Father's Gifts

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Father's Gifts


Erlont sighed and rubbed his head, messing up his hair even more as he turned his gaze north to the distant towers of Ishgard which he couldn't see. Forests and granite outcrops and great distance separated him from that lofty place and yet he gazed longingly towards it. Towards Avianne. 

He was lying on the low roof of one of the many storage sheds connected to the courtyard at the front of the stable grounds. A place he enjoyed as it was out of sight enough that he usually wasn't bothered but also easy enough to reach with his tall frame. He would be of age soon and the worry that he felt over his future was weighing upon him heavily causing restless nights. Since his performance with House Vorard his responsibilities had increased at Master Ravon's side and he was beginning to understand what it may look like one day to take over the stables should he prove worthy. 

It was a great responsibility but it also came with a status that he hadn't expected. Though he would never be a noble man, and he would likely never become a sanctified knight, he could at least be a man of station. In the back of his mind he always knew that Master Ravon enjoyed the respect and hospitality of many of the more important influences of Ishgard, but he had never applied that same information to himself. 

Since working with House Vorard he had gone to many other notable merchants and lower houses to make similar calls on chocobo for Master Ravon and each treated him with a respect he wasn't anticipating. Some were, of course, as hostile or indifferent of him as he had anticipated but that was not always the case. It gave him hope. A thin feeble hope that perhaps he could be part of Avianne's life more permanently. Perhaps.

He frowned as he looked up at the clear sky.

"Fret naught, boy." Erlont jumped and snapped his head around to the sound of Master Ravon's voice. The stablemaster was dressed in a simple smoking jacket as he approached Erlont from across the courtyard. 

The young elezen shook his head and turned his gaze back to the red moon. "There's much to fret over."

"Perhaps." The man's voice was low as if he did not wish to disturb the quiet of the night. The wind brushed through the distant trees, carrying the late early spring into summer, and the sounds of insects and owls were all that could be heard. It gave him a clear view of the distant horizons.

"Come down, and sit." Master Ravon moved back to the center of the courtyard where a raised stone planter was usually cultivated with lush flowers for the summer but at present stood empty waiting for the temperatures to rise. He sat down on the wooden bench and when Erlont approached, hands in pockets, he continued, "There is naught you can do about it so why fret?"

Erlont did not respond, only sat in silence as he eyed the velvet night.

For a while, the pair sat in the quiet. Erlont knew that his mentor would speak in his own time and there was no purpose in attempting to rush the man. Besides, there was a respect that Erlont gave unto him that no other could command. So, together, they watched the pale moon make her way across the sky in an inexorable but slow manner all the while Her Hound remained steady and consistent. 

When Master Ravon finished his first pipe and had to stop to refill it he sighed deeply. "You're to be a man soon, though I would have saved this for that time, I fear you'll become one before I realize it."

A cloud of familiar smoke washed over the pair as the elder drew on the stem of his worn pipe. Erlont looked at him expectantly, his brow pulling down with worry and confusion. 

Master Ravon looked up at the pale moon. "I've taught you many lessons since you were a pup at my boots. I know I am no replacement for your father but I think I've earned the right to pass on a few more lessons before such a time as you're too set in your own ways to hear them."

Erlont remained silent, frowning. This was not the behavior of the man he respected. Curt and rough were what he was used to, and Erlont liked that much more than this. This put him off balance. 

"Have I ever told you about my wife?" Erlont didn't need to respond. Master Ravon had been without a wife since he had come under his care and never once had he mentioned having one before this night. "Noirelle was her name. We too were childhood companions, not unlike you and Lady Avianne."

Erlont felt his face go hot and he started to shake his head and opened his mouth but the old master just chuckled, "Peace, boy. I'm not a dullard, and I doubt anyone else knows save for a few. She may not even because she doesn't know you when she's not around, eh?" 

Erlont snapped his mouth shut and shifted uncomfortably but Master Ravon just continued. "Ahh, she was a jewel among the stars she was. A common girl with such a beautiful soul that she could brighten a room just by being there. She had hair the color of spun silver and her eyes held in them the purest of blue. I loved her from the first. Yet it was many years before I acted upon it knowing that I was not yet ready to make the promises that needed to be made. So I held my tongue and we continued our friendship such as it was. In the end, the day I became a sanctified knight, I made those promises. Promises that I kept for seven years.

"But there is only so much that a knight can do against the ravages of the body. Even the chirugeons could not assist as something began to eat away at her, little by little. As if the aether that flowed through her simply leached away. She became tired and frayed. She began to wither before my eyes and there was naught I could do. Yet even in her suffering, she remained steadfast. She blessed the gods each morning and each day she polished my armor and tended to the house though I told her not to. She should have been in the gardens letting the sun warm her skin."

Erlont felt a pit grow in his stomach at the idea of being forced to watch helplessly as someone he loved being destroyed from within. It made him sick to his stomach but Master Ravon continued, oblivious to the discomfort of his charge, "She didn't last long, a year perhaps. In that year she taught me much. Reminding me where to put things about the house, how to clean blood from my surcoat, and what herbs were in my favored tea. She wanted to make the transition easier. To make sure I didn't fall apart without her. She should have known it was futile. We had no children of our own for me to care for, though she had always wanted them. We tried but we were not blessed with such life. Without her I was but a lonely knight with no more star to follow save my duty which surly as the sun does rise I would have thrown myself into until I gladly gave my life upon the steps of Ishgard. 

"But she was clever and knew my spirit was too tightly bound to hers to go on after she was taken. So she bid me promise to adopt those who had no parents of their own. Alas, I am ashamed to say that when she did leave I spent far too much time with my original plan. I tried and failed to die in so many ways and yet the gods did not grant me the comfort I sought. I cursed their names and wondered why they had taken her; if it was a test I was destined to fail. 

"Once a man makes the promise of love there is no breaking it. There's no bending it. If he does let the earth rise and swallow him for he is not a man any longer but a worm no better than the piss on his boots." Master Ravon spoke with more venem than Erlont had ever heard and his eyes burned with fury. Yet as he continued speaking the look eased into wistful longing once more. "Once a man promises himself to another in such a way his only duty then is to protect and uplift his spouse. Tis a sacred covenant to walk beside one another and work together where one soul will not suffice. It seemed far more likely that Maniphia would not let me pass because I had failed to uphold those promises to her and thus was my punishment. Bah, she would give me a lashing of the tongue to hear my idiocy." 

They lapsed into several moments of silence. Erlont remained still and quiet, hoping not to break his mentor's concentration. At length, the elder elezen pulled his eyes from the moon and looked Erlont in the eye. "I've taught you to be brave in your honesty, honorable in your deeds, and I have taught you how to think clearly. Tools that every knight, every man, needs to master lest he become corrupted and weak. What I have not taught you is how to love. It is the hardest of all lessons to teach because of its nature. Fear is overcome by purity of action, Dishonor by consistency to the truth of your soul, and dimwittedness through humble questioning and the seeking of understanding. But love is a thing unto its own. It's all-consuming and has no cure.

"I know that you love the Lady Avianne. I know how she moves your heart whenever you see her step from that carriage. You have the self-same expression I wore whenever I looked upon my Noirelle."

Erlont looked away to the cobblestones. "What am I supposed to do? She's a nobleman's daughter."

"Tis true. And she has grown into a beautiful one at that. Kind, graceful, sweet as honey, and smart. She'll make a fine match to a young lord and she'll serve her duty to her House with poise and skill. Such is her world."

Erlont felt like a knife had been plunged into his chest. Hearing his thoughts out loud was more painful than he could have imagined. "What am I supposed to do? I cannot love another. She's become the earth and I the sun. I rise each day in the hopes that I may provide her something of myself."

Master Ravon let out a long stream of smoke that was carried by the winds. "Do you think you can bear it if she were to marry another man? To live in silence as she slipped through your fingers never to return as your friend let alone anything more?"

Erlont ground his teeth and blew a sharp sigh through his nose in answer. 

"Then you must choose. Either you will fight for her and attempt to make Lord Vorard see that the position of Master Chocobo Keep is not one to be dismissed. Or you will suffer in silence until she is matched with someone of his approval and then you will lash out in your recklessness and hurt and embarrass not only yourself but her, thus ruining every memory she ever had of you." The man put a hand on Erlont's shoulder and roughly squeezed, "The only other option is to learn what I could not. To embrace the knowledge that your time is limited and to make the most of it instead of fretting and worrying. That way when the time comes and she must leave, you can honestly say that you did all you could in that time. Meniphia teaches us of many types of love and sometimes one love must be sacrificed in service to another."

Master Ravon pulled his hand away and then tucked it into a pocket. When he held it out to Erlont his chronometer was resting in it. "Here. A man should have a proper timepiece. It was my father's so see that you don't bash it about, eh?"

Erlont took it, awed. It was heavy and warm to the touch. He didn't need the faint light to know the details of the piece. A brass case that fit into his palm easily, etched with intricate inlays lined with black enamel of flowers, vines, and leaves.  In the center of the cover was a raised image of the Black-Snow Paddock's symbol. A chocobo standing in profile while using a wing to hold a snapping flag attached to a long lance. Inside the crystal was polished to reflect the viewer and the face of the clock was made from the polished scale of a green dragon, set with white enamel for the numbers and priceless diamonds to decorate it like stars. He had spent half of his life looking at the chronometer. It was as much a part of his mentor as his voice or eyes.

The inside of the cover had been engraved by a skilled artisan with the initials of all of its previous bearers. Men of the Ravon family line that reached back five generations. And the sixth set belonged to Erlont.

E.K.

Feeling a hard lump in his throat Erlont didn't say anything but Master Ravon made up for that. "Now it's time we both were abed. Tomorrow we'll be reinforcing the outer pasture fences on the south lawns. The spring rains nearly took the whole line along the creek bed."

With that the man stood and made his way back into the stables, leaving Erlont to ponder his most recent lesson. 

Gifts: AI-Generated
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