This post encompasses an A-rank mission containing the following storyboard elements:
- Take the punishment your teacher gives you (3)
- Begin to realize your true desire (4)
Hawke’s head was pounding from the arduous trip he had been forced to endure. It had been long, uncomfortable and wet, but that was nothing compared to the earfuls – plural – that Kreia had treated him to for its entire duration. Whether by land or by sea her disapproving stares did not change, nor did the holier-than-thou tone of her voice. She was a guilt machine on wrinkled legs, equipped with all the Greatest Hits of the much-acclaimed “didn’t I tell you?” wave. Her message stayed consistent though, Hawke had to give her that. She waved off the retreat itself like an afterthought, but was cantankerous, to put it mildly, that Garrett had been so brain-meltingly stupid so as to put himself in that situation in the first place. “Then you have learned nothing,” she would say to his every counterargument, which pissed him off doubly since he was under no obligation to argue with her in the first place.
Ever the patron saint of patient men, Hawke had tried his very best to be Zen about the whole thing, but the old woman’s words had a way of festering. Sometimes they would surface, unbidden, to stalk his waking thoughts as they came to do his dreams. She would ask seemingly innocuous questions, well-knowing that he knew she was testing him, putting every gesture under a microscope and dissecting his every word. From the smokebomb in Tazuma to Khulna and now in Shaohai the woman had been on his case like a fly on fresh manure. It was altogether excruciating, made even worse by the fact that he could not kill her. Several nights had found Hawke standing over Kreia’s sleeping form trying to force his hands into a stranglehold to no avail. He could swear he would see the corner of her mouth curl upwards whenever he slinked defeated back to his bedroll on those nights.
All these things in tandem contributed to what Hawke had mentally dubbed his ‘eternal hangover’ and just like its less perpetual counterpart a little hair of the dog was an excellent remedy for its symptoms. To that effect he had led them to a small cluster of broken barracks that he recognized from his fight with Kinrah and had found blessed purchase in the form of an untouched cache of hard liquor. A few gulps of that had seen him in much better spirits to take on the day. It had the opposite effect on Kreia, which was surprising since she did not drink any. Still, the rhythmic thumping inside his skull refused to quiet down.
“And what do you hope to achieve with this?” came another unwelcome question from Kreia as the blind woman eyed the now half-empty bottle in his hand.
“Getting pissed,” Hawke belched, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Kreia’s glower seemed to intensify in response.
“I cannot make you see if you will not listen,” she said disapprovingly. “Are you powerless that your strength is held I check by your doubts?” Those words bit deeper than he would have liked and his emotional response only exposed that to Kreia.
“How was I to know? I nearly got them to give up a name.”
Kreia scoffed at that. She actually scoffed.
“You knew from the moment you felt their presence that they were here for you.” She stepped into his personal space and looked him up and down with a frown. “You had every chance to see them, to listen to your instincts, but you did not. Why?” The question was delivered stonily and it had the intended effect on Hawke who mulled it over for a while.
“Because I thought they’d piss of in the end,” he finally admitted, taking another swig of liquid courage. “But the pale beanpole just saw a problem to nip in the bud, so legging it seemed wise.”
“Why?” She repeated and Hawke instinctually understood her implication.
“Because losing could set me back a lifetime, yeah?” Hawke heard the whining undertone in his own voice and hated it. “Those two wankers weren’t pushovers, yeah? A scrap would’ve been long, with an un-fucking-certain outcome. All for what?”
“Nothing,” Kreia finished for him. “Power does not build without struggle, but not all struggles are equal. You must be prepared to do what is necessary without deferring to your ideals and your doubts. These men are enemies by circumstance and they will not hesitate to strike again if you continue down this path.”
“You think we’re going to Zhaohua on holiday, yeah?” Hawke asked, clearly irritated. “Someone has invested a lot of money in getting rid of me. Getting to them first is my two-bird stone.” He shot Kreia a wolfish grin and ignored the knowing look she returned.
“I am but a mirror whose only purpose is to show you what your own eyes cannot yet see,” Kreia informed him with what Hawke suspected was mock respect, but her voice never wavered. “To do so you must listen to what I know you already hear: the constant whispers of wants, desires, lies told to oneself to stave off the darkness around us.”
“Why?” Hawke took some small pleasure in asking, but Kreia did not seem affected.
“To realize what it is you truly desire,” was her infuriatingly simple and dry answer. “Think more upon this. The answer will come to you, or it will not.”
And Hawke did.
- Leaving for LM 024