Paladin's Proof [Closed - COMPLETE]

[Gegenji]

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]

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]

"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]

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]

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]

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]

"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]

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]

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, 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]

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]

"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]

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]

"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]

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]

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 answer  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.

[Roen]

A Free-Sworn.

 

That is what Chachanji Gegenji had called her, the last time they had spoken.

 

Goldwind slowed into an easy trot as Roen pulled on his reins slightly, the mount and rider approaching the bridge overlooking Fresca’s Wash. The path from Lost Hope to the Royal Plantations was one that Goldwind knew well, so the paladin allowed her bird to make his way there as she let her own mind wander.

 

She had met the young Lalafell during one of her trips to Stonesthrow, delivering medicine and food. It was his baby piglet that had made the introductions when he ran into her leg and caused her to stumble. After a few broken jars and spilled supplies, Chachanji had helped her in gathering what was salvageable and more importantly, helping to convince Lancel’s father--that proud man--in accepting her offer of alchemical remedies.

 

Roen could not help but smile a little at the memory, Chachanji’s twisted expression rising to the fore as he took a finger full of the awful tasting syrupy tincture into his mouth, just to convince the ailing Highlander that if he can take the medicine, so can the older man.

 

It had worked, Lowell accepted the offering reluctantly.

 

Since that day, Roen had found herself delighting in their chance encounters. The last time that they had met, she had offered to teach him how to ride properly, for the young aspiring ‘hero’ had hastily gotten himself a chocobo without even learning how to rightly sit on a saddle. But such was the enthusiasm and excitement that shone in the Lalafell’s young eyes, that she found herself volunteering to instruct him so that he took no more falls off his bird--a tiny chocobo he had named "Avenger."

 

Not so ready was her response when Chachanji then asked her to teach him the ways of being a paladin. She once swore the Oath of a Sultansworn, only to leave the Order, and now she worked as a Free Paladin, but could not offer her services openly in Thanalan because she could still be arrested if discovered. She knew that Ser Castille was already teaching Chachanji how to fight with a sword and shield, and the Lalafell also had intended to approach Ser Crofte in learning about bravery and vigilance of a Sworn. So what, if anything, had she to offer the boy?

 

“You can teach me how to halp people,” Chachanji had replied to her earnestly.

 

Roen tried to refuse, but she could not. How could she when all she saw in his face was that eagerness to help others, that pure desire to see to those in need? That ardor she recognized easily enough; it was something that drove her every action when she had first come to Ul’dah. And Chachanji was a bit like she was back then, full of hope that if he just continued to help people, he would achieve all that he desired--that the abstract idea of helping people was all that mattered.

 

A part of her wondered if that still held true for her now. Her faith in her ideals had been tested many times since, and sometimes she could not help but doubt her own hopes in the face of what seemed like indomitable obstacles. Her mind questioned her heart oft of late, and in rare moments she wondered if she had strayed from the path of virtue and righteousness in her current goals and alliances.

 

The paladin quickly dismissed the heavy thoughts from her mind as she spotted the Lalafell in the distance, seated on Avenger. A smile easily rose as she looked upon the young paladin-in-training, Goldwind coming to a stop just a couple of fulms away. The larger chocobo let out a happy kweh in greeting, as if mirroring Roen’s own mood--already lighter in the boy’s presence.

 

“You are early.” Roen inclined her head in greeting. “The mark of an eager student.” She nodded in approval as she noted how Chachanji sat on Avenger, both the rider and bird much less fidgety since their last lesson. He also sported no more obvious bruises; he had not been falling as much, she gathered.

 

“You and Avenger have gotten to know each other better, I suspect.” The paladin grinned. “So! I propose we do something a little different this day. It should test how well you and Avenger get along.” She clapped her hands once, mirth in her eyes. “And it will be fun.”

[Gegenji]

All the remnants of Lalafell's musings on Roen's reasons for Paladinhood evaporated immediately once she came into view. He was still quite eager to know the hows and whys of her path, of course, but he was also very eager to find out what the day's lesson plan was. In fact, for whatever reason, the chance at more Chocobo riding tricks seemed a little more appealing than an afternoon focused solely on deep-seated introspection. It was the darndest thing.

 

"Ah, Ms. Roen! Haldo!" The greeting at her approach was light and cheery, coupled with an energetic wave from his seat that elicited a small, surprised wark from his young mount. That hand was then quickly re-purposed into bashfully fiddling with his Cactaur-shaped earring when she complimented his timeliness, a small chuckle escaping his lips before he was able to respond in a more concrete fashion. "Well, ya said ta come meet ya here, so... so I did."

 

It was not the most learned of explanations, but it suited the youngest Gegenji just fine. And it was not like the statement, as clumsy as it was, wasn't truthful. Whether it be with his friends or his mentors, Chachanji truly enjoyed spending time with those closest to him. If they were upset, he wanted to cheer them up as best he could. If they were happy, he reveled in that and they were all happy together. Even if it was just a quiet time together, like sharing a seat with his best friend and pseudo-sister Leanne, he was more than content to do so.

 

If there was an added bonus to it, though, like getting to improve his swordplay or learning how to ride his freshly obtained bird? That was even better. If he likened spending time with those he cared about to being given a piece of cake, then anything extra that helped him climb closer to his heroic goals of heroism was like getting another piece to go with it. Or perhaps it was more like one big piece of cake - a good piece, with frosting and sprinkles and all the other nice stuff. How could you say no to something like that?

 

Of course, that line of thinking put Chachanji heavily in the mood for sweets. Darndest thing. He broke eye contact with his mentor just long enough to fish a Yellow Drop out of one of his pouches and popped it into his mouth, filling it with a delightful flash of lemon flavor. It was no cake, to be sure, but it was still quite good regardless. Plus, he was going to be getting his figurative cake too now that Miss Roen was here.

 

He flashed his mentor a happy smile then, one that grew all the wider when Roen all but affirmed that the day's plans included something involving Chocobos. Already, it was starting to look like another happy "double-or-possibly-oversized-figurative-piece-of-cake" day, a term that was in dire need of shortening. Even better, with a cheerful glimmer in her eyes, the Free-Sworn had said it was going to be something fun. Chachanji loved fun!

 

And friends. And Chocobos. And cake. And Yellow Drops.

 

... Chachanji liked a lot of things, really.

 

I may or may not have padded this out a bit since the original post was much shorter, resulting in something decidedly more goofy. And possibly more Chachan. Which I suppose is good.

 

[Roen]

The goofy smile on Chachanji's face made Roen answer the boy with her own. As soon as he popped that candy in his mouth his eyes seemed to glaze over, and it was as though happy thoughts bloomed like a great big joyful flower on his face. Watching him relish in such simple joy was contagious.

 

"One of my favorite things to do when I learned how to ride was to go on long runs. Through the woods, up the mountain trails..." She leaned forward to give Goldwind a pat on the neck. "I think it lets you and your mount have a little fun together. And soon, he becomes your friend."

 

Roen's smile grew wistful. She remembered running away with on the back of her childhood mount, named Greywind for his dark grey hue, to join the battle at Carteneau so many cycles ago. Greywind had been brave and stalwart even in the face of frightening explosions and the clashing of weapons all around them. More so than she herself had been, as the paladin recalled.

 

"Avenger has to have as much courage as you do, and sometimes even more so if you falter." The paladin sat straighter in her seat, growing a bit somber. "They can be your best friend sometimes. And they need to be, if they are to help you charge into battle."

 

"Trust and friendship are not just born out of sharing an understanding and learning together." She blinked at her own words, as she silently reminded herself to practice her own lessons with those she held dear. "You need to have fun now and then." A smile slowly grew as Goldwind stomped once on the dirt with growing anticipation. "So! Today, I have planned a race for us! From here to the Sultantree. There is a trail that leads out near the road, and there are a few obstacles off to the sides, rocks and logs. I want you to jump over at least five of those on your way to the finish."

 

Goldwind let out an excited warble, craning his neck and flapping his wings. He could always sense when she was in the mood for a fast run; both the rider and the bird always found unabashed glee in trying to outrun the wind.

 

"Are you ready?" Roen beamed at Chachanji, her challenge punctuated by a high-pitched kweh from her bird.

[Gegenji]

Chachanji paid rapt attention to Roen, which stood in stark contrast to Avenger's frequent - and almost flighty - abrupt changes in what held his interest. A rustling leaf would have the young bird glance in that direction, a mole puttering its way through the low grasses would steal that focus away just as quickly. For every two or three things that caught his eye, though, Avenger would cast a glance towards both his rider and his rider's mentor to ascertain their well-being. And then, certain of the Lalafell's continued care, he would return to eying whatever caught his avian interest next.

 

"Avenger isn't my friend already?" the youngest Gegenji piped up when the Free-Sworn mentioned it, giving the bird in question a pat on his feathered neck and receiving bright-eyed look in return. The two of them shared a brief bonding moment, youth to youth, as Roen reminisced on Chocobos of the past. Both returned their gazes to her once she started speaking again however, albeit Avenger's eye soon started wandering again in relatively short order.

 

The Hyur seemed almost psychic as she continued her explanation on both what she meant and the task for the day, which neatly answered the Lalafell's question. It wasn't a matter of just being friends, it was about becoming the best of friends, like he was with Gran or Leanne. Chachan was at least 98.5% certain Gran would remain steadfastly by his side in a heroic battle, and he would certainly need to be just as confident in his mighty steed as well in such situations. Unless he rode Gran, of course, which a couple people had mentioned in passing; that would neatly solve the problem. It would certainly leave Avenger feeling left out, and Chachanji didn't want to leave his new feathered friend out of any impending heroism.

 

Thoughts on mount options and their opinions quickly melted away into the aether once Roen brought up the idea of a race, however. After all, it was hard to remain focused on such serious concepts as the proper steed to ride into battle when he was being offered the chance to run full tilt astride Avenger with no consequences right now. The number of required jumps sounded suspiciously like an assignment, but the excited Chachanji spent little time dwelling on that fact. Because, come on, it was a race - what was not to be excited about?

 

"Ah, a race!? Really really?" The lad's almost boundless energy seemed to flow into his mount, and Avenger started doing a little excited dance of his own. The shifting of foot to foot and the flapping of his tiny wings made it look like it was only the Lalafell's grip on the reins that was keeping the Chocobo from starting the race early. Although, with how much the boy was bouncing about in the saddle, it would be rather hard to believe that he had any hand in keeping the bird stationary of all things.

 

"I'm ready! So ready! The most ready!" Chachanji chimed, as if he wasn't expressing that clearly enough through his quite animated body language. His fervor was echoed by a trilling, excited cry from his little mount. In both word and deed, the little bird and his little rider were quite obviously ready and raring to go.

[Roen]

Roen chuckled at the boy’s excitement. Goldwind echoed the younger bird’s readiness with a wark of his own, stomping and scratching at the dirt ground. They were all causing quite the ruckus! Even Gagari and Hihiyaja, the two Lalafells that were on hand to tend to the Royal Plantations, looked up from their tasks, curious brows raised.

 

The paladin spun her mount around, lining up alongside Chachanji and Avenger. The two birds’ symphony of trills echoed across the warm Thanalan afternoon sky, and a thin cloud of dust rose around them as the chocobos bounced about in anticipation.

 

“Gagari!” Roen called over as the Lalafell farmer came up to the wooden fence. While the Dunefolk farmer usually had a tired air about her, the pending race seemed to perk her interest. Her yellow-orange eyes were curious. “Can you start us off?” Roen asked her.

 

Hihiyaja bounced up next to Gagari with a wide grin. “Oh! A race! Good luck Miss Deneith!”

 

Roen answered her with a delighted wink. She had come to know Gigari and Hihiyaja well; they were a kind and understanding pair, even if the hardship of cultivating the dry desert lands oft weighed upon their shoulders. It was good to see them smile.

 

Gagari climbed up to the top wooden rail, as if to make show of things, and came to a balanced perch on a wooden column. “Well, I am cheering for Chachanji!” she teased as she raised her hand. “Ready…”

 

A dramatic pause. “Set…”

 

Roen glanced to Chachanji, assessing his readiness. Goldwind’s top feathers popped straight up at attention, then flattened as the bird lowered his head. She could tell her mount was raring to go, and found herself grinning ear to ear.

 

The raised hand dropped. “GO!”

[Gegenji]

Chachanji followed his mentor's gaze over to the two Lalafell as they approached the fence and the one named Gagari stepped up to serve as race official. It always amazed him how those he had come to call friends and teachers always seemed to know so many people. Leanne was probably the most notable of this, seemingly able to identify almost everyone they came across - Koporo's older "brother" being the only real exception that stood out for him. He remained almost steadfastly oblivious to the not insignificant number of people he had met during his relatively short time spent in and around the walls of Ul'dah. Instead, he seemed happily content to wonder just how many people Miss Roen might know in comparison to his nice-hat-wearing best friend.

 

While his rider's mind was fully off in la-la land (or perhaps Lala land?), Avenger was paying much more attention to the matters at hand. Despite not knowing the exact content of the babbling going back and forth between the small group of unfeathered ones, he knew that there was going to be running in the near future. So, while Chachanji silently tried to guess how many people Miss Roen knew, his mount fluffed up with anticipation and pawed at the dusty ground. The shout from one of the newly approached smaller ones startled Avenger a bit, but still sent him off running alongside the much larger Goldwind. The sudden burst to motion also helped to forcibly jostle the young Lalafell from his myriad musings and back to the important matter of the race.

 

"Ah! Wh-what what?" he yelped, instinctively grabbing on the reins and pulling back to slow his bird down. Avenger complied, albeit with a confused wark, and reduced his initial mad dash to a sluggish trot. Chachanji instantly regretted the decision once he realized that the race had started while he had been daydreaming. "Oh! Hey, I wasn't ready!"

 

With a childish grunt, the Lalafell goaded his mount back into motion to try and close the sizeable gap that had already been created from his momentary distraction. Goldwind was larger and had longer strides, and thus had been able to cross quite the distance in just those few steps. Avenger, while a decent bit smaller, had the benefits of being young, spry, and possessing almost as much energy as its rider. With Chachanji's silent approval to go all out, the young Chocobo lowered his head to assume a faster, more streamlined form.

 

"H-hey!" Chachanji shouted again over the whipping wind buffeting his face as he drew back into what he assumed was earshot of the lady Hyur. "Y-you better jump over stuff too! It ain't fair if'n only I hafta do it!"

 

As if to emphasize that point, the Lalafell yanked Avenger's reins off to the side to aim his bird towards the first of his obstacles. His game plan? To do all five of his "busywork" jumps right away so they'd be over and done with. That way he could focus on just going fast all the way to the Sultantree! It was the perfect plan!

 

His first jump,  however, was merely a small rock that even his little Chocobo could easily step over without incident. Chachanji made a show of leaping grandly over it, though, as if it were some giant boulder instead of something he could probably fit in one of his belt pouches. Should Miss Roen question the validity of it, though, he was more than willing to state that it "totally counted." It was a rock after all, which had been on her short list of obstacles, and he had totally jumped over it as directed.

 

One jump down, four more to go! The youngest Gegenji guided his bird towards a more respectable obstacle next: a fallen log. And even with that more impressive threat coming up fast, Chachanji was already looking forward for the next one. His violet eyes alighted on the Dispatch Yard - surely there would be plenty of things to jump over there!

[Roen]

Roen did not even have to urge Goldwind; at the word GO, her mount darted forward, strides quickly lengthening to a full sprint. The paladin instinctively leaned forward as the bird began to pick up speed.

 

“I wasn’t ready!”

 

She glanced back to see that Chachanji had fallen behind. Avenger wore a quizzical look, as if confused as to why he was slowing down. While Roen eased just slightly in her seat, she did not slow down her mount either; she had watched them long enough to know that the little bird and rider had the capacity for a quick burst of speed to catch up.

 

And despite the fact that this race was supposed to be fun, it was still a lesson in riding after all!

 

The paladin glanced back again to watch in delight as Chachanji made his first jump. She couldn’t quite see what he was jumping over, was there a rock there…? But the form was good, and he had made a grand show of it too. Roen chuckled and veered Goldwind towards the Dispatch Yard. Once the two raised platforms came into view, she could see Goldwind’s feather prickle upwards just slightly...and she could not help but share in her bird's mischievous impulse.

 

Roen would never consider herself prone to impishness. She did not like the thought of causing other people alarm nor did she derive enjoyment from seeing people fumble or falter. But there were moments in her childhood -- and usually it was when she was riding or doing "something non-girly," much to her mother's chagrin. An idea would spark in her mind, and the appeal of it grew like wildfire, and she was forced to commit to it lest it was lost to disappointment.

 

This was one of those moments. Roen veered Goldwind onto the railway track, following its course toward the two platforms that flanked it at the station.

 

The first obstacle was a 'No Entry' sign that stood as firm warning to any who approached near. Both Goldwind and Roen gave it no thought and gleefully leaped over it. Then she turned her bird sharply, the chocobo racing up the steps of the platform. Roen had the merest moment to give a rueful (and perhaps apologetic) grin to the two guards there -- both who could only stare at her with widened eyes. Goldwind's feet skidded against stone as Roen turned her bird sharply left again, only a few fulms away from the two Stone Torches, urging the bird for a long airy jump over two barrels and a vase that stood on the edge.

 

They landed on the dirt beyond leaving a cloud of dust in their wake, and Goldwind let out a hoot of pleasure as he continued to race down the road. Roen half wondered if Chachanji would take a similar course; there was an instant pang of doubt that she chose the course that she did. A risky course was not something she should have set as an example for her young pupil. Roen knew her childhood teachers would have looked askance and scowled. She was a rather restless student back then, full of daydreams -- a world of grand adventures set before her as challenges to be bested.

 

Now that the tables were turned, Roen could not help but feel slightly guilty at her misadventures as a child.

 

With that thought in mind, she glanced over her shoulder to see how the Lalafell and Avenger were faring.

[Gegenji]

It seemed like Ms. Roen had made similar plans to Chachanji's, and he watched as she too peeled off towards the Dispatch Yard ahead of him. The young Lalafell even got to see her first obstacle to jump - a much more respectable, and a bit more poetically poignant, "No Entry" sign. Having jumped over both a very small rock and a log - two of the five required obstacles - the youngest Gegenji seemed ready and willing to try for the sign as his third. As he rapidly drew closer, however, he noted it was a bit higher up than the log and definitely much higher up than the rock.

 

He reasoned, however, that if his teacher had managed to jump it, then so could he! With that sort of determined mindset at the forefront, Chachanji goaded his mount into picking up a little bit of extra speed to ensure a much more powerful jump. And jump Avenger did, albeit clipping the sign a bit with his talons considering he only barely cleared it. While not race-ending, the mid-air trip managed to send the Chocobo stumbling a bit as he landed, jostling his rider quite a bit in his saddle. They lost a bit of momentum as well as they tried to keep from sprawling over, but the two managed to recover awkwardly enough.

 

Avenger got little time to breathe, however, as he was immediately ushered after Roen and Goldwing, both of whom had only gained an even greater lead following that botched landing. They were still well enough in sight at least, and Chachanji made to follow their path up the stairs and hopefully close the gap. The barrels were immediately right out as jumping targets - the fact somehow managing to override Chachan's "I can do it if you can" mindset - but the vase was squat enough that the Lalafell was willing to risk it. His caution was well-rewarded, considering the young Chocobo's feet didn't get up high enough to have cleared the barrels. Had Chachanji been too ambitious, both he and his mount would've ended up face-first in the dirt.

 

Since he had deigned not to, however, Avenger landed neatly enough with his own, smaller cloud of dust kicking up to join the first. Since Goldwind's had not settled quite yet, it elicited a cough from both mount and rider as they erupted from the dusty haze and down the path after Ms. Roen. They certainly had a lot of ground to make up, but at least they only had to jump over one more obstacle!

 

The departure of both racers was watched by the two guards, who moved to the end of the platform to observe the retreating shapes of both birds and riders. One of them - a rather stout-looking Roegadyn by the name of Curled Fist, or "Curly" to his friends - looked down at his partner. Quite far down, indeed, since the other guard was a Lalafell. A helmet-less Lalafell sporting a bowl cut that most likely would've defied any attempts to contain it.

 

"Sh-should we go after them, Mo?" he asked, his gravelly voice tinged with a nervousness that belied his newness to the position.

 

"With what, boulder-brains?" Mostuji Thristuji responded irately, slapping the recruit's shin with the back of his armored hand. "Our feet?"

 

"Well, I just thought-"

 

"Well there's yer problem!" Mo interjected sharply. "Yer here to guard, not think! Thinkin's my job! And I'm thinkin' we didn't see nothing, you get me?"

 

"O-oh, uh, sure thing, Mo."

 

It was about that time that their third, a lanky Midlander named Larson, returned with their lunches. With the concept of a filling meal to break up an otherwise dull posting - minus the two Chocobo riders they totally didn't see - all other thoughts fell quickly to the wayside. After all, Curly was happy to note, Larson had managed to bag them some pretzels.

 

I'm the dork, it's me. :blush:

 

[Roen]

Roen had to half-turn in her seat to watch Chachanji jump over the fence--and then the vase--the little chocobo and his rider breaking through the cloud of dust after their landing.

 

The paladin grinned wide with pride; the Lalafell youth had learned so fast! Avenger’s outstretched neck showed the little bird's eager enthusiasm to keep up with Goldwind--if not surpass him entirely. Its small feet dug in the dirt with startling quickness, tossing rocks in its wake as it began to gain more speed.

 

She turned her attention back to the road ahead, the impressive looming form of the Sultantree rising in the distance. Giant cords of bark and root twisted around each other, digging into the dirt like the hand of a giant gripping the earth. Its countless branches opened up into the sky, leaves and boughs nearly eclipsing the blue canvas above, the Sultantree seeming to continue to grow taller as she approached.

 

Roen suddenly recalled that she still had three more obstacles to jump over. Don't get distracted! She glanced about but found boulders and fences unfortunately lacking. She swerved off the beaten path towards the Sultantree, eyes scanning the area for anything she might use, but only saw a giant tortoise feeding on a patch of grass and a few snapping shrews and hornets.

 

One corner of the paladin’s lips tugged toward a daring grin as she leaned forward, pulling on the reins to steer her chocobo toward the tortoise. Goldwind gave a low questioning wark at the new obstacle, but complied and veered sharply, talons kicking up more gravel.

 

Luckily, the tortoise did not seem to notice (or care) that a chocobo and Hyur were racing toward it at an alarming speed. If it could think, it likely would have believed no one would be foolish enough to charge a giant tortoise whilst riding a chocobo, and so it kept grazing on the flowers, not bothering to move. Only when the rider and the bird were three fulms from its face did it deign to peel an eye at the two; its maw only paused briefly in its idle chewing as the golden-feathered bird launched itself into the air, its extended legs arching over the terrapin’s scaled head.

 

The chewing commenced as the paladin and chocobo continued to race away.

 

Roen laughed out loud, sparing a glance back at the immobile tortoise. She leaned to the right, to lead Goldwind toward the last two jumps: a snapping shew and a huge hornet buzzing low to the ground. But her hope that these were going to be a quick detour at best was dashed when the two creatures she had marked to leap over clearly saw her approach and started to dart away--as any normal creature would.

 

The paladin grimaced as she found herself giving chase to the two creatures to just try and jump over them. The shew was easy enough to catch, but the hornet was quick to zig-zag and flit away. It was only after she chased it around a tree, cutting off its flight path with a sharp left that she got lucky and leaped over it. Goldwind let out a quick snort of triumph, as if happy to say that nothing was going to outrun him.

 

Nothing except perhaps Avenger and Chachanji.

 

By the time she had cleared the last jump, the youth and his bird had gained greater strides toward the Sultantree, passing them. Roen shook her head at her poor choice of targets, but still…it was fun!

 

“Hyah!” She flicked the reins, taking Goldwind into a full sprint toward the younger riders and the Sultantree.

[Gegenji]

There was an immense sense of glee and pride in the little Lalafell as he finally managed to catch up to, and overtake, his riding instructor. It was only tempered by a slight awe at having watched Goldwind approach and subsequently leap over an absolutely massive tortoise. And they didn't even clip the shell or anything! It was definitely not something Chachanji and the tiny Avenger could pull off, that was for sure!

 

It certainly made him want to have his last jump to be something impressive, though. Everything beforehand had been pretty mundane: a rock, a log, a sign, and a vase. Meanwhile, Roen was going after things like giant turtles and bees. He briefly thought of imitating her again, but the last incident he had with the over-sized insects in the area quickly turned him off that idea. He could probably fight them off now that he had undergone as much training as he had with Ser Warren, but he didn't relish the idea of trying to do it from atop a fleeing Chocobo.

 

In his mind's eye, he could see Avenger and himself thundering away from the Sultantree, the little Lalafell swinging his blade wildly at a literal cloud of irate bees that hounded their every step. With the buzzing and the flailing of stingers and those multifaceted eyes, each section of them filled with hate and malice. It sent a shuddering chill down the youngest Gegenji's spine and he was quick to shake his head sharply in a desperate attempt to dismiss such thoughts. He had to focus on that last jump!

 

As with his mentor, his worried gaze returned little in the ways of options as the Sultantree loomed ever-larger in front of him. The Spineless Basin was more or less a straight, featureless shot to the mound of land upon which the quite sizable plant made its home. Other than the wandering beasts he was already rather against trying to jump, there was only the sparse trees that sprouted up here and there as potential obstacles. And if Chachanji couldn't clear a tortoise, he certainly couldn't clear a fully-grown tree. Their roots plunged into the earth quickly in their desperate thirst for water as well, so trying to jump one of those was also out of the question.

 

Plus, something like that wouldn't be nearly cool enough for his last jump.

 

The young Lalafell had to figure out something quick, though. Even if he made it to the Sultantree first, which he seemed on the fast track to doing at the withering pace Avenger was setting, he's still lose if he didn't get all five of his jumps done! Just thinking that he'd fail because of some dumb extra rules set Chachanji to pouting and grumbling from his mounted perch - despite his current lead only existing due to Roen following those selfsame rules. He kept glancing about for that final obstacle, but there was a heavy sulk evident in his shoulders and overall posture.

 

C'mon, stupid nonexistant awesome fifth jump, where were you!?