The Oathbreaker's catatonic state was rather horrifying to witness. The fact that he was still capable of answering questions and showed no hesitation at answering was useful, far more useful than his death would have been, but Jeryl would almost prefer the man trying to dodge answering or at least spitting insults or imprecations. At least that sort of behavior showed some sort of humanity. Was the man even capable of understanding he had been caught any longer? That his actions had been discovered, and he was facing rightful consequences? The Voice had said that mortal justice remained, but what justice could there be, if the person judged was no longer capable of understanding that the consequences they faced had been earned?
Determining how to achieve that mortal justice for this man was going to be complicated, to say the least, but for the moment he only had to worry about the manpower problem of arresting and questioning everyone the Oathbreaker had listed as un-coerced co-conspirator to this plot, including no less than three individuals assigned to Fourth Court, though thankfully not ones he had pulled in to work on this case. Speaking to those who had been coerced would have to wait, especially since the Incendiary's Voice manifestation had apparently removed all traces of the man's maliciously crafted spellwork.
"Is this catatonic state permanent, Lieutenant-Enforcer?" he asked, glancing over at the soldier when he got within earshot.
The man grimaced, rubbing his face tiredly and admitting, "To be honest, Your Holiness, I have no idea. This is the second time we've used this Rite, and that first Nameless One was dead at the end of the Hunt. I think that this is due to the removal of his magecraft, not his declaration of Namelessness, based on Nameless Two through Five – they fought back after their denunciation, so Namelessness alone doesn't result in this… state."
Jeryl paused mid-nod, turning and staring after that last comment, and he certainly wasn't alone in staring, because what.
"Six," the Enforcer corrected, an odd set of expressions flickering across his face too quickly for Jeryl to actually register what they were, "Ah. Sorry, there were five there, but we started at two. Two through Six. Didn't actually interact with the other… wait, were those three even Nameless? Gah. This one is either Seven or Ten, depending on whether or not those three we dealt with – oh, right! One moment."
"Laskaris!" the Enforcer called, the Firestarter in question looking over from where he was designating another spot for barrel-placing, "Did we test if those three with the Hardornens were actually Nameless?"
"Yes, and they were," the priest called back, evidently knowing exactly what the Enforcer was talking about, "I thought you two denounced them?"
"No, we didn't, they must have been caught in Anika Brersi's denunciation, that's why I doubted. Thank you!" the Enforcer said, turning back to them and saying, "Right then. This one is Nameless Ten. I was really off, I thought he was Eight."
"You count them?" Holiness Ulrich asked, stealing the words from Jeryl's mouth.
"It's the simplest way to keep track of them in the records," Bellamy replied, shrugging, "Writing 'the one once called Bertrand' or whatever their name once was gets tedious, and sometimes I don't actually know their names – like Two through Nine, off the top of my head I have no idea what their names were. And listing out their crimes isn't a useful indicator either, since Two through Six had practically the same listing, so far as I'm aware. Given, we usually refer to them as a collective, but if specifics are ever necessary, we need some way to keep track."
"Right," Jeryl said faintly, forcibly pulling his mind from that unproductive track and asking, "You said removal of his magecraft? That is in addition to the removal of all of his maliciously crafted spellwork?"
"So that is what Kir's half of the Voice manifestation did, good to have that confirmed," Bellamy muttered to himself, which really only prompted more questions, but thankfully before Holiness Ulrich could ask and derail their conversation further, the Enforcer properly replied, saying, "Yes, the exact wording the Voice used was 'We strip you of your Talents', one of which was obviously magecraft."
He couldn't not ask about that, but Holiness Ulrich again beat him to it.
"I'm sorry, are you claiming that magecraft is a Talent?" the black-robe mage-scholar asked.
"Yes," the Enforcer said, giving him and Ulrich a puzzled glance, "Because it is."
"I… had not considered that interpretation," Holiness Ulrich admitted, sounding thoughtful.
"My understanding of magecraft is that, fundamentally, it is the ability to harness magical energy. The level of energy you can safely harness is what results in those power level classifications you use," the Enforcer said, brow furrowing, "But that underlying ability to harness magical energy is a Talent, so far as I am aware. Hansa?"
:That is my understanding as well,: Honored Hansa broadcast, blue eyes boring into the Oathbreaker, :And to be frank, this one is most definitely no longer a mage after that declaration, so the point is rather proven, I would think.:
"Fair enough," Holiness Ulrich said, sounding bemused, before turning to Jeryl and saying, "Apologies for the distraction, Justicar."
"I had much the same questions," Jeryl admitted, "But further enquiries must wait. Honored Hansa, is there anyone at Fourth Court you could use as an anchor for Jumping? I would prefer to get this one truly secured as soon as possible regardless of his current state."
:Holiness Jaina is almost there, I believe,: Honored Hansa replied, power-bleached gaze moving to him instead of the Oathbreaker but no less penetrating for it, :I can take up to four people at once that distance.:
Jeryl bit back his immediate urge to declare himself one of those four and actually thought out what was needed, rather than what he desperately wanted. Fortunately though, he rather thought his immediate arrival in Fourth Court was the best course of action, particularly since the Enforcer could secure the Oathbreaker for transit and Lieutenant Jergen could be trusted to escort the three in need of further questioning – the priest in the group was no mage, but he might ask Holiness Ulrich to accompany the three soldiers and three witnesses to Fourth Court regardless as additional security. The sheer number of times priests had tried to brush by or ignore Sunsguard officers in the course of an investigation was absurd, and the primary reason he had declared one of his men an Investigator on so very many of his cases.
"Lieutenant Jergen, escort these three to Fourth Court, I will have arranged for witness rooms and statement collection by the time you get there. I need to send orders to – hells. Oathbreaker, how many Sectors of Sunhame do you know for certain hold victims of your spell-based coercion?"
"All of them," the Oathbreaker said flatly.
"I apparently need to send orders and explanations to literally everyone, and sooner the better," Jeryl grimaced, "Fantastic. Lieutenant-Enforcer, if you could take the Oathbreaker again? Garth Nolans, you will be the fourth – I would prefer to keep your involvement as quiet as possible, at least until I have Vars in custody."
"However I can assist, Holiness," Nolans replied, tone grim but no less sincere for it.
Nodding at the man, Jeryl turned to Holiness Ulrich, but the elder man anticipated him and smiled, saying, "I will join the Lieutenant and your other men, in that case, so I can offer my own statement."
"Thank you," he said, relieved he hadn't needed to ask. Spelling out the fact he doubted other priests' willingness to cooperate in an investigation seldom went well, no matter how utterly justified he was.
Honored Hansa settled at Jeryl's feet, the others leaving space for the four of them to stand closer, though the Enforcer deliberately kept the Oathbreaker on the outer edge of their little cluster, and Jeryl refrained from activating mage-sight when those flames sparked. He had heard Holiness Colbern swearing under his breath about flash-blindness after the Hunting Rite, and he doubted mage-sight during a Jump would be any better.
A wrench to one side but no actual motion on his part and his feet slammed back into the ground, stumbling forward and Garth Nolans grabbing his arm to steady him. The Enforcer was half-doubled over and breathing very deliberately, the Oathbreaker actually falling to his knees, even though his expression didn't so much as twitch.
"Why does that get worse as the day goes on?" the Enforcer wheezed, Jeryl straightening and murmuring thanks to Nolans, who nodded shortly and was practically tackled by a woman who was undoubtedly his sister. They had apparently been brought to the main entryway of Fourth Court, where at least one Justicar and a few Sunsguard served as gatekeepers – Holiness Jaina and Maude Nolans must have only just arrived, Justicar Marya was barely managing to restrain her reaction to basic incredulity. The Sunsguard behind her were properly spluttering, so he felt a little better about his own reactions to the Firecats he had encountered today.
:Traversing the Void causes cumulative stress on physical shells,: Honored Hansa was speaking to everyone, by the twitches, the Firecat still seated by Jeryl's side and tail wrapped neatly around his paws. :Having a longer gap between Jumps allows that stress to fade, but it takes some marks. Hence your conclusion that Jumping gets worse as the day goes on. Having an overnight stretch with no Jumping is sufficient to relieve that stress – unless you Jump a truly excessive number of times, but at that point you likely face different problems.:
"Like no longer having a stomach," the Enforcer grumbled, heaving the Oathbreaker to his feet with assistance from a woman who was undoubtedly Holiness Jaina, regardless of how she was dressed, "Thanks Jaina. Don't suppose you've heard anything about Valerik?"
"How on earth would I hear anything before you?" the priestess retorted, turning to Jeryl and he quickly introduced himself.
"Jeryl, Justicar of the First Order, assigned to Fourth Court," he said, offering a blessing gesture.
She returned it, inclining her head politely and saying, "Jaina, First Order Firestarter."
With introductions out of the way, he turned to a now merely intrigued looking Marya and said, "I'll be needing runners for every Sector Station sent to my office and three witness rooms prepared – one priest, two staff, all from the southern charity temple complex, Lieutenant Jergen is bringing them. A black-robe mage-scholar by the name of Ulrich is accompanying them, he'll need to be given a space to write out his own witness statement and then can go, he witnessed nothing unique. If anything comes in from those sent to the northern complex, alert me straight away and we'll definitely need a full team for compiling everything that's going to be pouring in, this is going to be a mess."
She had started taking notes on her slate the moment he started talking, and was nodding as he went. Tilting the slate so he could read it, everything he had rattled off was on the list, so he took her chalk and added the three names the Oathbreaker had given for Fourth Court co-conspirators and a brief shorthand message that they were to be uninvolved and would soon be taken into custody themselves, once he had a secure place to verbalize orders and another First Order Justicar to hand the names over to. Her eyes narrowed on seeing that, and he met her gaze deliberately, before tapping the fully written out word 'Oathbreaker'. Marya's expression went grim, and she returned his short nod before going to the main ready-room's doorway and snapping off orders. Jeryl left her to it and turned to the others, finding all five of the actually aware people watching him.
"We'll head to my office," he informed them, heading for the stairs. He could have sent them to a witness room, but none of those were stocked with ink and paper to the levels he suspected he'd need, and he needed access to his court-seal and wax for the first glut of orders. Besides all of that, he didn't want the Oathbreaker out of his sight until the Fourth Court coconspirators were secured and unable to try and silence him.
"What happened to this one?" he heard Holiness Jaina ask, taking up the tail of their group with the Enforcer and Oathbreaker immediately in front of her and the Nolans siblings on Jeryl's heels with Honored Hansa.
"Hunting Rite to catch him, don't worry, Colbern and Laskaris saw the Rite, Seras can interrogate them to his heart's content, and the third denunciation resulted in a stripping of Talents. He's no longer a mage."
"Well, that's one way to get definitive proof that magecraft is a Talent," she said, amusement clear despite the way her voice echoed in the stairwell. They had three floors here, and all First Order Justicars had their offices on the outer edge of the top floor, while the central space was filled with shelves of legal references and filing cabinets filled with blank copies of commonly used forms.
"Hansa also agrees with the classification, so I think we can start presenting it as fact," the Enforcer said, "Did you see Etrius and Rodri at all or were you set on the trap unraveling before they made it to the market?"
"I saw the swarm of locusts they were escorting, though didn't manage to see them themselves," she said dryly, more than one snort of amusement responding to that description, the priestess continuing, "When did the purge of maliciously crafted magic happen? Was that part of the Rite somehow?"
"Define 'part of'," the Enforcer said, huffing a laugh, "No, that was Kir's half of the Voice manifestation."
"Of the what?!"
"Well, sounds like it was an exciting case," Justicar Mattis said, the next-most senior Justicar of Fourth Court appearing in his office doorway and looking more than half-asleep despite the smell of overbrewed and very caffeinated tea coming from his mug. Some days it felt as though the man was singlehandedly responsible for half of the more amusing stereotypes about Justicars, but he was very good at his job and hadn't taken an unreasonable bribe in his life.
Allowing his colleagues to bribe him with tea and treats so he would help them with their reports was very reasonable.
"I believe you want the present tense of that verb," Jeryl retorted, jerking his head towards his own office, "Come along, I have a job for you too, and it won't be wrapped up before Midwinter."
"Excellent," the man muttered, "If you had added a case file to my end-of-year summation, I would have cried in front of the acolytes."
Which would have sent the acolytes into a panic, spawned all sorts of wildly escalating rumors at all levels, and ended with the man receiving a massive gift basket of teas and pastries and pamphlets of terrible puns masquerading as riddles. To be frank, Jeryl didn't see why Mattis wouldn't want that to happen, but appreciated it nonetheless.
"You mentioned a Voice manifestation, Lieutenant-Enforcer?" Mattis prompted.
"A joint one, yes," the Enforcer replied, focusing back on Holiness Jaina as he continued, "The Voice manifestation – I definitely told Seras our first usage of the Rite resulted in a joint Voice manifestation. This one did too, though it was… oddly overlapping, from what I could tell."
Jeryl glanced over his shoulder at the pair while he ran through his long-memorized unlocking spell and key sequence, wondering how much of that was something Holiness Jaina knew how to interpret – he certainly didn't understand much of its implications. It seemed she only had more questions as well, looking distinctly startled, while Bellamy had an odd grimace on his face. Whatever it was he meant by an 'oddly overlapping' joint Voice manifestation, it had likely been an uncomfortable experience.
"Well. We'll be spoiled for choice for Conclave tales," Holiness Jaina finally said, shaking her head, "A joint Voice manifestation, no, Seras never mentioned that phrasing to me."
He could see Mattis startle at that statement, giving Her Holiness a longer look, now that she had mentioned the Firestarters' annual meeting.
"It didn't sound like he had heard of it," the Enforcer said, definitely uncomfortable now. Jeryl couldn't blame him, opening his office door and heading in, waving for the rest to follow him. Fortunately, he often held informal meetings in his office, so while it was rather cramped, there was enough seating, so long as the siblings shared the bench under the window regardless of its awkward closeness to his desk and he cleared the least comfortable chair in the Court of his pile of notes from the year. He'd almost finished his end-of-year report – fortunately reports were due for any case finished in the previous year, so he and those recruited to assist wouldn't have to try and write this mess up before Midwinter's Day.
"This one's the least comfortable," he said over his shoulder, gathering the stack of reports and carefully setting them on the floor with the chunk of an old stonework lintel he used as a paperweight.
"Cheers," the Enforcer murmured, manhandling the Oathbreaker into said chair and frowning before shifting the man's bindings so his arms were hooked behind the back of the chair.
"Is that even necessary?" Holiness Jaina asked, Mattis stepping through behind her and shutting the door.
"Eh. Unsure. Stupid reason to get stabbed though," the Enforcer replied, shrugging and leaning against the wall beside the Oathbreaker out of the same sense of caution. Jeryl appreciated it, though he did agree with Holiness Jaina that it was likely unnecessary.
The soldier's gaze settled on Mattis, nodding politely and saying, "Lieutenant-Enforcer Anur Bellamy, Your Holiness."
"Mattis, First Order Justicar," his colleague replied, turning to Jaina and saying, "And if I'm not mistaken, you are Holiness Jaina, First Order Firestarter and former Incendiary?"
"I am," she confirmed, taking up a spot near the Nolans siblings, "Though I cannot say I am very involved in this investigation."
"I will need your witness statement at the very least," Jeryl said absently, hauling the forms for arrest of Court-assigned Sunsguard and the separate forms required to formally accuse and arrest a priest, particularly a Justicar. Mattis recognized the elaborate header on the latter and raised an eyebrow, setting aside whatever questions he had to step closer and peer over Jeryl's papers.
"Three total?" the man murmured, grimacing, "That's what you have me on, then."
"Likely more," Jeryl replied grimly, writing out names and justification while his sealing wax warmed, "These three are simply those named as willing co-conspirators involved in this latest scheme. Oathbreaker, how many willing co-conspirators do you have within Fourth Court?"
"Three," the man said, voice still utterly flat.
"Who knows if my willing co-conspirators wording is sufficient," Jeryl muttered under his breath, "Hopefully it is. Right. There are likely those who were coerced as well, but that will have to wait. If anyone approaches you after these arrests to discuss themselves being coerced, kindly take down their testimony and if they find themselves literally unable to state the name of one of those involved, prompt them to state the name with the precursor phrase 'the one once called'."
Mattis choked on his tea and had to spit it back into his mug, wheezing and now properly staring between the Oathbreaker and Jeryl, "You mean this man is properly Nameless? The old way, not just – out of custom?"
"Yes," Jeryl said, understanding his colleague's loss of composure completely but unable and unwilling to answer his questions right now, "Nameless and Oathbreaker."
"Definitely an is interesting, then," Mattis murmured, glancing over the names Jeryl had finished writing and grimacing, "Hells. Felis set my teeth on edge, but Edric?"
"Apparently so," Jeryl said, stamping all three sets. Waiting for the wax to set and the ink to dry for at least a few more moments, he examined Mattis carefully before glancing Honored Hansa's way, the Firecat seated at Enforcer Bellamy's side. Mattis hadn't commented on his presence at all – if that was due to lack of opportunity or lack of awareness, Jeryl didn't know.
The Enforcer smiled grimly and gave the Sunsguard's one handed signal for 'assent' before he spoke up, "Holiness Mattis, keeping in mind the fact that the old penalties for Oathbreaking are now provably enforceable, would you be willing to swear an oath that you will secure the three individuals on those orders with all possible legal speed, and ensure they are kept secure and separated, without using excessive force?"
"Definitely present tense," Mattis repeated, hesitating before saying, "So long as another Justicar is the one to declare me Oathbreaker, should I be judged to be in default – we have policies and procedures unique to our branch of the priesthood, and I would want that taken into account."
"Truth, and a reasonable caveat," the Enforcer said mildly, turning back to Jeryl and inclining his head, "His willingness, stated under truth compulsion, is sufficient for myself and Honored Hansa, Justicar. However if you would prefer the additional security of such an oath, by all means."
Jeryl had no idea how the Enforcer had been able to guess what he was after so very well, though he supposed it would be a rather obvious course of action to someone more familiar with using truth compulsions in their investigations, but he was impressed. He also appreciated both Mattis' caveat and the fact that the Enforcer realized it was reasonable.
"I consider it sufficient," Jeryl said, handing the scrolls over to Mattis, "Thank you, Mattis. Once you have those three secured, I need this one hauled down to one of the warded interrogation rooms."
"Of course," Mattis agreed, looking a little blindsided and having visibly startled at reference to Honored Hansa, so the Cat had apparently been hiding himself somehow, "But – my apologies, a truth compulsion?"
:It is one of our abilities, we call it Tell Me True.:
"Fascinating," Mattis murmured, giving a slight bow to the Cat, "My thanks for the explanation, Honored Hansa. Jeryl, I'll come for this one myself once everyone is secured."
With that, he headed out, and Jeryl deliberately put the coming disastrously complicated mess resulting from a Justicar being proven corrupt from his mind. They had been lucky so far – no current Fourth Court Justicars had been accused, though there had been some of their Sunsguard whose judgment had been deemed suspect and their cases in need of review. Last he'd heard, that effort had been nearly wrapped up – and now this would start it all up again. It needed to be done, of course, as messy and terrible as it would undoubtedly be, but for the moment he had more urgent things to handle.
"Once I get the orders and announcements for the runners drafted and stamped, I'll collect your testimony, Mistress Nolans – and your own, Holiness Jaina. Garth Nolans, I'll need to formally collect and record your own testimony regarding today's events as well, but that can wait a bit – what I need more urgently is a crime committed by Darius Vars that you can testify to under truth compulsion as an eyewitness, so I can issue formal arrest orders."
"That I can do," Nolans said grimly, finally sitting down with his sister on the padded bench, and Holiness Jaina claiming a nearby chair for herself.
"If you'd like," the ex-Sunsguard continued carefully, "I can list the laws broken in the incident I have in mind under truth compulsion, and give the full story later – so you can issue those orders as quickly as possible."
"This case is going to spoil me terribly with these truth compulsions," Jeryl muttered, drawing out a stack of sixteen generic incident summary-and-response forms and, from another drawer, four arrest warrants. Seventh and Eighth, both Outer and Inner, were Vars' most common stomping grounds, and name alone would be sufficient for those Sector Stations. The others he would have to file with a full description of Vars on top of the basics, and ideally a sketch though he wouldn't be able to produce one himself, he'd never properly interacted with the wretch.
"You have an incident in mind already?" he confirmed, filling out name and former occupation and the few haunts he'd heard of while he spoke.
"Yes, Your Holiness."
"In that case – the list of laws Vars broke, whenever you're ready."
=pagebreak=
Grevenor had never been healed by one of the true Healers before – the ones that could only Heal, not the mages trained to heal in their own way. It had been rather strange in comparison to mage-craft healing, simply because he was a mage himself and could perceive some of what those spells were doing when performed on him. He was unable to replicate it, of course, he was no healer, but he was able to sense it. He could sense none of what this Healer did aside from the physical sensations. It made the clear delineation the old regime had made between true Healers and mage-Healers a lot more understandable.
Both methods drew on the healed individual's reserves, however, though as his most severe injury had been his punctured eardrums and he had managed to avoid even cracking any bones, he was not so exhausted as he had feared he would be. A good thing, too. Solaris and Karchanek were not being particularly subtle about the fact they wished to speak to him. The Healer left with an exchange of blessing gestures and mention that they were going to the Firestarter's Hall in case his colleague needed assistance, receiving Her Emminence's sincere thanks.
Karchanek was watching him as though he might be a threat.
"Karchanek, what on earth could I have done to offend you so badly?" he asked tiredly, tilting his head back against the armchair he'd been shoved into.
"You're being a coward. Again," the younger man scoffed, "Years of talking and praying, and you still try and shove responsibility onto others."
"I do not!" Grevenor snapped, indignant and feeling a rush of energy with it, "How dare you!"
"How dare you!" Karchanek spat back, freezing when Her Eminence raised one, quelling finger. They both averted their gazes, and Grevenor knew they both felt the same shame. Tiredness and stress were valid explanations, but in truth they were merely excuses.
"I did not choose my Council to fill my ears with my own opinions," Solaris said sternly, "But I did choose those who could express those differences in opinion coherently, and without resorting to volume in an effort to persuade!"
"Apologies, Your Eminence," they both murmured
"Apologies accepted, so long as you actually try to do better," she said, still every inch their Son of Sun, not the woman they could call friend, "And I do not simply mean this moment, where you both resort to insults and tedious repetition! When I hold Council sessions, I wish to hear your opinions. That is the entire point, and now I find myself learning that one of my Councilors is incapable of interacting with Firestarters without resorting to barbs and sneering in the midst of a crisis! That is unacceptable, Grevenor! Entirely unacceptable! You have every right to your own opinions but when they impact your actions, when they lead you to directly contradict another Councilor and have them surprised by it, you go too far! You have had every chance to express your concerns in a constructive manner to myself, to your fellows, to the Incendiary directly, and you have clearly not taken them!
"This ends now," Solaris said, staring them both down and Grevenor fancied he could feel her gaze like a weight across his shoulders, "Grevenor. What were you thinking? What are you thinking?"
Grevenor was tempted to glance at Karchanek, because they had discussed this together over the years, had prayed together, after both of them had a more solid understanding of the sorts of reforms Solaris would be bringing with her. Of the things they had done thinking they were right and lawful and only later found they were wretched and wrong. But he also knew that doing so would only prove Karchanek's point.
"They became the worst of us," he finally said, "Their Order was supposed to hold the priesthood to a higher standard! Keep us honest! And they failed utterly and wantonly and fell the furthest of everyone! They are the worst of us and they are all still here! None of their authority has been taken away, none of their people have been disciplined, every single one of them are carrying on as though they were not monsters! As though they were not a manifestation of everything terrible in the old regime!
"The worst of the summoners, of the necromancers, were all dead within weeks of your Ascent," he explained, he pleaded, "Nameless and Oathbreakers and dead, but not a single Firestarter? Not a single one of them held to the same standard? Perhaps they are needed against Hardorn, but a few demotions at the very least and instead there is nothing."
The room practically echoed with the silence that fell.
"There are no less than twelve former summoners still in the priesthood who genuinely long for the days they could call down Furies," Solaris said, voice cold, "There are far more than twelve members of the priesthood who still think that Talents are wrong – perhaps not utter demonic evil, but certainly worth culling from our population. Worth burning children for. Would you have me kill every one of them? Demote them, humiliate them, for daring to have their own opinions? For daring to have their own thoughts?"
"What?" he asked, startled, "No! Of course not, they can be persuaded, that is what the mandatory seminars are supposed to do – "
"Then what makes the Firestarters so different?" she snapped, a loss of composure that was terrifying for its rarity, "Why should they die for following the former regime's laws, and no one else? You are not thinking clearly, Grevenor, and this is unlike you."
"They were supposed to stop it," he insisted, but his voice sounded small, his own confidence, his own fury, withering to nothing in his chest. All that was left was the guilt and grief that underlay everything.
"The Order could have possibly intervened in the initial descent, yes," Solaris said, very precise emphasis on the words that made her statement anything but an agreement with him, "An Order of never more than twenty-one individuals, stand against a priesthood well into the thousands."
"The first custom and law we can point to as wrong, as directly contradicting a tenant of the Sunlord's Path, was implemented nearly seven hundred years ago. For nearly a century before that, questionable decisions made with potentially the best of intentions were recorded," Karchanek said, repeating information Ulrich and his scholarly allies had compiled and tallied over the past few years, if only making proper and public reports in this past one, "Grevenor, holding a grudge against the current members of the Order for something that old is ridiculous, even if your grudge against those long-dead members was valid, which it isn't. You turned your lover's student in for witchcraft, and she wasted away from grief after the boy burned. That is tragic, that is horrible, but it was not the Firestarters' job to stop you. Are they responsible for burning him? Yes. Obviously. Are they any more responsible for that death than you? I rather doubt it."
"You think I don't know that?" Grevenor hissed, feeling his eyes burn at the memory, as they always did, "You think I don't know that I'm the reason they're both dead? Because I do! And I have worked so very hard to atone for that even though it's impossible."
"And you do not think the Firestarters are trying to atone?" Solaris asked, tone still pointed, but somehow gentler. He didn't deserve that.
"They have lost nothing!" he nearly snapped, "Incandescence Dinesh has taken so very many others to task and has done nothing to his own! He's even pushing one of the Third Orders for promotion, did you know that? He's saying it's ridiculous she hasn't been promoted years ago, that she hadn't already earned a higher rank over the ashes of children! He risks himself recklessly to defend them, to keep them from danger, when he is the best of them."
"Lost nothing?" Karchanek demanded, voice incredulous, but Solaris raised a hand and silenced him.
"They have lost every veil they could possibly use to shield their eyes from the horror of what they have done," Solaris said, hard and implacable as steel once again, "They have lost every reassurance of righteousness, of necessity, of honored duty, that allowed them to fall back asleep after nightmares of children screaming awoke them. They have lost their shield from the anger and terror of their fellows, of the laity, because they can no longer tell themselves they are protecting them, they are serving as the last line of defense against evil that would consume and condemn our very souls. They. Have. Lost. Grevenor. They have lost so very much."
She rose to her feet, and smoothed down her vestments.
"You are tired, and continuing this will only dissolve into the three of us raging at each other. Meditate and pray on what we have discussed, Grevenor, because we will be returning to this topic," she promised, very nearly grim. "Karchanek, I will trust you to assist Grevenor to his quarters without aggravating things further. If you feel you cannot, call for Larschen or someone similar to assist. I will be going to Ari's Hall. I wish to speak to my brother."
=pagebreak=
Lumira was surprised to find Maltin in the kitchen, one of their archive's multitude of books regarding Vanya Flamesinger in hand. As a rule, she did not see Maltin very much at all, though that was mostly explained by the fact that she had been spending the majority of her time out of Sunhame this year, trying to help the men who'd sworn their loyalty to her for no reason beyond the fact she'd treated them with basic decency.
The Eldest had asked her to report on some of the horrors she had heard of from her people, so that the Firestarters had a more solid idea of the sort of enemy they had gathering to their north. She had finished compiling what she wanted to say while he and the Enforcer were out of Sunhame, and had been hoping to get the chance to ask for permission to only relay some of these things before the whole Order.
Henrik was very nearly twenty years younger than her, and seven years younger than the Eldest. The difference in life experience, attitude, and sheer presence those seven years made for left Henrik and their younger set seeming so very much younger than they were. But the ordained ones she could not justify sheltering, they would be on the front lines with the rest of them. The students though… them she could try and shield. Them she had always tried to shield, but any successes on her part had been severely curtailed by the realities of Sunhame as a woman.
She had needed to practically beg to convince Seras to back her on taking Jaina for a few patrols instead of leaving the entirety of her education to Verius. As it was, it had taken the Phyrrus fiasco for him to actually do anything about it, instead of simply making the suggestion to Armand a couple of times a year and accepting the man's refusal without more than a token protest. When she had finally managed to speak with Jaina about the realities of being a priestess and a Firestarter, she had been ready to murder Verius with her own two hands because Jaina had been left with the most horrific of blind spots.
Fortunately, dealing with Verius' greed for students had become a moot point upon his death.
"Any fresh insights, Acolyte Maltin?" she asked, making herself a mug of tea and finding the upper cupboard stash of spiced apple liquer she and Laskaris split the cost of every Conclave. Normally she would save it for the opening, but after this morning and what she had been hearing about everyone else's morning, she needed at least a splash.
"No, Holiness Lumira," Maltin said, Lumira topping off the kettle before returning it to the hearth and sitting down across from Kavrick's student. Now that the Eldest was no longer exiled, every Firestarter had their own little cohort of near-yearmates in the Order, with Kavrick and Valerik just enough older than herself and Laskaris that they had only had a few moons of overlap as acolytes.
Valerik had taken her out into Sunhame a few times. She hadn't worn the name Mira in well over a decade, now, but once upon a time, knowing how to get out of the District and into a marketplace where she could talk frankly about embroidery and stiching without being talked down to as a mere stitch-witch or stammered at as a terrifying monster had kept her sane. She had dusted off that name a few moons ago to get her hands on the perfect gradient-dyed thread for the Eldest's mantle's flame-motifs. The tailors here were excellent, especially after years of getting used to her hands-on involvement in Firestarters' vestments, but sometimes she truly wanted to inspect goods herself rather than give a description and hope whatever they found was adequate.
"Fair enough," she replied lightly, offering Maltin a smile, "Though I suspect you'll be asked that question a lot, going forwards."
He returned her smile at least faintly, which she would take as the victory it was, before ducking his head to focus on his book again. She let him, and instead focused on savoring her tea and what she suspected would be one of the few quiet moments of the next few days.
"I think some of the stranger songs he wrote were trying to make the sun-blessed steel song something others could hear," Maltin said quietly, tilting his book towards her so she could see that he had grabbed the biography that doubled as a compilation of Flamesinger's compositions, placing each piece of music into the biography as he wrote it or near the event which supposedly inspired it, depending on the song.
"Oh?" Lumira asked, leaning forward to look at the song in question. She had no idea how to read music, particularly not the complicated multi-component hymns like the one Maltin was pointing out, but she could at least read the title. The fact that there were no lyrics was also interesting, and explained why she couldn't recall ever hearing it – tonal chanting with instrumental backing of some complicated variety, if she wasn't completely misreading those annotations.
"I haven't heard this one," Maltin admitted, pulling the book back towards himself, "But Father Kavrick asked me if I thought I could write out what the music sounded like, and when I tried to think about what I would need to include, I remembered seeing this once and wondering about why someone would write a hymn like this. It isn't – no one would play it, Holiness."
"Why not?" Lumira asked, propping her chin on her hand and wondering briefly how Valerik was doing – she had just returned from her messenger run to Fourth Court, and had heard murmurs of some sort of excitement involving broken spellcraft as she walked through the District, but had yet to actually see anyone else. Kavrick and Valerik were undoubtedly in Valerik's room with whatever healer had been arranged, while the others were all off on their own missions. That only left herself and Maltin to wait for word.
At least he had a project to keep himself occupied, rather than fretting. She would gladly take advantage of this project herself.
"It's too complicated," Maltin replied, pointing out pieces of the music – at least nine pages all for this song, it was certainly long, whatever else it was, "To actually perform it would require a full vocalist choir and at least six instruments. The only place large enough to host that with the right acoustics to not drown anything out would be the main temple here, and with how long it is, there would be time for at least two full-length processionals. No service would fit that in."
"What you hear from Sun-blessed steel is truly so complicated?" Lumira asked, feeling more than a little wistful. She had no skill for music, never had, but she appreciated it. What must it be like, to hear the world as the Eldest did? To hear sun-blessed steel as a chorus all its own? Kavrick's request might have been made in an effort to give Maltin some project he could sink his teeth into without growing overwhelmed or discouraged by the sheer volume of things they did not yet know or understand, but she would bet it was at least partially motivated by the same wonder she felt herself.
"Pieces," Maltin admitted, looking at the pages and folding his hands in his lap, "It changes, over time, from what Rodri said. I didn't hear any of that shift, when I heard it, but I didn't listen for very long. It was mostly – it was mostly loud."
"You should try and record what you hear, I would be interested to see how it compares to this piece," Lumira encouraged, before smiling faintly, "Though looking at this piece, I suppose you'll need to take more classes with the chorus to do it proper justice."
"Father Kavrick helped me sign up for an intermediate instrumentals course," Maltin admitted, sounding cautiously delighted, "I can't add any more classes for spring, but sometimes they invite students to the advanced seminars."
"Well then, I'll hope you receive one of those invitations," Lumira said, making a mental note to ask Kavrick what other courses Maltin had to complete before his education was considered adequate for ordination. Determining some sort of independent study replacement for some couldn't be too difficult, and that might free up some of his future terms for additional music classes.
Maltin actually smiled at her when he replied, "Thank yo – "
The knotted bracelets she'd started making this year tightened painfully around her wrist, and the window over Maltin's shoulder went from the shapes of the courtyard tinted by the color of the glass to solid red-yellow-gold.
"Get away from the windows!" she barked, lunging for the door and pressing her hands against it – warm, not truly hot, but too warm for this door to be safe to open just now, "Get Kavrick, Maltin, quickly!"
The student was already halfway to the exit and very nearly bowled Her Eminence over when he lunged out the door, stammering hasty apologies but not waiting for an acknowledgment before bolting for the stairs. Lumira would have to tell Kavrick about that; he would be so proud. She didn't bother to acknowledge the woman either, focusing instead on the courtyard that undoubtedly held their Eldest.
The door was cooling, and the windows were no longer entirely blocked by fire. Lumira readied some of her emergency extinguishing spells, only useful in her immediate surroundings and only for a very short time indeed, and cracked open the courtyard door. No fire rushed her, and she could see the gravel and stone and dirt that made up the courtyard this time of year, so she opened the door fully and stepped out, Her Eminence quickly following with two Sunsguard in tow, though they at least looked a little twitchy at the curls and curtains of fire that were flickering in and out of existence in front of them.
The Eldest was on his knees, and wearing the vestments she and Fabron had enchanted and embroidered, so he had some additional protection beyond his own abilities. Kari was with him, but both of them looked exhausted, and unless she was very much mistaken, the Eldest was leaning so far forward to let blood drip from his face onto gravel, instead of onto his new vestments. The man was far from vain, though he certainly understood the value of a display; she suspected that whatever had gotten him into those vestments had been more along the lines of the minor miracle of his investiture as Incendiary, rather than anything so mundane as Kari fetching his robes for him to change into for a bit of uniform-induced shock-and-awe.
Her Eminence plucked a hair from her own head and tested one of the nearby fires with it, grimacing when it caught alight and dropping it, saying ruefully, "I suppose that fireproof trick really does only apply to Anur."
Lumira wondered what that was about, but her extinguishing spells were ready for use, so rather than ask, she carefully started undoing the first braided strand and stepped into the clear space it made. One strand got her to the Eldest's side, and she started the second as she knelt next to him and prompted, "Eldest? You need to be seen by a healer, is there any way you can get these flames extinguished?"
"I am trying," the Eldest rasped, Kari shaking himself and near visibly straining under some unseen weight – undoubtedly tying to do the same. A glance over her shoulder showed Her Eminence standing at the edge of the courtyard with her guards, head bowed and hands clasped in front of her, and no sign of Kavrick.
"Hells," Lumira muttered, focusing on the flames which were still very much present, "And even if he was here this sort of fire wouldn't be something Kavrick's wards would do any better with. What can I bring you to make things easier for you? Anything?"
"Do you have a kerchief or something?" he asked wearily, "These vestments – I can't bleed on them."
"We could wash them in time for Midwinter's Day, but it would be unfortunate," Lumira said, hesitating before carefully offering one arm, unable to stop unweaving her braided spell, "My sleeve has a kerchief in it, I can't stop the unweaving, it's keeping me from burning."
"Right, right. Oh. That's clever," the Eldest murmured, managing to find the kerchief tucked into her sleeve even while his gaze was locked on her carefully paced unraveling, "You only have one braid segment left, you should go."
"I have another six of these bands," Lumira said dryly, "Though they are in my room. I'll fetch them, I might be able to extend their field of influence to include a healer."
"I'm not injured any longer," he said, utterly disregarding the blood he was wiping off his face with her kerchief, "This is strain, not injury. Anur is simply fussing."
"Your Enforcer is simply sane," she retorted, rising to her feet while their Eldest chuckled and shaking her head as she turned to walk back out of his fires. She choked on air when Her Eminence looked up and walked straight into the fires. The two Sunsguard also scrambled, but stopped before making it a step or two, the fires preventing them from coming any closer but Her Eminence, despite her first test's failure, was not burning.
Lumira's sleeve caught and she cursed, hastily starting her unraveling again and continuing forward, passing Her Eminence as she went – were Her Eminence's eyes gold? They weren't blazing with light as they had during the Voice manifestation Lumira had witnessed, and there was none of that weighty presence the Voice carried, the woman who passed her certainly seemed to be Solaris, not someone Other…
"What is this about you dodging a healer, brother?" she heard, and that voice was definitely Solaris herself, arch tone and all.
"I am not dodging, I am simply hazardous," the Eldest protested.
"Oh, of course. My mistake," Her Eminence said, sounding amused in spite of herself, and Lumira was finally far enough from the flames she could stop her unraveling and look back.
Her Eminence knelt in front of the Eldest and gathered Honored Kari onto her lap, the Firecat going practically boneless the moment he settled, and Lumira could just hear the murmur of low-toned conversation under the uncannily quiet whispering of the fires in the air – no wood or coal to snap and crackle, just whatever was floating in the air and burning at the Eldest's will, and somehow the complete lack of any golden light or divine manifestation made the entire thing so much more unnerving. The golden firestorm yesterday had been dramatic, had been surprising, and everyone had converged to help solve the issue. But this?
The Eldest was treating it as an inconvenience.
"Do you know if Her Eminence had any tasks which needed to be completed here?" Lumira asked the soldiers.
"No, Your Holiness, she simply stated she wished to speak with the Incendiary," the Captain said, bowing slightly as most Temple Guard did towards priests and priestesses.
Lumira nodded in return, completing her segment's unraveling and tying it off before pocketing it. She was about to explain that she needed to fetch more supplies to at least have a chance of safely getting a healer into their still fire-filled courtyard when the door to the kitchen opened again and Kavrick stepped out, Maltin and a priest-priestess pair she'd never met in tow. She knew by sight practically every ordained priestess in Sunhame, so this woman had to be one of the formerly isolated true Healers – either that, or a pastoral red-robe, but her black vestments disallowed that.
"Less dramatic than your firestorm, at least," Kavrick said to his student, tone dry enough he had to be teasing.
Maltin's flat look only confirmed it.
"He's trying to extinguish them but cannot manage it," Lumira reported, Kavrick nodding and drumming his fingers against his arm.
"Apparently the utter suppression of flammability he was utilizing to keep things from going catastrophically wrong is very counterintuitive, and when he no longer needed to suppress fire totally, this… backlash, of sorts, is the result," Kavrick said, grimacing, "Or at least, that is what I got from Henrik's rather rushed report. Starting fires is always easier than keeping them from ever forming, it seems reasonable enough. It will make getting him medical treatment more difficult though, Henrik mentioned a punctured lung?"
"What?!"
Fortunately, Kari spoke up before Lumira could forget she only had one extinguishing strand left and storm into fires to shout at the Eldest for blatantly lying to her, broadcasting, :No longer punctured. There was a joint Voice manifestation, his more critical injuries were healed; punctured lung and punctured eardrums for certain, he believes his bone fractures are also resolved, but mental strain and general bruising is still an issue, and the bones would be worth confirming.:
"I rather think all of it would be worth confirming," the unknown priestess said mildly, exchanging a glance with her colleague before looking to Lumira.
"Lumira, Third Order Firestarter," she introduced herself, looking between the healers, "I will be able to get one of you through the flames without being burned, though it will have a time limit, and I can definitely not manage to keep both of you unburned. Kavrick, thoughts?"
"Your techniques would be better for this," Kavrick admitted, brow furrowing, "My methods would all be wards, and if this is backlash from severe mental strain… suppressing it could go rather badly, if it even worked."
"And Henrik has all of your anchors anyway, Father Kavrick," Maltin inserted quietly.
"Ach, good point, I forgot about that," Kavrick grimaced.
Before they could finalize anything, or the healers could even properly introduce themselves, the fires in the courtyard shrank down to pinpricks; mere sparks, flickering and refusing to die, but unmoving and easy to avoid. Still, no need to be unsafe, she would get a few more of her extinguishing strands and then take one of the healers in –
Her Eminence gestured, and both healers brushed right past them. The Sunsguard attempted to follow but Lumira grabbed both of them by their collars and hissed, "Hold!"
They both froze, and she scowled at them, settling her one remaining extinguishing strand back into her hands as she said, "If anything disturbs his concentration, if his hold on those sparks fails, I will be lucky if I can get both of them out. I will be lucky if I can get one of them out. Her Eminence is in no danger, so kindly refrain from making my job any harder than it already is."
"I can get one of them out alive; we might be a little singed, but we'll be alive," Kavrick told her, pressing a hand to Maltin's shoulder and murmuring a request to brew headache tea before following her to the idiot healers' sides.
They were already kneeling on either side of the Eldest, hands pressed against his back and sides, and murmuring to one another about whatever it was they were perceiving. She went to stand behind the priest, while Kavrick took the priestess. With any luck, they wouldn't have to grab their respective healer and bolt for the edge of the courtyard, but better to be ready to do so than to have the Firestarters blamed for scarring or even killing some of Sunhame's most treasured resources. They were going to have enough rumors to counteract after this whole framing-Valerik business, and that was with the priest actually behind it all apparently caught.
"Deep tissue bruising, but no fractures in bones or organ damage I can sense," her healer concluded, "Beginning more focused examination of lungs."
"Moving to head injuries," the priestess-healer replied, settling her hand against the back of the Eldest's neck and letting her eyes slide mostly shut, "Injuries were caused by impact?"
The Eldest gave a one-handed sign of affirmation, but Kavrick responded verbally, saying, "Caught in an explosion in an enclosed area; thrown against barrels in addition to the shockwave itself. Lots of fine particulates in the air too. Lung was reportedly repunctured by that impact."
"Repunctured," the male healer muttered, "Hmm. Yes, I can see that. Lungs are not punctured, nor do they have any fluid in them. Aggravated due to poor air quality, and some lingering weaknesses, likely due to that prior injury. I may be able to strengthen them, but it will take more time and is not needed urgently."
Kavrick and she both nodded, and she caught the Eldest's insistent delay hand-signal, agreeing entirely with his decision and relaying it aloud, "That can wait, then, until the Eldest is under less strain."
"Yelena?" the priest prompted, the female healer humming but not responding otherwise. He apparently knew what she meant, though, and settled his hand over hers.
"I can lessen some inflammation caused by the mental strain of your abilities, and though there are no lingering signs of it I suspect you had a concussion simply due to the other injuries you suffered," the priestess, apparently Yelena, said, speaking directly to the Eldest, "Your punctured eardrums were healed completely, as well. Nothing critical remains, though as Coric said, I would like to see what aid we can offer when you are under less strain."
"That can be arranged," Lumira promised, because regardless of what the Eldest wanted, Jaina and the Enforcer would undoubtedly agree with her. By the flicker of amusement across Kavrick's face, he knew exactly what she was thinking, and definitely agreed with her. She was right, after all.
The healers accepted that response, and rose to their feet, bowing to Her Eminence and accepting her blessing before leaving, Kavrick following them both and Lumira holding back until they were clear, and starting her final unraveling the moment the sparks flared back into proper flames.
"Will you both be remaining here?" she asked, not letting her breath hitch in alarm out of sheer stubbornness.
"Yes," Solaris responded, breathing no longer synchronized with the Eldest's, continuing over the Eldest's wordless protest, "No, Kir, you are not going to the Trial room unless you start burning this courtyard to the point of damage. Here, others could reach you with their extinguishing spells, should they need to. That Trial room? The only one who could get to you would be Jaina, and she is not here, or Kari, and he is exhausted. You can let your fires burn, and not have to struggle to keep yourself alive."
"Is there anything I can bring the two of you?" Lumira asked, rather than get diverted by the realization that the rumors of the Eldest using the Trial room as a safeguard were apparently accurate, how absolutely terrifying.
"I believe I heard someone mention headache tea?" Her Eminence said, smiling wearily, "It could not hurt."
"I will bring some," Lumira agreed, "And convince your guards to wait in the kitchen, Your Eminence, so you have fewer things to worry about, Eldest."
"Thank you," he murmured, voice less hoarse than it had been, at least.
"Yes, thank you," Her Eminence echoed, adding, "It is known where I am – if anyone comes looking for me, could their presence be passed along?"
"Of course," Lumira agreed, turning away and wondering if she could convince one of the guardsmen to wait in the main hall to serve as relay or if she would have to lurk there herself until someone else made it back from their missions. She would ask Maltin to manage it, but depending on who came looking for Her Eminence, the student might be overwhelmed, and he had already had a stressful few days.
"Her Eminence plans to remain here for the forseeable future," she informed the soldiers, "To minimize risk, they ask that you wait indoors."
They didn't argue, so that was one issue taken care of. Now for the remaining Ari knew how many.
"Well, looks like you're right, Devin, being a mage does count as being Talented."
"How many fish do you think we need to get Kari to take us on a Jump? Just a short one!"
"Does this mean we can say Her Eminence is an aunt?"
"NO!"