23 October 2022
Something I strongly believe is that our struggles, our challenges, our painful moments have the power to make us more empathetic. It doesn’t always happen; it’s a choice to recognize someone else’s pain. And no matter how similar the situations may seem on the surface, there’s always nuances that keep us from knowing exactly how someone feels. But we can get close, and there is beauty in that, and I think that’s one way we can trade beauty for ashes.
As I mentioned before, I’ve done away with the “trial” bit; Aislin is in a sort of probationary period with the trial, where they’re trying to figure out what to do with her, and she’s trying to figure out how long she’s going to stay before she bails. Similar to the last one, though she decides to stick around long enough to fix this garden, which is now just a normal garden their goddess mandated they keep, even though none of the priests or priestesses are willing to risk getting their clothes dirty to keep it maintained.
She got to work. The two acolytes, who were named Owen and Cordelia, followed her instructions when asked, but between their obvious reluctance to get their hands dirty and their unfamiliarity with even basic gardening practices, Aislin was inclined to handle things herself.
She weeded and trimmed, planted and fertilized, over the next several days. She didn’t care about the dirt on the simple dresses she was provided or the sweat that beaded on her forehead. She cleaned and groomed herself, of course, but took little care beyond that.
One day, in the evening after Aislin had washed up, she entered the main hall and found an older woman, who appeared to be overwhelmed with the grandiose nature of the main hall. With a gentle smile, Aislin approached the older woman. “Good evening. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Oh, um, no, that’s alright.” She looked up at Aislin and relaxed a bit. “I just wanted to think for a moment.”
Aislin studied the woman. “If you prefer, we also have a small garden over this way. It might be easier to think there.”
The old woman visibly brightened. “Oh, that would be lovely!”
Aislin walked the old woman over to the garden, along with Cordelia, who was her assistant on-shift at the moment. Once the old woman was seated, she admired the garden and relaxed. “Thank you, dearie.”
“Of course.” The two sat in silence for several long minutes, while Cordelia shuffled around awkwardly off to the side.
Eventually, the old woman began to speak. “This place is quite special, isn’t it? Not that the main hall is bad, but it is hard to relax there.”
“Between you and me,” Aislin whispered, “I do think it’s a bit too much.”
The old woman chuckled, and Cordelia frowned but didn’t say anything. Another moment passed, and the old woman said, “I’ve been a little lost. My Cedric passed away just recently, and it’s been so hard.”
Aislin could relate. “Did he go peacefully, at least?”
“Oh, yes.” The old woman nodded. “But… he’s been by my side so long, and now it just feels… empty.”