Chapter 34: Su Orden Oscura.

Those who enter in Her service swear an oath upon Her trifold aspect. The gentle shade, which shelters and protects. The cloak of starlight, which illuminates and obscures. The devouring void, which scours and purges. Where one man may only attempt to grasp one, a thousand shall embody all three. Thus is Her decree.

In truth, it wasn't even the voice itself that Blake found objectionable. Though it lacked youthful vibrance, it carried with it an air of mystery and experience of decades untold, yet without the scratching faults that crept into one's voice box as the body began to succumb to the withering influence of said decades. In a way it reminded her of Ren.

Far more telling, however, and thus distressing, was Erin's reaction to said voice calling out her name from beyond the door frame. As if jolted by a discharge thousands of volts strong, his head snapped towards the door, and in his widened eyes Blake saw everything she needed to know: a brief flash of confusion growing into recognition, and from that recognition, a torpor spreading through all his extremities as dawning horror set in.

"Brother Vi-" he muttered briefly before jerking awake and rising to his feet, eyes unmoving. "No, it can't be! Already?"

"Something I should know about?" Blake inquired, her tone nonchalant despite the ever growing tension in her body. Inch by inch, leaning forward in her bed as the muscles in her legs tensed, as if winding a spring, her hand covered the distance between her and her blade at about the same rate.

If anything, her interjection was successful in breaking Erin out of his stupor as his eyes darted for a split second to look at Blake, then back at the door, then once more at Blake, torn between two conflicting stimuli demanding his full attention. In the end, however, the more immediately pressing issue of his charge reaching for her weapon won out: his shoulders slackened, and Erin breathed a weary sigh as he turned to face the Faunus. He nodded.

"...Yes. But now that he's here, it's a little late."

He once again eyed the handle of Gambol Shroud, now confidently within Blake's reach, but failed to mount an objection, turning instead towards the door.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I have to open."

It was only through resolving herself to trust in Darius having accounted for whatever eventuality this was shaping up to be that Blake was able to release her grip upon the familiar handle of her weapon. Another breath to steady herself, and she nodded.

"Go ahead."

A single bound was all Erin needed to cover the non-insignificant distance between his chair and the door. With a twist and a tug the door flung inwards, bidding welcome to yet another new face.

Frankly, if appearances could be taken at face value when dealing with people with awakened aura, Blake could have felt pretty good about her estimation of the new visitor's age based purely on the sound of his voice. As it was, however, estimates became guesses at best, and she was only further reminded of this as his hazel eyes met her gaze, the surprising warmth in them cutting a stark contrast to his overall appearance. Even despite the garments concealing his exact proportions; a beautiful black robe not dissimilar to what she'd seen the priests of the Church don, yet ornamented with silver instead of the more traditional bronze or gold, it wasn't hard to tell that she wasn't facing a frontline combatant, not that she'd be more prone to underestimating him one way or the other. Long, thin fingers that would look less out of place wrapped around an old-timey quill rather than a weapon and harsh, almost gaunt lines of his weathered face attested to that. Indeed: though fire and steel may be of little use to him, Blake sensed clearly that this was someone who could accomplish much of the same with but a couple words. Erin's deference only served to further illustrate the point.

Of course, the fact that he had to crane his neck simply to fit comfortably through the door frame only compounded matters.

"Erin," he spoke, and while Blake couldn't possibly be certain, she could've sworn there was a hint of surprise to his voice. "I was wondering where you'd be when I didn't see you in the canteen. Whatever brings you here?"

"...Brother Viggo," she heard Erin swallow, yet his response was orders of magnitude apart from his initial reaction, confident in his place here. "Brother Darius approached me earlier today and asked to check on Blake while he took care of matters. If anything, I should be asking you this."

"I see."

There was little to be gauged from his reaction, and even the slight curving of his brow served more to formally acknowledge his previous surprise rather than indicate anything beyond. "Please excuse me. I didn't mean to doubt you."

"It's fine," her companion blurted out immediately, something Blake couldn't help but slightly roll her eyes at. Whatever position this Brother Viggo occupied within the Order, she couldn't imagine him not catching on. "But what brings you here? Has the trial concluded already?"

"It has," the senior servant nodded, once more directing his attention to her. "And I believed Miss Belladonna deserved to be informed of the finer points of its results, as the Avatar has yet more urgent business to attend to. That, however…"

Once more turning to face Erin, his arm reached out to squeeze his younger comrade's shoulder in an unexpectedly reassuring sentiment. "...Is a conversation reserved for two only, and I can tell I've interrupted one. You're quite tense, Erin. Something the matter?"

It was a most peculiar interaction to observe from the sidelines, and perhaps there was something to be said about judging people by their appearance, but what should have looked from every conceivable angle like a high-ranking officer physically menacing their subordinate was, in actuality, anything but. Within moments Erin's shoulders slacked as tension drained out of him, and as he shook his head slightly to drive out his remaining doubts, he looked up at his superior and spoke not with apprehension, but rather a hint of embarrassment:

"...I'm sorry, Viggo, it's just..." mulling around for a bit, he put it as is. "You've got terrible timing, is all. I was explaining the Order's standard procedure for these kinds of incidents to Blake and you just happened to knock on the door as I was getting to the last step… I kinda panicked."

Evidently to Blake, there was some context she was clearly missing that made the situation rather humorous to Erin's superior, as demonstrated by his lips creasing into a thin smile.

"That explains it. I half-expected something along these lines."

Blake's eyebrows shot up at about the same rate as her ears as she shifted in her cot.

"You expected this, specifically?"

"It makes sense in context, ma'am. I'd be happy to clue you in," his smile unwavering,Viggo, as her warden called him, let go of Erin's shoulder and turned once again to Blake. Noting immediately, however, how the boy's gaze followed him, he stopped halfway to address him once more:

"I'm only here in a semi-official capacity, Erin. Has to do with the trial. I promise that there'll only be more knowledge in this room by the time I'm done."

"If you say so."

"I do say so. I shall handle introductions myself, so why don't you grab a bite to eat in the meantime? This shouldn't take too long."

Blake realized in the next moment that it was now her that Erin was targeting, wordlessly looking for her approval. She heaved a quiet sigh. Trust was in short supply right about now, it felt like. She'd have to do with second-hand. With a brief nod, she dismissed him, and then there were only two in the cell.

"Please, allow me to once more apologize for the rocky introduction," as the door slid shut, her new acquaintance inclined his head slightly, extending an offer of friendship along with his arm. "When Avatar-adjacent matters are concerned, one can only be so in control."

"'Rocky introductions' has been a recurring theme for me when dealing with your Order, undercover or not," hoisting herself from her cot, Blake accepted the limb and the two shook on it. Coincidentally, the motion caused the loose sleeve of Viggo's robe to slide up his forearm ever so slightly, allowing Blake to catch a glimpse of a familiar strip of brown metal slung around his wrist. "Except for Erin, I suppose. But I guess I also can only complain so much. Once you get past that, all were people generally worth knowing."

"I will strive not to buck this trend," Viggo responded with a smile. Blake couldn't help but note that it didn't reach his eyes.

"I assume you're the person responsible for this 'third step', whatever it is," once their grasp broke, Blake elected to lean against the outer wall of her cell instead of sitting back down, with Gambol Shroud comfortably in her reach. It wasn't necessarily that she anticipated events to turn violent - she rather hoped for the opposite, in fact - but appearing completely trusting to this individual seemed folly to her. They both knew better.

"Just so," himself settling on the opposite side of the wall, Viggo nodded, and his expression grew somber. Both also knew better than to waste one another's time, it would seem. "Once the trial is concluded and the verdict rendered, it falls to Internal Security to make certain that no knowledge of our Order is leaked to the outside world. It is a... tenuous proposition, especially when bystanders and civilians get involved. To this end, the Order employs and cultivates a contingent of people who have exhibited psychic-type Semblances that allow them to access or manipulate a subject's memory, to administer limited amnestic treatments to affected parties. This headquarters of our Valean chapter is crucial to continually replenishing and swelling this number. Almost every person you've met in your brief stay here has some measure of psychic ability. In an incident of such high profile, this duty would fall to me personally as head of the department."

It took a moment to filter unrelated trivia from the core of the message, but as the process approached completion, Blake found her jaw tightening to an almost painful degree and her sword hand itching almost unbearably to reach out and grasp her blade. Psychic Semblances were not exactly common, but when sample size approached millions of people, there were only so many unique ways a Semblance could manifest. Those who found themselves with one were practically guaranteed - or, as some opined, consigned to - a stable occupation within their Kingdom's government under constant scrutiny for the exact reason described to her by the servant. As such, odds were solid that if any given psychically-gifted individual was not on that side of the law, they were on the other. For some, even the prospect of being a wanted fugitive seemed more tolerable than unceasing attention from the state's unblinking eye. For many others, as Blake knew firsthand from her background, the law's justification of their pursuit rang much more true.

"I thought I'd heard something about this from Darius. You blank people who get swept up in your affairs," she lobbed the first accusation once she got a hold of herself, aimed more to probe rather than provoking an actual reaction. "I wonder what the councils of the four Kingdoms would have to say about a rogue NGO that scoops up espers from under their noses and puts them to use completely outside their oversight."

To his credit, if there was any sort of emotional response on Viggo's side, his features did not betray it for even a second. Only the slight hitch of his breath, an inhale held for just a second longer than the last one, told Blake that anything she said even registered.

"Your apprehension is not surprising, and fully understandable, Miss Belladonna," when he spoke up, his tone was held carefully level, yet his eyes bored through Blake with the conviction that couldn't come from someone doubting their moral reasoning. "Yet I must urge you to… refrain from such pessimistic assessments. We, more than anyone on Remnant, are aware just how sensitive a subject this is. Many of our policies regarding the use of these talents have been formulated decades, if not a full century, before the very concept of ruling councils first emerged, and when they became more than that, we made sure that our centuries of experience were taken into account once they got around to considering these kinds of regulations. Our intervention is surgical and restricted exclusively to compromising information. We certainly don't blank anyone."

"And what do you do, exactly?" Blake inquired, corners of her lips distending into a disdainful smirk bordering on a scowl. "What's the ethical term for mind wiping people nowadays?"

"There isn't one," Viggo's gaze hadn't wavered for a second, and as his voice grew sharper in response to the unrestrained bile in Blake's question, his posture straightened to tower over her even from the other end of the room. "I will be the first to admit that ethics are not a luxury we can consider in these questions, Blake. Each such decision is made out of necessity and nothing else: the necessity to preserve our clandestine nature and, even more importantly, to ensure the safety of innocents from our numerous adversaries, many of whom do not share our moral scruples and have no qualms going after civilians for even a crumb of genuine information about us. Knowledge is power. And when it is left in the hands of those who cannot wield it, its allure becomes irresistible to those who can."

Hazel brown eyes, replete with the quiet determination of a man wholly confident in his beliefs, stared down against Blake's amber, ablaze with indignation and contempt, and the latter blinked first. She remembered that look. She could see it in Darius' eyes at times, more often than not subdued, yet flaring up when he spoke of his otherworldly patron. As moments ticked, one after the other, a realisation set in that, try as she might, she couldn't actually argue against the man's rationale, and attempting to continue this argument purely for the sake of it would see her sink to flinging personal insults, which rankled her sensibilities something fierce. She was reminded of her first proper introduction to Darius, and the wasted weeks that followed because she was so willing to latch onto the first thing that validated her hatred.

Let's assume for the time being that after everything that happened between us, Darius didn't decide to just have me blanked. He's in dimeritium, and my sword is right beside me.

Maybe try and get it right the second time around.

"I apologize," Blake inclined her head, letting her eyes rest briefly and relaxing her stance. "I'm used to seeing the worst in people, especially people in positions of authority. I… appreciate your honesty with me and with yourself."

"Service in Her decree does not tolerate disingenuousness, ma'am. Integrity and honesty with ourselves and the duty we are sworn to are paramount. Brother Darius would personally attest to these words."

Something about the latter sentiment sent shivers down Blake's spine, tiny centipedes tap-tap-tapping away down the vertebrae from the base of her skull to a spot right between her shoulder blades. An instant where Viggo's voice lost just one otherwise imperceptible component to it, yet caused the cordiality to cut like a knife, the meaning of a seemingly deferential statement turned upside down… but only if one knew what Blake knew now. Something told her the two were not on the best of terms.

"That being said, I am..." the servant continued as he was, thin lips drawing into a thinner line still as he paused in the middle of a sentence. "...Glad, for lack of a better word, that the full severity of the situation is not lost on you."

"And yet despite that, we're still talking," Blake remarked. "I understand your reasoning, but I have to make it clear that I have no intentions of submitting to this. Not unless Darius comes to personally force me into this at swordpoint." At which point we're going to have a very frank discussion.

That seemed to have gotten through to him. Mentioning Darius at the very start was probably simply brushed off, but this definitely put some cracks into Viggo's unflappable demeanor. Features creased into a frown, together with a sharpness that suddenly shone in his eyes, brought unbidden allusions to a bird of prey that had her locked in its sights. When his reply came, it was bereft even of that bit of venomous cordiality.

"Had he the sense to do so, we may not have ended up in this situation in the first place. He, instead, chose to double down on the absurdity."

"I can't say I appreciate the tone you're taking, Viggo," Blake escalated in turn, trying her hardest to contend with the heart pounding against her chest like she was running at full tilt instead of holding a somewhat heated conversation. "What have you done to him? You said the trial was over, so where is he?"

"Miss Belladonna, you've witnessed firsthand what that man is capable of," the servant shook his head dismissively. "There is nothing any one member of the Order here can do to him against his volition except maybe for Master Wilhelm himself. The expedited trial was called as soon as our cleanup teams had secured all viable evidence from the scene of the incident at his own insistence, if I might stress, and upon its conclusion he took off immediately to consult with our Intel and Operations departments. I suppose I cannot fault his diligence."

Even despite tensions running quite high, Blake couldn't help but grin a little at the notion. She could certainly sympathize.

"But, of course, not before he could step all over my own department's toes, hence my actual reason for being here."

"You certainly took your time getting there."

"On the contrary, ma'am," this time, the thin smile seemed genuine, if in part sardonic. "You have been remarkably resilient in your handling of the information presented to you, which has accelerated matters significantly. Typically it takes at least this long for the affected party to let go of their initial apprehension the moment they hear 'amnestic treatment'."

"Never said I did," Blake retorted with a half-smile of her own. "And I assume the only reason you're letting up is because of Darius' personal intervention."

Viggo sighed.

"You're exactly right," he nodded. "Normally, these measures are non-negotiable. In the case of civilians, such as yourself, the only variables are the sum of the monetary recompense that is guaranteed to them for such egregious intrusion of privacy and the time it takes to convince them of their necessity."

Blake failed to contain a frown at being dubbed a civilian so unceremoniously, but once again couldn't mount a sound rebuke, no matter how much this chafed at her. The procedure Viggo was describing mirrored the rare occasions when the governments of the four Kingdoms sanctioned such drastic measures to a tee. Thus, it wouldn't be a far cry to assume that the Order itself operated with legal definitions of the Vytal Statute, drafted upon the eponymous island the day after the treaty ending the Great War was signed. While Hunters were afforded a legal status distinct from both combatants and noncombatants, Hunter trainees, especially first-years like herself, were not.

Certainly, she could always demonstrate to the man currently bound in dimeritium exactly what kind of civilian she was. That idea was quashed the moment it popped up in her hindbrain, however, reasons varying from her conscience telling her it would be, to understate it, extremely disrespectful to Darius, to the realization that fighting through an entire facility of people with awakened aura whose layout she hadn't had a glimmering about was a very tall order, ending with a sneaking suspicion that the entire point was moot.

"Brother Darius, however, had his own opinion on this," Viggo's words all but confirmed it as his posture straightened, almost brushing the ceiling of the infirmary cell with his head as his full height towered over Blake. His tone turned solemn as he spoke. "By his order as the Avatar of our Lady, in Her veiled decree and by his will, this Order recognizes you, Blake Belladonna, as a trusted associate of the first degree."

With the official part out of the way, he appeared to deflate several sizes as he hunched slightly, bracing himself against the table and slowly lowering into the chair nearby. He sounded notably more subdued when he continued:

"Normally such decisions don't go through without a thorough background check on our department's end. As I'm sure you've already noticed, however, normality cedes ground quite readily when the Avatar becomes involved. With this, you're as close to us as can be without going through an initiation of your own and joining our ranks in full capacity. The amnestic procedures are thus rendered unnecessary. Some might argue that you still know more than many of our fully-fledged acolytes. Some are free to go and debate that with the Avatar directly."

On some level, Blake certainly understood him, as evidenced by the small sympathetic pang at her heartstrings. She could quite easily imagine what was going through Viggo's head in regards to this entire situation; after all, she lived through it. Only she now had the luxury of kicking back on the wayside and watching it all blow over instead of being directly responsible for fixing this.

Her minor heartache reverberated with new strength once she thought of what it had to be like for Darius himself. Driven by an impulse she couldn't have controlled even if she wanted to, her eyelids briefly drifted together, letting the memories of the brief moment they shared flood in unabated. She felt heat flush her face, though only a pale shade of the heat that suffused all of her body as they grasped each other so desperately. She remembered the hunger in his eyes, the kind of hunger she saw only in the eyes of one other.

Blake frowned. She lost him to arrogance that had blinded him, and to her own unwillingness to see the growing changes until it was too late. She would not lose Darius to his guilt and the perceived mortal debt he owed.

"That seems like a solution that satisfies everyone." She opened her eyes. Following a brief consideration, she amended her statement with a small concession. "Well… with the exception of brushing aside your background check. No offense."

"And with the Order's security compromised by the biggest leak in the last decade and a half either way," the servant added with a mirthless chuckle. "But yes, I'd call it quite ingenious without any reservations if it weren't my backyard he trampled all over. He knows full well that he can't make demands against you, since you're not part of the Order, even now, so he chooses a way that only bypasses the procedure of a single department instead of barring us completely from performing our duties. He gets what he wants without tossing ever more kindling onto his pyre, we aren't facing a conflict of interest..."

Blake couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment when it happened, but at some point she found herself speared by Viggo's eyes, a cold, sharp glint within them.

"...And should you come upon a change of heart, we would have no reason, no right, really, to refuse you. I wonder if that's what he's counting on."

Blake could've sworn the static lighting of her cell dimmed in her eyes for a couple seconds, so visceral was her rejection of the very notion. Her body went through the motions before her mind ever had the chance to catch up: her right hand reached out and grasped at Gambol Shroud's handle, index finger depressing a release to pull the slender blade of her katana out of the bulkier sheath. Another switch folded the blade in on itself until she was only left with the pistol in her palm. Only with the click of her left hand chambering a round by rocking back the slide did her mind snap out of the haze, though no less angry for it.

"I'm getting sick of these games, Brother Viggo, and you're terribly audacious for having dimeritium slung around your arm," her voice came out as a barely-contained growl, but what little remained of her impulse control was enough to stop her from immediately levelling her weapon at the man. "That you have the gall to presume what he's thinking! What in the Grimm are you implying with this?!"

"Nothing that you don't seem to realize yourself, at least subconsciously, based on your reaction," bafflingly, the servant seemed to have anticipated this outburst, his only response to shift slightly in the chair and to put both his hands upon the armrests in a gesture of compliance. "As the second-highest ranked individual with a psychic gift in this facility, bar, of course, the Chapter Master presiding over the trial, I was tasked with verifying Darius' testimony. To this end, he permitted me to access relevant memories over its course. If nothing else, he was very much cooperative. I'd argue I know entirely too well how he thinks for my taste."

It felt quite similar to being punched, full-strength, in the sternum by subject of their conversation. The air that she so casually took for granted now eluded her strained gasps as she struggled to suck in another breath and the grip on her weapon wavered dangerously, to the point where her other arm had to grasp the faltering limb across the forearm in a vise grip just to keep her hand muscles clenched. Getting the dressing-down from some cultist sour about his paperwork being tossed about was one thing. The same cultist being acutely aware - no, worse, having been made aware by Darius - of their bond was quite another.

"How… how much do you know?" she managed to mouth, still struggling to get her breathing under control.

"More than is comfortable for either of us, Miss Belladonna," Viggo replied softly. Blake was surprised to note that he sounded almost apologetic. "Unsanctioned disclosure of information pertaining to the Order's nature, operations, or structure to an outside source' was among the primary charges brought up against him. Self-admitted, no less. I had to personally assess every bit of disclosed information by way of my Semblance. The attached memories… weren't something I could just skip past."

There was a shakiness in her legs she couldn't ignore. Forestalling the inevitable, she slowly ambled back to her cot, bearing down upon it with all her weight, which the bed bore stoically. Not like there was much of it there. Her free hand took hold of the Gambol Shroud's sheath, leaning on it much like a cane. It was a small comfort, but the cold metal felt reassuring in her hand.

"If it's any consolation, ma'am, I don't intend to hold onto these memories any longer than is absolutely necessary," in the absence of objections from Blake's side, the man continued. "Once you are out of our custody, one way or another, and this incident is filed away, I shall purge them myself. There is a great deal of knowledge that I must retain and pass onto my successor, but it's not this."

"I don't understand," Blake finally managed to intone after a great deal of time. "Why would he agree to this? You're telling me he could completely brush your entire department by the wayside when it came to protocol, but this is where he complies?"

Viggo sighed.

"It's clear that Darius didn't manage to properly impress upon you the true meaning of being a member of this Order. I suppose he, of all people, wouldn't be able to," the servant shook his head. "The circumstances of him joining our ranks proper were nothing short of miraculous, but even he understands well that despite all the talk of procedure, which is critical to keep an organisation of our scope running, we're still family, first and foremost."

'No secrets between family, he told me.'

"Even my contentions with him, professional or personal, cannot override this truth. We have to keep looking out for each other. That also means avoiding the highest preventive measures if at all possible, even in the face of such damning charges."

"What were they?" she asked.

"Threefold, if you overlook the disclosure of information I mentioned. 'Unsanctioned involvement of civilians in the Order's operations', compounded by 'intentional endangerment of civilian life' to justify the following 'excessive force response'. It was as grave as transgressions get."

"That's..." the choked sound that bubbled in the back of her throat refused to leave until she took a couple seconds to clear it. "That's nowhere near close to what actually happened! You can't be serious!"

"I know that now, Blake," the man held up his hand, forgoing formalities once again to emphasize his point. "Which is why cooperation was in his best interests, as well. This process is invaluable in establishing motive and intent. With us being able to properly assess the true numbers of the opposing force, as well as noting his repeated attempts at deescalation, the latter charge has been dropped entirely. And..."

Much to Blake's bewilderment, Viggo actually stumbled for a second before getting a hold of his wits again. "With the added context of your involvement, the charge of endangerment has been downgraded from 'intentional' to 'negligent'."

"That's supposed to make a difference?!"

"Absolutely. It's the difference between assured death or banishment and anything else."

A shudder rippled through Blake's body completely outside of her control at the mention of the word 'death'. She shook her head.

"And the first two?"

Silence weighed heavily on them for some time before Viggo rolled his shoulders slightly in resignation.

"Guilty in full, by admission. The first one was technically made moot by his decree, but even with the remaining two functionally anyone else would have been looking at some… very severe disciplinary measures."

"Anyone but him, I take it?" Although the answer to that question may already have been spoiled by the good doctor Flynt yesterday, Blake couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief. She had to admit to herself with no small small measure of surprise that she had more qualms about feeling said relief than she expected to. Something to be said for Viggo's powers of persuasion, she supposed.

"You've seen it, ma'am. I've seen it," the man in question shrugged. "There can be no denying that what happened there was nothing less than Her own intervention. He willed those men dead, and She decreed it thus. The Order must acquiesce. And that's all I'm saying to that, because just trying to think about which part of this disaster She could possibly approve of I'm reminded of a certain word that our brothers and sisters of the Church once used with reckless abandon. It's… frighteningly pertinent here."

Blake frowned for a moment. Deciphering that took a second, but once she cracked the code a corner of her lips unknowingly curled into a small smile.

"Is it… is it heresy, Brother Viggo?"

"It's heresy, Miss Belladonna."

"I didn't expect you to have a sense of humor."

"What makes you think I was joking?"

...Quite.

"Alright, fine, but then what was even the point?" she picked up once more as what little levity was brought into the room with the previous exchange evaporated without a trace. "Forgive my ignorance, but this makes it look like the whole trial was just to wag your finger at Darius."

"...Apt," for the second time Viggo's otherwise inscrutable features were distorted by a thin smile. "But if you'll forgive me my repetition, I will remind you of our core tenets: honesty and integrity. The Order may not be in position to dispense punishment… yet. But this has been an excellent litmus test to demonstrate where things stand."

Blake assuredly did not enjoy the icy tone that Viggo's voice assumed at the end of that sentence.

"The unfortunate reality of it is that Darius Silva saw fit to compromise an operation weeks in the making because his personal feelings bucked his better judgement. He then proceeded to manifest his very first instance of the Avatar's true power, and then first used his authority as one, all to shield you from the consequences of his mistakes. Not the Order. Not his mission. You."

Something clicked inside Blake's mind.

"And you think if you get me out of the way, he'll just accept it?" she all but hissed at him. Her gun, previously discarded upon the bed, once more gleamed with irresistible allure, but for the time being she elected to resist it.

"You haven't been there when he argued his charges, ma'am. He's a frighteningly intelligent young man," Viggo drawled. The look in his eyes was almost… tired. "I am certain that he harbours no illusions over the truth of his actions, either."

"I'm not doing it, Viggo," she repeated, feeling a terrible shaking beset her limbs. Clenching them into fists to at least somewhat alleviate the symptoms, she realized with dawning horror that she was blinking back nascent tears from the merest implication that Darius might share this point of view. "The only way that's happening is if Darius makes me."

Or was it, perhaps, because some part of herself understood it, as well?

"Miss Belladonna..." the servant began, but almost immediately bit back his words. "Blake. I don't want you to think that I'm blaming you for this. For whatever it's worth, you have my deepest sympathies."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. It unsettled her that she could not detect any falsehood in them.

"I've been married for close to forty years now. To this day, this remains the best decision I made in my life… but even there considerations had to be undertaken that it not impede me in my duty… or vice versa. I am far from young, but those memories are as fresh as any other. Any other soul who would find themselves before such an unfortunate choice would have been deserving of compassion. We're only human, after all."

He sighed.

"But the Avatar… Her felling hand… he cannot operate on this kind of calculus. Not without disastrous implications for the future. Yesterday he weighed almost a hundred lives against yours and made his decision in a heartbeat. I saw that much. Today he weighed it against his duty as a servant. The way he'd made his declaration… It was almost like he only called this trial to put us before the fact. And that's only the beginning."

"All the more reason for me to stand by him until the end, if his own self-proclaimed family won't."

She could swear there was a brief flicker of indignation in his eyes as they bored through her. Blake would be lying to herself if she didn't admit to the small rush of vindictive glee surging through her heart.

"I particularly liked your pyre analogy. It's a very handy scheme, to pile on potential future cases against the poor schmuck who's been saddled with doing your dirty work for you while alienating them every step of the way. Apparently it's saved you the trouble of actually carrying through with the sentencing every time so far. I imagine there'd be issues with that if yesterday truly was only the first taste of what's to come and he were to object to taking the fall for you."

"Everything I told you… Everything he told you, and this is the conclusion you draw?" Viggo seemed more baffled than anything else.

"Well…" raising her hands slightly, Blake decided to backpedal ever so slightly before the servant had a stroke. "I'll admit that I wanted to get a little rise out of you with this one, but you have to agree that this isn't a good look. Don't you have even a little faith?"

He was definitely baffled by this.

"You know, when Darius first told me about you, I half-expected, half-dreaded that you'd just be some kooky mob grasping at straws to proclaim literally anything at all as a divine sign. Or worse, just a pyramid scheme that uses orphans and other destitute people to do its dirty work, but honestly this is almost worse in some respects. I could never have imagined that an organisation, real or imagined, could have so little faith in their own chosen one even after a message spelling it out this clearly."

"Not. Chosen. One."

For a second there Blake had to wonder if she'd pushed a little too far. This was by far the strongest reaction Viggo had to anything she'd said: knuckles pale from the effort, his hands wrapped around their armrests in a crushing grip; she could almost hear the wood cracking. Eyes narrowed to a fine point looking at her with shock, poorly disguised anger…

...And shame?

"I'm afraid you're getting your definitions mixed up, Miss Belladonna," there was notable effort to keep his tone level. As his right hand let go of the chair, Blake noticed it was trembling. "Avatars are not an elected post. Neither rank nor station play a role in whether they hear Her call, but he's told you as much himself. Rather it is they who make the ultimate choice to give wholly of themselves to Her bidding."

"He's also told me that not everyone hears it. He did. Who are you to question her judgement?"

It was a strange feeling: to be almost certain of the answer before the question even fully left her lips. When Viggo's hand came up to rub the bridge of his nose, the full weight of his age flashing for but an instance in the folds around his eyes as they drifted shut, that certainty became absolute.

"I'm merely one among many who failed to answer."

The conversation came to a much needed lull as Blake left the older servant alone with his thoughts for a while, as her own required tending to just as much. For her own part, the lack of surprise for such unlikely coincidence vexed her something fierce. Yet as she reflected back upon all the bizarre occurrences that transpired just this morning, she couldn't help but wonder if any of them could truly be called coincidental. Viggo's opening words about anticipating Erin's reaction earlier began to make an unsettling amount of sense.

"We all received the vision on the same night," the man spoke up, and she listened on without interruption. "In fact, if I still remember my timezones right, I would have received mine a couple hours earlier than Darius. For my part I was too awestruck for a coherent answer. When I awoke my first thought was to submit myself to the appropriate rites immediately."

He swallowed.

"My second… was of my family. Of my two kids and the yet unborn third. When the news came at the end of the day that Greystone's folly, who had endured for years that which killed all others before him in months, woke from his madness and immediately swore fealty to our Lady, I nearly collapsed from relief. I suppose you're right: when confronted with the same choice, he acted without hesitation while I tarried. That alone is quite telling of who is and isn't fit for the role."

"It was never a choice for him," Blake shook her head.

"Maybe so, but that would mean that Darius Silva's unprecedented survival and miraculous restoration was the result of our Lady hedging Her bets on our entire Order. It is not a pleasant thing to ponder… if not unexpected."

It wasn't difficult to see that this matter ate at Viggo relentlessly. One's aura could conceal a great many things about age, but the slouch of his back as he slumped in his chair and the harsh contours of his face, only accented by the loose strands of jet-black hair reaching down to his shoulders, suggested he had to be pushing at least half again as many years as his initial late-thirties appearance suggested.

Blake could even sympathize with his plight, if for - probably - entirely different reasons. The idea of her friend being kept on the edge of sanity - nay, firmly beyond it, if the memory was anything to go by - only to be made an offer he couldn't refuse years down the line by something with that kind of power had her entire body trembling from a mixture of deep trepidation and seething outrage.

But then, of course, exactly what was the alternative?

No, she told herself, purging the unbidden thoughts from her mind. If she couldn't peek beyond the curtain for answers herself, she could at least trust Darius' judgement, who seemed wholly convinced of her benevolence.

"If I might," she addressed the servant, who seemed up until this point completely subsumed by his own thoughts. His eyes snapping to her with unflinching focus was the only response. "I told Darius yesterday not to blame himself on my behalf. I… suspect you could use this advice as well. Surely… she… wouldn't blame you for not foreseeing this and taking up the mantle yourself?"

That actually earned her a reserved laugh from Viggo.

"Of course She wouldn't. After our souls pass once again into Her grasp, all earthly transgressions are washed clean like the mud they are in Her sight. For as long as we remain upon this earth, however… it will delight in reminding us of them at every opportunity. Yesterday, you paid for mine with your innocence and something like a hundred misguided men paid with their lives. As to what tomorrow brings..."

He shuddered.

"I fear that even She might not know."

Blake had to stifle a chuckle of her own at the mention of her supposed innocence, but left it without further comment.

"What transgression? Recognizing you weren't up for the job? Honestly, it's a miracle anyone ever agreed to it. From the sound of it, only the most desperate or the most power thirsty could possibly be attracted to it. Neither sound like optimal picks."

"And now I believe you fully understand the nature of the concern that has spread Order-wide," a rueful grin spread across the man's face. "And why it's all the more imperative why those like me must step up instead. But if it's any consolation, your line of thinking is far from uncommon. About a century ago you would have met plenty of like-minded individuals in the ranks of the Church."

"A… century?"

"Indeed." Just like that, the grin was gone, replaced instead by an expression that could only be described as grim. "A little more than a hundred years ago, our brothers received the same visions we did three years ago: the Light itself requesting their service. None stepped up."

'It is not a pleasant thing to ponder… if not unexpected.'

Blake's mind raced, processing new information at maximum capacity. Something didn't line up.

"The Church has suffered terrible losses in the Great War. From the internal persecution in Atlas after it decried Silva's takeover of Mantle as anathema against the monarchs' divine rule, to the wartime losses from their Crusade. You're telling me they did it all of their own accord?"

"That's just the thing. The war didn't happen for almost thirty years," Viggo nodded emphatically. He held up the book Blake picked out in the library. "Our brothers and sisters heard the call in a golden age of enlightenment and scientific progress. Newest political texts railed against the monarchies as decrepit and antiquated forms of government. Why, many holders of such views have been vindicated within their lifetime: where Mantle struggled to expand their territory further north, an entire country was springing up before our very eyes, its foundation at the very forefront of technological progress made possible by the pre-eminent political visionary of the century!"

Is he talking about?..

"Fifteen years later, that same visionary marched through the doors of Mantle's royal palace, blown from the hinges by a revolutionary mob chanting his name, and executed the ruling family with his own two hands. And in ten more years there was war. In the time it took the other Kingdoms to shake off the shock and prepare for an invasion, Sirius Silva managed to turn the new United Republic of Atlas into a war machine that would almost assuredly grind them into dust."

"Except it didn't."

"It was much closer than official records would like you to believe," the servant shrugged. "In fact, if it weren't for the Church's almost suicidal fervor, as many of them interpreted the unfolding events as direct punishment for their indecision, modern history may have been very different."

"And what has the Order done this whole time?!" Blake asked hurriedly, almost devouring the book that rested once more upon the table with her eyes. It wasn't that her trust in respect to Viggo had suddenly run dry, but almost everything he said clashed with the history of the conflict as she, and most of the world, knew it, both in framing and event-wise.

Viggo, for his part, considered his answer for some time, lips pursed, before replying.

"Had an Avatar decided to support or oppose Silva's reign, we would have followed without question, just as the Church will follow Darius today. As it was…" A grimace distorted his features. "Where our brothers fought against an usurper who had upturned centuries of tradition practically overnight, we saw them lashing out thoughtlessly in defence of antiquated and at times downright toxic social elements purely because they thought, blinded by their guilt, that this was what they should have done decades ago. Not to mention that Silva's reforms and his strife with the Church in Atlas itself left a slew of voids ready to be filled. To this day our Atlesian wing reaps the benefits of a century-old conflict."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Certainly, we couldn't take up arms against our own kin… but what we did was, frankly, not much better. By maintaining neutrality we have practically assured that the only way this conflict ended was by force of arms and a great deal of bloodshed. I would be lying if I said there still wasn't some lingering resentment from both sides."

Blake sat in silence for an indeterminate amount of time, simply trying to wrap her brain around a staggering mass of new knowledge. Yet as pieces fell into place, as chains of events were broken down into individual links and then reconstructed once more, patterns emerged that Blake couldn't describe as anything other than astronomically improbable coincidences or the result of the celestial architects' incredibly twisted sense of humor.

She couldn't say she liked either option.

"I'm… sorry, for springing all this on you," she heard Viggo say. She raised her head just in time to see him lift himself out of his chair, once more standing up to his full height. "I wish the time or the place had been better."

She rose in turn.

"No need," she refuted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "It took me an entire semester to get Darius to say the first word about you. I suspect this much would've taken years."

As if.

"For what it's worth, you have my sympathies. I… can't blame you for being wary."

"Knowing this, do you still wish to remain a part of this?" he asked, searching her eyes for the first hint of hesitation. He would find none. "I am sworn to see it through, to live with the consequences of my actions and, if must be, die by them. You are not."

"You're wrong on that part," Blake shook her head. "I swore no oath, sure. But we made a promise to one another yesterday. I just didn't know how much more he needed it than I. I intend to keep my part of it."

"I fear you might be disappointed terribly."

"No. You, and apparently everyone in the Order, seems to be counting on it. What if you're wrong about him?"

For a full ten seconds, Viggo didn't reply. When he did, a full-body shudder ran through him in a wholly uncharacteristic manner.

"Then there may not be another Avatar."