March 8, 775
Entry 3;
It has been a few days, now, since the incident which has almost shattered my foundation in my faith. Everything that I thought I knew about the church, everything I thought I understood and cherished about it, everything I stood for and believed in - all of it, shattered, in a single night.
At home, Ezra taught us that the blade was the last option in every fight. That you should understand your enemy, try to get them to join with you and weaken both the Legion and strengthen the Church. Here, however, they simply ask once and then draw blade. There is no attempt to understand the enemy. There is no attempt to see what they might know, or learn what you can before attempting to slay it. It is blind, it is arrogant.
At home, Ezra taught us that compassion and love overcame everything else. That we should stand between all the meek, all the innocent, and the Legions of the Night. That the people, no matter who they are, who they worshiped, must be defended by the Faithful - and through that defense, that they would learn more of what it means to truly worship Ezra. But here, the Church protects only itself.
The Templars, who I once saw as the noble, green-clad knights that sought out the Legion and fought it at its doorstep - the men and women who, through their steel, through their sacrifice of their daily lives and everything else they could give, made a difference in this world. But the Templars I found when I joined the Order did little but guard the Anchorites and stare at Raduta, as if their mere presence could change the evils that lurked within. There was no action that I saw.
The Demon came to us at the Outskirts. Like the others, I drew my blade, and bid it to leave; and when it said it would take one of us to answer questions, I watched it depart. For a moment, I stared at the crowd. I stared and wondered who would answer its call, who would learn what it could. The Templar Commander, perhaps? One of the Outlanders?
No one. No one went with the beast. And so, not heeding the danger, I went forward. I ignored the words being thrown at me. I ignored their cowardly treatise; for I knew that if I died, it would be doing Ezra’s work. This is what she would have wanted me to do.
To understand the enemy, to convert it, you must speak with it. To defeat it, you must know where it lays. You must understand its plan. I could learn none of that if I stayed behind with them, if I sat and stared and whispered as the demon walked away. So, I went with it. I knew the dangers; I understood them. It was foolish of me to think that my then fellows at the church would understand them as well.
We got not far, perhaps to the beetle caves, before they caught up to us. Warden Garrett, drawing holy symbol, attempted to banish the demon - while the Templar Commander chided me in harsh whispers for being a fool. Perhaps I was being a fool; I would have died, surely, had I gone. But would he have had me do nothing? Would he have had this opportunity go to waste? When I asked what he would have done - he said he would have done exactly what I did, though not listening to the honeyed words of the demon.
Did they think it had lured me so hard that I was going to join forces with it? And then they pulled me aside, chastised me for doing what I thought was my duties. I was compared to a crab; I was told said crab did a better job than I in the Great Scheme, that it fulfilled itself while I was just some naive initiate.
I was told conflicting reports about the church. That everything in the scripture mattered - but that the scripture itself didn’t matter, only Ezra mattered. That a Templars duty was important - but that the Templar was not important at all.
And then I explained why I had joined the Templar Order; That I had joined out of this sense of duty, wanting to sacrifice all of my normal life to be nothing more than the shield between the Legions of the Night and the innocent. And I was told that I was being prideful.
Prideful.
I gave up everything to come here. I gave up my inheritance on the farm; my chances of having a family, or having a normal life. I fought, against horrible things that I dare not describe in writing, just to be able to learn how to use a sword. I spent days, countless hours, training my abilities and honing my skills just to be able to find an Anchorite and join with the Church and give up what little more possessions I had to take the mantle of Templar.
And I was being prideful.
It was that night that I realised that the Church - and, perhaps, it’s vision of Ezra - were both wrong. That I could not sit by and idly let them guide me as the blind might lead the blind through a crowded street. I dare not say that I know the scripture better than them; I dare not say that I fight better than them. But I would say that they do not know Ezra.
How could she want Her holy soldiers to be nothing more than a shield for the clerics? The holy mandate is to push back the Legion, to push back and defend the innocent and meek. To do what she did.
Did anyone believe in Her, when She gave herself up to the Mists? She had Her followers, surely, but a church? She was mortal. She didn’t do what She did, healing and protecting those She found, just because She knew they would worship her. She did it because it was the right thing to do. Because it was what She knew would be true to her heart.
I stand alone. I stand separate from the Church. I will find my path, and my own understanding of Ezra. And, through it, perhaps I will still make this world a better place. Perhaps, through the Mists, I will learn more of Ezra and what She became when She joined them.
I will leave to the Church my shield. Ezra never saw fit to bestow upon me the gift of hers; no matter how much I prayed or worshiped at her altar. It’s only fitting, then, that my own should be given.
< A copied letter, stuck between the pages of the journal.>
"Dear Ser Victor, Templar Commander; I wish to thank you for your patience in dealing with me and my situation today. I apologize for what I did, and for disobeying orders to try and follow the demon. I understand the worry and the pain that it caused, and that it was the wrong thing to do at the time. I wished only to do what I thought was my part in the Grand Scheme; but now, I'm just - confused.
After everything that's been said, after every single thing that came out of Warden Garrett's mouth today was done and told - it boils down to the fact that the Templars are nothing more than the footsoldiers of the church. The noble order that I saw as a child, that I thought stood as a bulwark between the innocent and the Legions - that's not there, if it ever was. All that I see now is - well, soldiers. Soldiers that do what they are told, no matter who is giving the orders. I cannot live that life, sir.
I would fail in this duty as I have already failed in it - and I know that much as true. It is therefor my intention to step away from the Templar Order, and the Church, and find my own path amidst Ezra's grace. I leave you this - my shield - in hopes that you will know that I leave not in anger with you, nor with anyone else in the Church. I leave with the knowledge that I cannot do what I set out to do if I stayed here.
With regrets,
James Hunter."
