered if he always had this... intensity about it, this drive. Sure, he had raised heated words over it with his father when he followed in Gogonji's footsteps, but even now he couldn't remember what he had said or even if they had any weight to them. At some point since then, something had happened that had solidified his dream into the beginnings of a sort of pseudo-purpose.

Was it that horrible Lalafell lady who berated his heritage, and the support he had gotten from his new-found friends like "Ms. Hat" Leanne and Ser Tarry afterward that had done it? Was it seeing that spastic Sultansworn hopeful - whose dream had rather closely matched his own - trying his best to help Ul'dah? No, the pieces were already falling into place by that point, the events just serving to further strengthen his resolve. Like a blade, those incidents had tempered and honed his desires, but what had been the first hammer-falls that had begun to shape untouched ingot of dreams and wishes in earnest?

Chachanji didn't know, but he knew discovering it would be important.

"But I'll find out, I need'ta find out," young Lalafell continued, that fire indeed back in his belly somewhat. A smile tugged at his lips even as the glimmer returned to his eyes. "If not fer meself, then fer Ser Crofte 'n you 'n e'ryone else. 'n then... when I finally do know it, I'll be ready fer it, thanks ta e'ryone who's halpin' me along th' way."

Warren Castille · **12-05-2014, 03:49 PM**

A sly smile played over Warren's face as Chachanji talked himself back into the fight. He briefly wondered if he should finish the story he began, tell him how things really turned out, but for the time being, he decided it was best to let it remain where it was.

"You sound pretty determined about that. That's good, I was worried for a moment you'd go back to the anvil and all of our progress here would have been lost." Warren smiled challengingly back at the lalafell and sat up properly. "I don't just teach anybody how to fight, you know."

Warren's attention briefly turned to the other paladins Chachanji had mentioned as part of his tutelage. While he had only met Roen a very few times, and once was under quite the duress, he had to wonder what had caused Coatleque to send the boy his way. There were certainly other talented swordsmen in the 'Sworn's order, and he wasn't affiliated in any official capacity with anyone who might be undergoing the oft-spoken of Sultansworn Trials. For some reason, she had sent the paladin-in-training to learn what Warren's reason for taking up the shield were.

"As long as you're sure this is the path you want to be on, I'll do my best to help you along it." His words were a simple offering and once again matter of fact. The truth was he liked Chachanji, and helping to build his abilities and confidence had not only been good for the lalafell but good for Warren, too. Both Howl and Sei had commented on his relatively improved demeanor at home, and while their presences were certainly a great deal of it it didn't hurt to be doing the Good Work once again.

"It's my belief that we're strong because of the things and the people we fight for. Find yourself the right reason, the right resolve, and you'll be unbreakable." There was that determination in his voice again. Warren spoke with confidence and certainty at the last part, his sword hand curling absentmindedly into a fist as he rehashed the idea in his mind.

Gegenji · **12-05-2014, 04:25 PM**

"I'm sure," Chachanji said with a nod, slowly climbing back to his feet and dusting himself off. He turned and gave a wry grin to the Hyur who, even sitting, was still taller than him. "I dunno why I'm so sure, but I know that I am. 'n I think Ser Crofte has me askin' so that I can hear other peoples' reasons, 'n help me figger out that 'why.' It's testin' me 'n halpin' me out at th' same time."

He pressed a finger to his lip in thought.

"Though... still gonna work th' anvil," he clarified. "After all, I want ta halp people wit me own hands, 'n that includes usin' arms 'n armor that I made meself. So I can't be slackin' on that end. Plus, there's this 'Sworn-in-Trainin' I know that's apparently pretty close ta gettin' fully inducted. I had promised ta make a sheath fer her a'forehand, but now I'm thinkin'a makin' it extra nice 'n givin' it ta her as a gift when she does."

The youngest Gegenji child already had some ideas in mind for that particular present. The base design was already in place - a sheath which had its inside lined just so with whetstones that drawing and returning the blade in turn helped keep it sharp. On the outside, however, he was thinking of surrounding the base metal frame with a nice wood - perhaps find an artisan to engrave some roses onto it to match her nickname. Lacquer that all up and a nice silk grip near the throat would top it all off splendidly. It'd be a lot of extra doings, but Chachan hoped she would like it.

That was for later, though. For now, as his arms teacher had said, he was being taught how to fight with sword and shield. That way the little Lalafell would be ready to protect people should the need arise, whether he understood why he was doing it or not. And, as the Free Paladin had also said, he didn't just teach anybody. That in and of itself had to mean something.

"A'ight, I think I'm ready fer some more practice," Chachanji intoned, interlacing his armored fingers together as he stretched them both up towards the sky. "If'n yer up fer it, a'course."

Warren Castille · **12-05-2014, 11:23 PM**

Warren's time spent kneeling before an anvil was something he was proud of. He'd never be able to put his name to a product or sell it for anything resembling an impressive price, but his ability to maintain his arms and armor was something he was proud of. Regarding his offensively large ceremonial weapon he was proud of the skills he'd aped from watching Howl at work; The finery of the blade were beyond his ability and he did his best to follow the leafing and patterns but his true ability was only in restoring the blade and balance.

Warren drew himself back to his feet and took a fair few steps out from under the tree. His protoge-of-sorts was prepared for the next round and he wanted to make sure they had room to play in.

"If you can't be talked out of it, I suppose I'll have to keep at this then." He grinned and drew his weapon with his back to Chachanji, turning and pointing the dulled tip of the wooden practice weapon at his charge with feigned determination. "Then let's see what you've got! Come at me with everything you think you've learned, son of Gegenji!"

Warren settled in behind his shield, emboldened by the attitude of the lalafell. He was pleased to see him rise above the wave of concern and worry, and Warren's role was far from over.

Gegenji · **12-06-2014, 12:12 PM**

"Akay!"

At the challenge, Chachanji flashed a silly little grin and unsheathed his own shield and sword. For brief moment, his mind flitted elsewhere once more, but this time it was back to when he had just started training under the imposing Hyur. The awkward battle cries and the wild swings that the Free Paladin had so easily turned aside with his shield, the bruises and bumps he had received from the many wallops following a misplaced block of his own. Just knowing he had progressed beyond that, that he managed more and more often to score that glancing blow on his teacher's armor, helped to bolster his spirits further.

After all, if he could learn how to learn to wield his blade and buckler, then by extension he should be able to learn why he wanted to wield them. It would just take the same sort of focus and perseverance he had put into his arms training, along with a little help from his teachers. Wonderful teachers - and the little Lalafell was already subconsciously including Ser Crofte amongst that number - that were certain to help him become the hero he wanted to be. Just as he had chosen them to teach him, they had in turn chosen to teach.

"Oh, by th' way! Ser Crofte sends her regards!" Chachanji commented, as if suddenly remembering that part of the conversation with the Sultansworn. Well, that was a half truth, at least - he had almost forgotten that part during his little soul-searching session. He also had not really felt that there had been a good point to mention it once he had remembered it. Now was probably not the best time either, but he said it anyway just as he lunged towards his teacher to begin their training anew.

For, after all, there was nothing saying he couldn't have a little fun with his training.

Warren Castille · **12-09-2014, 10:22 AM**

Warren kept them working under the sun until the fireball started to slack lazily off to the horizon. The lalafell's comment had seemingly no effect on the paladin and the sparring session that followed was thorough. It was only once they had taken a break to catch their breath and recuperate that Warren let himself process the words.

He was fairly certain Coatleque Crofte no longer considered himself a friend, and he suspected he barely made the qualification of "ally." While he had broken no laws he had surely wronged her, and her handling of him in public spaces had made it very clear that she was only tolerant of him because her position required it. Warren was able to surmise that Chachanji was sent his way because of his aptitude with weapon and armor, and Warren had proven his mettle in combat more than once in her company. That, however, did not dictate niceties being leveraged his way. Warren was all but ignored on duty now, except for the times when he or Howl or Sei were being glared at by the various 'Sworn in or around Crofte's circle of trusted companions. The lines were clearly drawn.

Not for the first time, Warren considered that perhaps his role in Chachanji's learning would do the student no favors in his career.

Gegenji · **12-09-2014, 11:26 AM**

A few suns later...

Avenger trilled lightly under Chachanji's touch as he patted the bird on the neck, the two of them looking over the Royal Plantations just to the northeast of the Jewel and its towering walls. The shade cast down on them by the lone tree on the hill kept the harshest of the Thanalan sun at bay, small patches of light cascading down through the latticework of branches to cast a myriad of patterns down on both Chocobo and rider. One particular ray of light had been relatively constant on the back of the Lalafell's neck and he shifted his mount over a step to escape its insistent touch. The youngest Gegenji spared a moment to rub at the warmed spot with a hand, trying fruitlessly to glance at it with a sidewards glance before returning to scanning of the surrounding area.

He was meeting with his other teacher today, the gentle Miss Roen Deneith. Like Ser Warren, he had come across her by happenstance - though fortunately not one that included angry bees, he was quite done with that sort of thing - and found a heroic aspect in her that he so desired to emulate. Like Ser Warren, he had approached her about learning from her once he had been told to seek instruction. And like Ser Warren, she had accepted - albeit a bit more tentatively than the Highlander. However, as a counterpoint and added bonus, she had also been helping him learn how to ride a Chocobo after his childish excitement had resulted in him procuring one for the sole (and, to him, very valid) reason of "he could have his own Chocobo."

It was potentially for one of these lessons that Chachanji was out here on the hill this afternoon, his eager violet eyes peeled for his mentor's form in the distance. Getting in touch with the "Free-Sworn" had always been a bit harder than with his arms teacher, who oft patrolled around Ul'dah proper and could even be found in the Quicksand on occasion, and the plan for the day much less certain than just "practice swording." It could be a visit to the refugee camps to help those worse off, another lesson on how to wrangle his bird into doing what he wanted, or maybe some other surprise altogether that she had planned for him. All the Lalafell knew was that he was to meet the lady Hyur here, at the point where he had gotten his first lesson in Chocobo-riding.

Of course, he wasn't without his own potential surprise twist to the day's events. With any luck, he would be presenting the same question to her that he had to Ser Warren during their last training session. The answerÂ he had received in return was, as Ser Crofte had probably intended, rather insightful into figuring out his own motivations. He was still stumbling over the "why" of his determination, of course, but the youngest Gegenji felt that he'd have a much clearer answer once he possessed a longer list of reasons to compare and contrast against. He had even tried asking Ser Romy in passing a sun or two ago, although she either did not hear him or dismissed the question out of hand; it was always hard to tell with her.

Even now, waiting atop the hill, Chachanji couldn't help but wonder what her answer might be and his mind was all too eager to provide potential answers of its own. Was she like Ser Warren, who had taken up sword and shield because of a girl - which may or may not be a guy in her case, he wasn't one to judge - that he had wanted to protect? Had she seen all the refugees in their sorry states and sworn to take up arms to defend them since they couldn't protect themselves? Had she suffered a great tragedy and thusly sworn to never let someone else suffer that sort of pain and anguish ever again?

... Whoa, where'd that last one come from?

The Lalafell didn't get much time to muse on the nature of his whimsical thoughts, however, for the sound of someone approaching quickly drew his attention to things much more tangible.

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Paladin's Proof [Closed - COMPLETE]

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