The Fire Still Burns

JP between Wim and Gonyaul:

Gonyaul nodded in understanding of Wim’s reasoning. The comment triggered in him a response he had been taught over and over again, “if you numb feelings you don’t want, it also numb feelings you do want.” He said it not in particular to Wim, but more to the air. It was like he was plucking a truth from the ether.

Gonyaul observed the slight discomfort in Wim’s face and was happy to oblige changing the topic. He was not as eloquent in the common tongue, so he would try his best. “I here to help reduce suffering and evil.” He paused to reflect on what he just said, making sure it was what he meant.

He figured that wasn’t enough detail to satisfy his curiosity so he continued, “I helping the farmers grow food for Osti…arium.”

Wim smiled a questioning smile. Reducing suffering and evil. That was incredibly abstract in Wim’s thinking. Well, there was also the problem of Wim being suffering and evil, in his own thinking. But there was no need to bring that out,

“What do you like to grow?” He asked Gonyaul.

It was abstract. The two men came from very different worlds and that had shaped them very differently as well. Gonyaul was quite intrigued by Wim. The nobleman had ambitions, variety of talents, prospects, resources, resourcefulness, experiences and connections just for starters. Gonyaul by contrast, didn’t have any concrete aspirations; just abstract ones. He lived in the moment, was content no matter where or what he was doing, cared little for materialism, had practically no network, and his upbringing had only positively influenced him.

He thought for a second while chewing another mouthful of deer steak. He hadn’t really made a hierarchy of what he liked to grow the most before. He just liked the whole process of growing. Life was the best thing to grow. But then the idea struck him, “shroom mush.” He realized he said it in reverse. “Mushrooms.”

He took another bite, pleased with his response. He could picture in his mind all the intricacies of the mushrooms below and above the surface. The uniqueness of the different species he had experience with and the understanding that there were so many more kinds he had never seen were very interesting. Gonyaul decided to try and turn the conversation back on Wim. Perhaps a favorites question too? “Why do you like to brew skunk?”

Wim laughed with a full belly laugh that made birds take flight.

“We do not brew skunks, but it is a ironic name that sticks with you,” he said still chuckling.

He pulled out the sketch he had with the skunk wearing a top hat and in fancy clothes standing on two feet.
“It is meant to be funny!” He added.

Wim flipped the steak. And turned the strip of meet he wanted to make into jerky.

Gonyaul couldn’t help but chuckle alongside the contagious laughter. At the same time he realized he had said something silly and now knew better after Wim’s clarification. He wasn’t embarrassed though at all from his mixup.

Gonyaul craned his neck to get a better view of the picture. He instantly smiled and agreed, “it is funny”. The drawing inspired wonderment. He smirked over the idea of animals wearing clothes and behaving like humans.

Wim was funny and creative too. This fellow must have quite the sphere of influence and plethora of friends Gonyaul thought. “What do you think of Ostiarium?” Perhaps he could get a good depiction of an insiders view, since he himself kept to the periphery.

Wim thought about that question for a moment. This after all was the real question.

“Ostiarium is an interesting place but over its head. It is trying to make itself into a proper city, but has a long way to go. The citizens believe that the Duke, Sir Zane, and the Arbiter will be able to protect them. So they build walls to keep the masses busy,” he pulls the pan off the fire and cuts into the meat.

“They are not prepared if the enemy comes with magic. My people fight magic with some artifacts but the biggest tactic is to throw more people at it than they can defend against. If war comes, the enemy could camp around the walls and starve us or poison our water. Most our fresh water come from outside the walls. We have no where to flee to as the water gives us no place to retreat as we have no ships. Still the place has potential if we can make friends with the Native People,” he said.

Gonyaul nodded in understanding to Wim’s description. The atmosphere took a sudden turn from jovial to serious. Everything the nobleman said was true and obvious to anyone who was aware of how conquering and conquest takes place.

Gonyaul was not of these people and he sympathized with both sides of the pending struggle. These settlers from Helias, of which Gonyaul was currently with, were not invited to Arcadia. The natives didn’t ask for them to take root, have a military presence, spread a religious system that conflicts with their own, or strip their lands of resources for their own economic gains.

At the same time though Gonyaul was not against the settlement either; obviously since he decided to help them. But his motivation was for the lives of the people there not for any grand imperialism, evangelism or power. And he felt just as strongly for the cares and concerns of the natives.

This was the first time in a while he had returned to thinking on this grave matter. To be honest, he didn’t currently feel like he was on either side. He took the last bite of the steak he had before responding, “Ants know hard times are coming and they prepare.”

Gonyaul thought his advice was sound. He hoped all parties involved could learn to synergistically live in harmony. Though history didn’t really seem to back up that final outcome, he still held onto hope. “Make friends not enemies is a good idea.” He gestured with his hands to the camp, the food and the conversation. “Good start.” He smiled, as if he had the answer, “know them, love them, help them.” Yes, it was a very idealistic notion.