"Do you have a place to stay?" Ashur asked, suddenly aware that he didn't actually know where the hospitaliers and chirurgeons actually slept, or how often they managed to sleep at all. Stella was visibly worn down, though something about her--her willpower or a defiant spirit--did its best to mask that fact. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't concerned about her state. "The Lord Commander has declared a state of high alert for the entire city. It'd be best that you not get caught up in the patrols."
Stella seemed to hesitate before answering his question. "My family's estate in the Pillars. I am not on duty for the night, else I would stay in the barracks with the other hospitaliers."
Ashur did his best to conceal his surprise. Was she nobility? Suddenly he felt somewhat uncomfortable. Though technically they were both equal in status thanks to his knighthood, Ashur felt lowborn through-and-through; many highborn knights continued to look down upon him and Alric.
He coughed into his gauntlet, suddenly feeling underdressed despite the fact that Stella's unkempt chirurgeon robes were stained with blood. "I will escort you regardless, Lady Stella. Better safe than sorry, and my patrol rounds require my presence in the Pillars anyway." That last part was a lie, but Ashur couldn't very well leave her to walk home alone as the sun was setting, and just after a wyvern attack.
Stella shot him a sharp glare. "You can drop the 'Lady' title," she responded dourly. "And I am quite capable of making it home alone. You're dismissed, or however your superior would put it."
Now it was Ashur's turn to frown, though he didn't return the glare. She's some part nobility, alright. He recognised the dismissive tone with which Stella seemed to try to shoo him away with. It was the same disdainful tone the other squires had teased him with upon finding out he was from the Brume, and it put him on edge.
"I'd be remiss if I allowed a lady to return without escort in these trying times," Ashur replied dryly. Two could play at that game.
The two of them stared at each other for a time in silence, as if testing each others' wills, before Stella sighed and ran a hand through her hair in defeat. "Do as you wish," she muttered with exasperation. Proffering a slight grin at his petty victory, Ashur followed her as they made their way to the Pillars.
Still, some part of Stella bothered him. She was certainly a strong young woman with iron will, but her basic lack of respect regarding Ser Traidelle and the rites was...unusual. Even Ashur, a lowborn, had the Enchiridion instilled within him from an early age--it was a necessity to prove one's devotion to the Fury to become a Temple Knight, after all. Was it her upbringing? Was it the nature of her profession? Ashur had to admit that he might have a harsher view of Halone if he was in her position, but still...
Some part of his expression must have showed his curiosity, because Stella huffed and abruptly stopped before turning and glaring at him again. "If you want to say something, then say it. You look like an overripe melon about to explode with that kind of face." With that, she spun on her heels and began walking again.
"D-did I look like a melon...?" Ashur wondered aloud, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry. He quickly caught up to Stella and coughed. Well, she did say...
"I was wondering what your opinions were on the Fury," the knight asked. Almost immediately he regretted it. What a stupid way to ask that question!
Evidently Stella thought the same thing, for she merely scoffed. "Are you asking for a debate on theology, now of all times? I don't much care for it."
"No," Ashur responded, somewhat emboldened now that his thoughts were more organized. "But most chirurgeons I have seen offered the rite of passage to those who...well, pass while under their care. You don't seem to have the patience for such things." Well, okay, again that was not the best way to put it, but...
Stella visibly bristled at the comment. "I apologize if my lack of superfluous ceremony disconcerts you, Ser Ashur," she replied sarcastically. "I'd much rather focus on saving the living than honouring the dead."
"You don't believe that such rites have any importance?" Ashur inquired, somewhat surprised. Were most chirurgeons as lacking in piety or was it just her?
"I believe there are more important things to do than singing the praises of a sky fairy into the ears of a dying man," Stella snapped.
Ashur wasn't necessarily the most devout man ever--he'd fallen asleep at more than one Halonic sermon, and he and Alric had regularly used their copies of the Enchiridion as makeshift projectile weapons in their youth--but he was still raised as an Ishgardian, with an earnest if clumsy belief in the Fury. Her words startled him. Stella was a strong woman, but he hadn't been expecting her to be so...prickly.
"They aren't empty praises," Ashur said earnestly. "Halone provides us with Her grace and protection--"
"You mean Her protection that leaves men spilling their guts out in the infirmary? That protection?" Stella scoffed.
Now it was Ashur's turn to bristle. There was a difference between lacking piety and merely being ignorant! "She is not all-powerful; the Twelve oft do not manifest in the realm of mortals, and even then rarely. Yet She is a protector. She guards our spirits and our resolve so that we may guard our bodies, and those of our fellows." The more he thought about what to say, the more he frowned. "Those rites aren't empty words. They allow the living to move on after their loved ones have passed. The dead may not hear them, but those who are left behind certainly do."
Truly, though, Ashur had to admit that Stella had something of a point. He remembered bitter memories, asking Halone where Her grace was when his father was claimed by the pox. When another freezing night swept through the Brume, there was little comfort to be found in the Enchiridion.
Still, despite such moments of weakness, Halone was Ishgard, and Ishgard was Halone. Faith in one meant faith in the other.
It seemed some part of his words resonated with Stella, or perhaps she had simply gotten tired of arguing. "You may be right, but I would still prefer to spend my time on this world doing rather than praying." It was a sentiment the knight had no proper response to. Ashur recalled Stella's words from the other day. "Your gratitude better spent on the ones who pulled you off the battlefield and away from the brink of death."
He could imagine it being frustrating serving as a chirurgeon, working with the wounded, the dead, and the dying, and hearing only praises to the Fury. Though Ashur still earnestly believed in the place of the rites and Halone, perhaps Stella's irritation was not so unreasonable. As she said, she worked to save everyone she could, and if her time could be spent saving another...
Would he want her to waste time on prayer if it were him or Alric at stake? Ashur couldn't think of a truly honest answer.
The two walked in silence until they stood in front of a large estate. It was a house many times larger than Ashur's own, and yet there were no lights or any indication of activity. Again, the knight was reminded of the considerable gap in status, and shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
Stella turned and gave a curt, practical nod. After some brief hesitation, she spoke. "...thank you for the escort, however unnecessary it was," she said tersely.
Ashur returned the nod, though before Stella opened the door, he called out to her. "Lady Stella."
"I told you to drop the stupid title," the chirurgeon said, turning around with a frown.
"Ah. Apologies. But...thank you for what you do. Truly." Ashur gave a low, deferential bow. Was there a reason he was doing this? Again, he thought of her words. The Fury was a protector, but surely that meant the chirurgeons and hospitaliers were the conduits of Her mercy. Again, were he in her position he might feel quite frustrated if Halone received all the credit.
Stella didn't respond, only giving another slight nod as she retreated into the estate, shutting the heavy door behind her.
As soon as she was out of sight, Ashur was punching the bridge of his nose. "Well, that was...probably disastrous," he murmured to himself before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Hands were clasped behind his back as he sauntered off, struggling to recall his patrol route...
Stella seemed to hesitate before answering his question. "My family's estate in the Pillars. I am not on duty for the night, else I would stay in the barracks with the other hospitaliers."
Ashur did his best to conceal his surprise. Was she nobility? Suddenly he felt somewhat uncomfortable. Though technically they were both equal in status thanks to his knighthood, Ashur felt lowborn through-and-through; many highborn knights continued to look down upon him and Alric.
He coughed into his gauntlet, suddenly feeling underdressed despite the fact that Stella's unkempt chirurgeon robes were stained with blood. "I will escort you regardless, Lady Stella. Better safe than sorry, and my patrol rounds require my presence in the Pillars anyway." That last part was a lie, but Ashur couldn't very well leave her to walk home alone as the sun was setting, and just after a wyvern attack.
Stella shot him a sharp glare. "You can drop the 'Lady' title," she responded dourly. "And I am quite capable of making it home alone. You're dismissed, or however your superior would put it."
Now it was Ashur's turn to frown, though he didn't return the glare. She's some part nobility, alright. He recognised the dismissive tone with which Stella seemed to try to shoo him away with. It was the same disdainful tone the other squires had teased him with upon finding out he was from the Brume, and it put him on edge.
"I'd be remiss if I allowed a lady to return without escort in these trying times," Ashur replied dryly. Two could play at that game.
The two of them stared at each other for a time in silence, as if testing each others' wills, before Stella sighed and ran a hand through her hair in defeat. "Do as you wish," she muttered with exasperation. Proffering a slight grin at his petty victory, Ashur followed her as they made their way to the Pillars.
Still, some part of Stella bothered him. She was certainly a strong young woman with iron will, but her basic lack of respect regarding Ser Traidelle and the rites was...unusual. Even Ashur, a lowborn, had the Enchiridion instilled within him from an early age--it was a necessity to prove one's devotion to the Fury to become a Temple Knight, after all. Was it her upbringing? Was it the nature of her profession? Ashur had to admit that he might have a harsher view of Halone if he was in her position, but still...
Some part of his expression must have showed his curiosity, because Stella huffed and abruptly stopped before turning and glaring at him again. "If you want to say something, then say it. You look like an overripe melon about to explode with that kind of face." With that, she spun on her heels and began walking again.
"D-did I look like a melon...?" Ashur wondered aloud, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry. He quickly caught up to Stella and coughed. Well, she did say...
"I was wondering what your opinions were on the Fury," the knight asked. Almost immediately he regretted it. What a stupid way to ask that question!
Evidently Stella thought the same thing, for she merely scoffed. "Are you asking for a debate on theology, now of all times? I don't much care for it."
"No," Ashur responded, somewhat emboldened now that his thoughts were more organized. "But most chirurgeons I have seen offered the rite of passage to those who...well, pass while under their care. You don't seem to have the patience for such things." Well, okay, again that was not the best way to put it, but...
Stella visibly bristled at the comment. "I apologize if my lack of superfluous ceremony disconcerts you, Ser Ashur," she replied sarcastically. "I'd much rather focus on saving the living than honouring the dead."
"You don't believe that such rites have any importance?" Ashur inquired, somewhat surprised. Were most chirurgeons as lacking in piety or was it just her?
"I believe there are more important things to do than singing the praises of a sky fairy into the ears of a dying man," Stella snapped.
Ashur wasn't necessarily the most devout man ever--he'd fallen asleep at more than one Halonic sermon, and he and Alric had regularly used their copies of the Enchiridion as makeshift projectile weapons in their youth--but he was still raised as an Ishgardian, with an earnest if clumsy belief in the Fury. Her words startled him. Stella was a strong woman, but he hadn't been expecting her to be so...prickly.
"They aren't empty praises," Ashur said earnestly. "Halone provides us with Her grace and protection--"
"You mean Her protection that leaves men spilling their guts out in the infirmary? That protection?" Stella scoffed.
Now it was Ashur's turn to bristle. There was a difference between lacking piety and merely being ignorant! "She is not all-powerful; the Twelve oft do not manifest in the realm of mortals, and even then rarely. Yet She is a protector. She guards our spirits and our resolve so that we may guard our bodies, and those of our fellows." The more he thought about what to say, the more he frowned. "Those rites aren't empty words. They allow the living to move on after their loved ones have passed. The dead may not hear them, but those who are left behind certainly do."
Truly, though, Ashur had to admit that Stella had something of a point. He remembered bitter memories, asking Halone where Her grace was when his father was claimed by the pox. When another freezing night swept through the Brume, there was little comfort to be found in the Enchiridion.
Still, despite such moments of weakness, Halone was Ishgard, and Ishgard was Halone. Faith in one meant faith in the other.
It seemed some part of his words resonated with Stella, or perhaps she had simply gotten tired of arguing. "You may be right, but I would still prefer to spend my time on this world doing rather than praying." It was a sentiment the knight had no proper response to. Ashur recalled Stella's words from the other day. "Your gratitude better spent on the ones who pulled you off the battlefield and away from the brink of death."
He could imagine it being frustrating serving as a chirurgeon, working with the wounded, the dead, and the dying, and hearing only praises to the Fury. Though Ashur still earnestly believed in the place of the rites and Halone, perhaps Stella's irritation was not so unreasonable. As she said, she worked to save everyone she could, and if her time could be spent saving another...
Would he want her to waste time on prayer if it were him or Alric at stake? Ashur couldn't think of a truly honest answer.
The two walked in silence until they stood in front of a large estate. It was a house many times larger than Ashur's own, and yet there were no lights or any indication of activity. Again, the knight was reminded of the considerable gap in status, and shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
Stella turned and gave a curt, practical nod. After some brief hesitation, she spoke. "...thank you for the escort, however unnecessary it was," she said tersely.
Ashur returned the nod, though before Stella opened the door, he called out to her. "Lady Stella."
"I told you to drop the stupid title," the chirurgeon said, turning around with a frown.
"Ah. Apologies. But...thank you for what you do. Truly." Ashur gave a low, deferential bow. Was there a reason he was doing this? Again, he thought of her words. The Fury was a protector, but surely that meant the chirurgeons and hospitaliers were the conduits of Her mercy. Again, were he in her position he might feel quite frustrated if Halone received all the credit.
Stella didn't respond, only giving another slight nod as she retreated into the estate, shutting the heavy door behind her.
As soon as she was out of sight, Ashur was punching the bridge of his nose. "Well, that was...probably disastrous," he murmured to himself before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Hands were clasped behind his back as he sauntered off, struggling to recall his patrol route...
