08-11-2021, 08:29 AM
(This post was last modified: 08-11-2021, 09:06 AM by The Alpha Bat.)
And some time had passed...
An atypical priestess had eventually felt the need to put thought to paper.
The scrap of paper:
I do not remember how long it has been. Weeks? Months? It does not matter I suppose. Yet, my mind keeps wandering back to that day at the Godly Stage. To the needless deaths. To my own actions.
Even with the Church's aid not being requested, I could not help but find myself in Alstalsia standing among the adventurers. Among them but not one of them. Had I a morbid sense of humor, I would surely be laughing still. To visit the Godly Stage, a near life-long dream I could only achieve by posing as an adventurer. Yet again.
With the medical tents set up and waiting, I still found more cause to charge up the mountain with the others than to stay behind and tend to the wounded. And at the top, what did I do? Next to nothing.
I could not bring myself to face Cornelius Schlager directly. I do not know why. Was it fear? The sense of hopelessness from facing an enemy I knew I would never be allowed to spare? How many lives were lost because I was unable to act?
Days later, where was I? I was behind my desk doing the paperwork no one else wanted to do, surrounded by nurses who would rather stand around gossiping than perform their one job, prescribing salve to a stupid child who decided to try swallowing a fireball.
I am not a healer. I was never blessed with Her healing gifts. Complex surgeries are beyond me. I cannot care for a patient on an emotional level, they are simply another person with a problem that I am tasked with correcting.
My oath to myself will never be fulfilled if I continue to work in half measures. I cannot persist in pretending to be something I am not.
I will keep this note on my person as a reminder of this revelation. This revelation realized through many lives lost and an act of great sacrilege by one foolish man.
An atypical priestess had eventually felt the need to put thought to paper.
The scrap of paper:
I do not remember how long it has been. Weeks? Months? It does not matter I suppose. Yet, my mind keeps wandering back to that day at the Godly Stage. To the needless deaths. To my own actions.
Even with the Church's aid not being requested, I could not help but find myself in Alstalsia standing among the adventurers. Among them but not one of them. Had I a morbid sense of humor, I would surely be laughing still. To visit the Godly Stage, a near life-long dream I could only achieve by posing as an adventurer. Yet again.
With the medical tents set up and waiting, I still found more cause to charge up the mountain with the others than to stay behind and tend to the wounded. And at the top, what did I do? Next to nothing.
I could not bring myself to face Cornelius Schlager directly. I do not know why. Was it fear? The sense of hopelessness from facing an enemy I knew I would never be allowed to spare? How many lives were lost because I was unable to act?
Days later, where was I? I was behind my desk doing the paperwork no one else wanted to do, surrounded by nurses who would rather stand around gossiping than perform their one job, prescribing salve to a stupid child who decided to try swallowing a fireball.
I am not a healer. I was never blessed with Her healing gifts. Complex surgeries are beyond me. I cannot care for a patient on an emotional level, they are simply another person with a problem that I am tasked with correcting.
My oath to myself will never be fulfilled if I continue to work in half measures. I cannot persist in pretending to be something I am not.
I will keep this note on my person as a reminder of this revelation. This revelation realized through many lives lost and an act of great sacrilege by one foolish man.
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