Roen's impressing upon him that his desires weren't as ill-placed as he seemed to think brought a timid smile to the little Lalafell's lips. It didn't last too long, however, as the Hyur quickly set to brass tacks on the seriousness of the situation he was dealing with. The words struck home easily enough, especially considering the situations he had been a part of even before becoming a Paladin. The whole situation with Ser Romy - from the head brought to her by a pair of Miqo'te to losing an arm to putting his freshly crafted armor he had made at her behest to the test by absorbing an explosion - was proof enough of that.
"I... I don't want ta jus' do th' easier thing, though, Ms. Roen," Chachanji murmured as she cautioned him. While he may not have known the reasons behind his determination quite yet, it still remained as unbending and stalwart as ever. He turned his violet gaze upon his mentor. "I wanna do th' right thing, I want ta protect people in need - I want ta halp."
Her offer of assistance brought the smile back to his face again as he turned his attentions to his almost-forgotten apple. He had taken a big bite out of it as she continued, the chewing becoming slower and more spaced out as she explained exactly what he would be doing. Dedicating his life to protecting people, to the point of swearing an Oath to do so, it certainly seemed all the heavier and dramatic hearing Roen say it. Yet, despite all that...
"But... that's what I want ta do," the little Dunesfolk stated with a bit of confusion. "I want ta protect those in need, 'n I'd want ta even if'n I didn't hafta swear an Oath ta do so. I was raised learnin' how ta make weapons 'n armor... told ta sell 'em ta whoever'd pay th' coin fer it. But... I'd rather use th' stuff I made... ta halp people meself. Rather'n jus' off it on 'em 'n wish 'em th' best'a luck..."
It all came back to the same question, though: why? Why did he want to become a Paladin? Why did he want to protect people so much. It had originally been just out of aspirations of wanting to be the hero he dreamed of being as a little tyke - that much he was begrudgingly willing to admit to himself. Yet, something had changed that, tempered it into a true desire and a true calling.
As with Ser Warren, he found himself trying to remember exactly when that moment came, aided by the new knowledge garnered from his second mentor. It had something to do with loss... with fear, of that he was fairly certain. It just seemed on the tip of his tongue, on the peripherals of his thoughts. Perhaps it just needed another nudge, another event to jar it from its hiding spot and bring it to the forefront of his mind. Yet, for now, he was still in the dark.
"That's... that's what I'm tryin' ta figger out, Ms. Roen," the youngest Gegenji admitted, after politely swallowing the bits of apple he had been masticating thoughtfully. "'n... 'n this is all really halpin', I think. This talkin' ta ya 'n Ser Warren, hearin' yer own reasons 'n usin' that ta figger out mine. Ser Crofte is really smart, huh? If'n I hadn't'a asked her ta teach me like ya 'n Ser Warren, I might'a never really thought 'bout th' whys of it..."
Again, his mind wandered in search for that moment in time where fancy honed itself into purpose. Bits of sight and sound bubbling up from the slurry of memories within his little head. He was at... the Quicksand, he knew that much. He'd been there long enough to recognize it from almost any angle at this point.
He had been doing... something. About to take Gran out for his daily evening walk, perhaps? Getting a bite to eat at the bar from the smiling Ms. Momodi and her staff? Or maybe just running around the establishment like he was wont to do when his tasks for the day were done and he had naught on his plate to attend to, arms out at his side and pretending his was an airship in search for friends and adventure. All pretty likely possibilities.
But then something had stopped him dead in his tracks, regardless of whatever tracks they were. It had been... something he had overheard being said by someone at one of the tables, perhaps. A bit of rumor and banter that had floated to his long ears as if it had been actively seeking him out. He couldn't quite remember what was said, or even the type of person who had said it, but it had sent chills through his spine. It had been...
Doma.
The single word hit Chachanji like an out-of-control Fat Chocobo chasing after a rolling gysahl green, the apple he had been slowly working his way through tumbling forgotten into the dirt. They had been talking about Garlemald's razing of Doma, and the horror that had crept into him then came back just as quickly now. He had panicked, forgotten about whatever else he had been doing at the time, rushing towards those disembodied voices for clarification.
He had needed to know more - something, anything. But the Quicksand had been horrifically crowded that day, and the conversation had turned away from it. He had spent the rest of the day desperately trying to find out more about the rumor - if it was true, when it had happened, why it had happened. And, most importantly, if anyone had survived.
If his family had survived.
It had been a fear that stayed with him, darkened his thoughts and his spirits, until the day the refugees turned up at the gates of Ul'dah seeking shelter. And when he found his family again amongst the rabble, their rejoining being a light that pierced the darkness. Learning that they could not stay in Ul'dah with him had been a painful thing, of course - along with the incident that had almost had him shipped off along with them - but it was not nearly as heartrending as the thought of losing them entirely.
Was... was that it then, was that the defining moment? He had tasted of the fear of loss and desired to protect others from that horrible feeling? It almost seemed too... simple... too trite a reason to be true. And yet, all of his more determined attempts to attain paladin-hood had all occurred after all of that: improving his swordsmanship, taking on mentors, actively defending people. Before then, he had been happy enough just helping folks through the various odds and ends done through the Adventurer's Guild.
He had lost a home, and almost lost a family. In that he had found a reason to protect others: so that no one else might risk losing their home, their friends, their family. That had been his Purpose. That was why he wanted to be a Paladin.
"I... I don't want ta jus' do th' easier thing, though, Ms. Roen," Chachanji murmured as she cautioned him. While he may not have known the reasons behind his determination quite yet, it still remained as unbending and stalwart as ever. He turned his violet gaze upon his mentor. "I wanna do th' right thing, I want ta protect people in need - I want ta halp."
Her offer of assistance brought the smile back to his face again as he turned his attentions to his almost-forgotten apple. He had taken a big bite out of it as she continued, the chewing becoming slower and more spaced out as she explained exactly what he would be doing. Dedicating his life to protecting people, to the point of swearing an Oath to do so, it certainly seemed all the heavier and dramatic hearing Roen say it. Yet, despite all that...
"But... that's what I want ta do," the little Dunesfolk stated with a bit of confusion. "I want ta protect those in need, 'n I'd want ta even if'n I didn't hafta swear an Oath ta do so. I was raised learnin' how ta make weapons 'n armor... told ta sell 'em ta whoever'd pay th' coin fer it. But... I'd rather use th' stuff I made... ta halp people meself. Rather'n jus' off it on 'em 'n wish 'em th' best'a luck..."
It all came back to the same question, though: why? Why did he want to become a Paladin? Why did he want to protect people so much. It had originally been just out of aspirations of wanting to be the hero he dreamed of being as a little tyke - that much he was begrudgingly willing to admit to himself. Yet, something had changed that, tempered it into a true desire and a true calling.
As with Ser Warren, he found himself trying to remember exactly when that moment came, aided by the new knowledge garnered from his second mentor. It had something to do with loss... with fear, of that he was fairly certain. It just seemed on the tip of his tongue, on the peripherals of his thoughts. Perhaps it just needed another nudge, another event to jar it from its hiding spot and bring it to the forefront of his mind. Yet, for now, he was still in the dark.
"That's... that's what I'm tryin' ta figger out, Ms. Roen," the youngest Gegenji admitted, after politely swallowing the bits of apple he had been masticating thoughtfully. "'n... 'n this is all really halpin', I think. This talkin' ta ya 'n Ser Warren, hearin' yer own reasons 'n usin' that ta figger out mine. Ser Crofte is really smart, huh? If'n I hadn't'a asked her ta teach me like ya 'n Ser Warren, I might'a never really thought 'bout th' whys of it..."
Again, his mind wandered in search for that moment in time where fancy honed itself into purpose. Bits of sight and sound bubbling up from the slurry of memories within his little head. He was at... the Quicksand, he knew that much. He'd been there long enough to recognize it from almost any angle at this point.
He had been doing... something. About to take Gran out for his daily evening walk, perhaps? Getting a bite to eat at the bar from the smiling Ms. Momodi and her staff? Or maybe just running around the establishment like he was wont to do when his tasks for the day were done and he had naught on his plate to attend to, arms out at his side and pretending his was an airship in search for friends and adventure. All pretty likely possibilities.
But then something had stopped him dead in his tracks, regardless of whatever tracks they were. It had been... something he had overheard being said by someone at one of the tables, perhaps. A bit of rumor and banter that had floated to his long ears as if it had been actively seeking him out. He couldn't quite remember what was said, or even the type of person who had said it, but it had sent chills through his spine. It had been...
Doma.
The single word hit Chachanji like an out-of-control Fat Chocobo chasing after a rolling gysahl green, the apple he had been slowly working his way through tumbling forgotten into the dirt. They had been talking about Garlemald's razing of Doma, and the horror that had crept into him then came back just as quickly now. He had panicked, forgotten about whatever else he had been doing at the time, rushing towards those disembodied voices for clarification.
He had needed to know more - something, anything. But the Quicksand had been horrifically crowded that day, and the conversation had turned away from it. He had spent the rest of the day desperately trying to find out more about the rumor - if it was true, when it had happened, why it had happened. And, most importantly, if anyone had survived.
If his family had survived.
It had been a fear that stayed with him, darkened his thoughts and his spirits, until the day the refugees turned up at the gates of Ul'dah seeking shelter. And when he found his family again amongst the rabble, their rejoining being a light that pierced the darkness. Learning that they could not stay in Ul'dah with him had been a painful thing, of course - along with the incident that had almost had him shipped off along with them - but it was not nearly as heartrending as the thought of losing them entirely.
Was... was that it then, was that the defining moment? He had tasted of the fear of loss and desired to protect others from that horrible feeling? It almost seemed too... simple... too trite a reason to be true. And yet, all of his more determined attempts to attain paladin-hood had all occurred after all of that: improving his swordsmanship, taking on mentors, actively defending people. Before then, he had been happy enough just helping folks through the various odds and ends done through the Adventurer's Guild.
He had lost a home, and almost lost a family. In that he had found a reason to protect others: so that no one else might risk losing their home, their friends, their family. That had been his Purpose. That was why he wanted to be a Paladin.
~