Apogee
Kian has always been taught that being a Magical is a wretched fate, though some would argue the creatures have no options presented in the matter of their birth. Being a witch is despicable, since it's a choice made by free will. Being both at the same time is as revolting as it can be. There should be little wonder then, that the lowly being favors treason of the one she serves, rather than standing her ground and dying for what she misguidedly believes in, like a few of her compatriots before her had the grace to do. Kian orders the men lent to him to close the inn and take the traitorous innkeeper to the Friar's Keep, while the witch remains with him, they're not leaving just yet. He does not fail to notice a ghost of alarm flashing over the innkeeper's face when she sees them while she's being led out. It's a good omen for him.
The witch has been seated at a table, he doesn't take a seat himself, instead he chooses to loom over her while issuing his last warning, "do not even dream of breaking your word, witch", he growls, "I have sworn not to tell anyone of my destination as long as you remain faithful to your own promise, but I am leaving the information behind", he shows her the envelope in which he has sealed the letter. "My people will open this unless I return to them in time. If they do, they will know where I've gone, and according to the instructions I'm leaving them, they will come after me, with an army. So pray I return, if you want to save your friends and your skin".
Her eyes are wide yet show no emotion, but she speaks in a dead voice, "What if you fail? What if you find the Scorpion but… you are bested? Then your word will be broken even as I keep mine".
"It will not happen," he says calmly, "he won't best me. A Goddessless daemon won't best the Apostle."
Many hours later he sits in a cabin of a barge that slowly but surely smuggles him into the rebel stronghold. He wears a weathered tunic and armor that's ill suited for him, picked from an armorer in Marcuria, instead of his own. But it will do its job, the most important thing - his sword - is with him.
The stronghold is a strange place. It's a settlement built upon the dark waters of an enormous swamp, there are strange creatures in the marshes. Strange and dangerous looking, he can only assume that the rebels had a good sense to use magic to protect their feeble wooden bridges. A strange thought for him to have, but he seems to be starting to get used to such. The bridges in question are narrow, winding and apparently the only way to move around this… city. The only way for him, at least. He saw a boat glide silently through the murky surface a minute ago, with two passengers rowing. He walks to the meeting place, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. He glances around covertly, examining the homes the rebels have built for themselves. They are wooden huts, really, not built to any standard aside from eccentricity. Planks show many colors and textures, some have traces of paint, non uniform sizes, a few homes have circular portholes for windows. Their roofs are all kinds and shapes - domes, flat, cones, whatever the materials and the builder's skills have allowed. A few have put flower pots here and there, or hung them from the windows, attempting to make the place look homely.
He finds a large boat docked at a pier, laden with cargo. A few men and women are unloading boxes and barrels, a process conducted by a one armed, one legged, one eyed man. For someone of his discrepancies he's quite impressive, does not shy away from grabbing some of the larger boxes and his single eye misses nothing. He scolds a young lad fiercely when the latter almost drops his small barrel in the water. "Do you have wooden sticks for arms?" He roars, "we didn't risk our necks and drag all this all the way from Marcuria to dump it in the swamp!" The boy complains about a sore arm, but the man has no wish to hear it. "A sore arm!? I don't have my bloody arm! If you can't make yourself useful, try not to be a hindrance at least! That's medicine there! Do you think your father will thank you for getting rid of it after people put their lives on the line to bring it here for him?" Kian is very strongly reminded of Garmon Kourmas, a soft smile coming to his lips unbidden. The boy's posture says he would rather be anywhere but here as his scolding continues, but under the one armed man's unforgiving supervision, unloading and distribution of the goods becomes a well organized, efficient affair. Others come to help them, it cheers them up when they survey the goods that are brought to them. They exchange jokes and their hearty laughter feels like glimmers of sun through gaps between dark clouds on a gloomy day. This place is generally filled with gloom. It's hard for him to imagine living here, spending years. But what else can people do when they are left with no choice?
He walks on, away from the boat and to where the witch called Na'ane must await if she's true to her word. Few people pay him any attention. Someone cheerfully informs him of the supplies and a feast they're planning that night. This is a good sign, he thinks, if everyone is gathered at the feast, he should have all the privacy he needs and an ample amount of time to leave the city before anyone can notice their leader's absence. Thanks to the swamp they might never even find his body.
The witch is there and she claims the Scorpion awaits on the nearby pier, alone, as was their agreement. He orders her out of his sight and she scurries away. From afar he can see a dark figure ascending the pier. A lean shape, small in stature. This is it. The time he must fulfill his mission, the time he must cast aside whatever misgivings he's had about the whole affair and do what his empresses ordered him to do. He follows, his steps are slow and silent. What will happen to these people once they lose him? Will the local authorities finally rest their minds and perhaps ease their grip on this land, or will they tighten it, grown bolder when they no longer need to fear him? But the Goddess has led him to this place, him, when so many of his brethren have failed. He cannot doubt that She's been guiding him all along, that there's a reason he's here. One hand on the hilt of his sword, he steps unto the pier, and as he approaches the person waiting for him, he starts to notice the unexpected feminine quality of... her.
If Kian thought he was prepared for this moment, he knows he has never been more wrong. It's the Strange Woman from Marcuria standing on that pier. Goddess help me, she really is a rebel! He almost laughs, stepping closer, all the while wondering what the Goddess is trying to tell him by bringing her to him in such time. This is not a coincidence, this must be a sign. She turns and his heart starts racing.
"Who are…" she starts, then recognizes him, "You? I remember you. From Marcuria. But you're…" and as she remembers, her eyes widen in alarm, "You're the Azadi. What are you doing here? Have you been... Shit!" she curses, "You followed me here!"
Kian tries to reassure her, but it is not easy. She demands to know his intentions, his reason for being here, or whether or not he has brought soldiers. He can only try and put her fears to rest, fears for the defenseless civilians living in this place, the matter of her own safety quite forgotten. He explains who exactly he is, what he is, that he is alone and why he has come and then he finds he cannot stop, he pours his heart out to her as if he has been longing to do it his entire life. "I have never before doubted the righteousness of my mission", he says earnestly, "The Goddess is the one true deity, and we must bring her light to the darkest places. And yet... I have seen and heard many things in my brief time here in the Northlands. I have seen with my own eyes how ignorance and fear are leading some of my people astray, how arrogance and distrust threaten to corrupt our mission. I have witnessed deeds - deeds of which you spoke so passionately when we first met - that have lifted a veil from my eyes. Does the Goddess, in her infinite and unquestionable wisdom, truly want us to commit these deeds on sovereign peoples, in these sovereign lands? When we last met, mistress... Your words awoke something inside of me… I have never questioned my mission, or my faith. To do so would be to question my entire existence. And still, now that we meet again, I'm reminded of the parting words of an old friend - words dismissed too quickly - and I find myself...torn." He stops, surprised how much he has talked, waiting for her verdict.
Familiar arrogance settles on her features, illuminated by torchlight, "Bravo. That's a very convincing speech, Apostle", had her sarcasm had a physical shape it would've gutted him clean, "you almost had me going there for a moment. But the fact is, you're an enemy assassin, you're in our city, and you didn't come here to talk to me."
So much for his attempt to paint Apostles as missionaries, "I am an assassin", he agrees, "and my mission is plain and indisputable. Only…" He does not know if he dares voice all he feels, he feels foolish for the honesty, but at this point it's too late. He has to make her understand. "I believe now that the Goddess has led me here for another reason. Led me to you. Why else would She have brought us together, first in Marcuria, and now here, if it wasn't to show me - show us - a different path?"
"Sorry", she says with a strangely bitter smile, "I don't believe in destiny or divine intervention. Not anymore." The last part catches his attention, but he cannot be distracted by that now. Perhaps later he can ask, if only he can convince her that he's not her enemy.
"I believe that some things are meant to happen. Call it destiny. Call it the will of the Goddess. Call it chance. But do not call it coincidence."
She remains cold, "So what now?" she asks, one hand on her hip, "You expect me to just let you walk out of here, to accept that you've seen the light?"
"No!" Kian rushes to respond, "yes…" he quickly amends it, What do I expect to come out of his, honestly? "I...don't know what to think anymore", he admits desperately, "I only wish to speak with you for a little while longer. To understand. To open my heart to a different truth. I believe the Goddess wishes to speak to me. To me, and not to those who would interpret her Word to suit their needs".
It does not impress her at all, it seems, "And what's your goddess telling you?" she asks, sounding irritated if anything.
"That my path, a path I have never even considered questioning until this moment, may be one that leads into shadows, and not into light."
"Look... If you came here to find enlightenment, Azadi, you've come to the wrong person."
Finally, he starts to get tired, tired of her impudence, this cold treatment she gives him as a reward for his heartfelt honesty. "The name is Kian, mistress", he corrects pointedly, "I cannot claim that I came here to find enlightenment. Quite the opposite. Yet now I'm starting to see that a great injustice may have been done to the peoples of the Northlands. If that is so, it's my duty to help undo the damage."
She's taken aback, "You're planning on turning against your own?" she asks in disbelief.
"I will never take up arms against those I have sworn to protect, but I intend to return to Sadir and inform the Six - our Empresses - about what goes on in the provinces."
"Why?"
This time her usual cynicism is gone, he can hear genuine curiosity and it spurs him, "Because it is not right", he admonishes, "it is not certainly the will of the Goddess, and it is a betrayal of everything I have been taught to believe in."
She shakes her head, frowning, "I still don't understand…" pause, "Kian."
Hearing his name from her lips feels like a blessing, as if the simple effort of her using it to address him were hard labor worth appreciation. "Faith, mistress", he responds, growing confident, "I feared I was losing it, but I was wrong. My faith is as strong as ever. It may, quite simply, have been...misplaced."
She takes a moment to take it all in, "I...I guess I owe you a name. I'm April" she finally says, more friendly than she has been to him since the moment they met, her name a gift more precious than she can know.
"April", he repeats it, it's unusual, but most things about her are, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance", he smiles at her, so relieved that he is finally understood.
"You shouldn't stay. If anyone sees you…" She trails off, possibly imagining what might happen.
"You will not tell them?"
"I don't have an easy time trusting anyone, Aza…" She stops herself short, amending, "Kian. But I'm beginning to believe that you're the real thing, an honorable man."
"I try to be", Kian responds humbly to a praise he feels unworthy of.
"But I still don't understand why you're here. And I don't understand why Na'ane told me that you're…" She stops abruptly, and both their faces snap to the sky as they hear a sound he knows too well. The attack signal, military cloudships are here, he sees one, then the other, a fleet arrives, ropes are thrown down and soldiers descend. He stands there horrorstruck, watching a nightmare unfold.
Vamon, closely followed by three more soldiers, steps onto the pier. "I knew you were weak, Apostle" he spits, "but I never imagined you would go so far as to betray your own people."
"Vamon? What in the name of the Goddess are you doing?" Kian demands, trying his best to keep panic out of his voice. Screams and shouts are heard from afar, steel slamming against steel, wood or flash and bones.
"Your job, Alvane", the commander retorts, "destroying the enemy. Or did you forget? That was why you were sent here."
"There are women and children in this city, Vamon. Civilians!" His plea comes off impotent even to his own ears, Vamon will never care about that and his subordinates will never think to question their orders.
"They're all equal in the eyes of the Goddess, are they not?" Vamon asks, venomous and proud, "Terrorists, wives of terrorists, children of terrorists... Sinners. Every one of them", his eyes slide to the woman standing at the edge, "As for this one…", he says, sizing her up, "Is this who you were sent to kill?"
"To… kill?", the hurt of betrayal in April's voice is so subtle, Kian might as well be imagining it, but he knows he isn't. He turns to face her once more.
"No." He tries to reassure her, "I was about to tell you. I did not know who you were. I came here to find the Scorpion, and found you in his place."
Contrary to what he expects, this does not serve to reassure her in the slightest. "Scorpion? That's..." her voice rises, "that's the name your people gave me after I put the fear of the Balance into them."
Kian is stunned, "You're...him?" he blurts out, staring as if he's seeing her for the first time. No, this cannot be. How could she possibly…?
"Your mouth is filled with venom, witch, even to the last", Vamon's hateful voice comes from behind. "You are truly beneath us. And you, Alvane…" hearing his name brings him out of stupor, he glances back as Vamon turns to his soldiers, "Arrest him."
The man steps forward, but stops when Kian's hand reaches for his sword hilt, "Lower your weapon, soldier", he warns, "I'm an Apostle."
"No more, Kian Alvane", Vamon informs him, "You have betrayed the Six, you have strayed from the Path, and you have forsaken the Mission. You have become soft, like a spoiled fruit. You actually empathize with these heathens and murderers. You, Apostle, have committed a mortal sin. You have lost your Faith."
Kian has heard it from his mentor once, that in order to best wound a man you must accuse him of what he has spent his life fighting against. His mentor had the right of it. Anger rises molten hot, he's unable to contain it, unable to stop himself from throwing it back in Vamon's face, "It is not I who have strayed from the Path!" he insists, "It is not I who have lost my Faith. What are we doing to these people? Why are we trespassing on their land? This is not the will of the Goddess!"
As expected, the commander is untouched, "So, now you question your Empresses too? Your hole grows deeper by the second, Apos... Alvane. Still, the Goddess is merciful, and so am I. I'll give you one more chance to prove your loyalty and save yourself from eternal damnation. Do what you came here to do. Kill this murderous witch. Kill the Scorpion."
Kian turns slowly to face April, who only now turns her face back to them, she'd been looking beyond, he realizes, looking at the massacre behind them. Her eyes are empty, cold. She is already dead. For one insane moment Kian thinks of trying to save her. Three foot soldiers, no match for an Apostle, and Vamon, who has suffered bitter defeat on his hands one too many times years ago. It's perfectly within his range of ability, far from impossible. And this is what makes it so painful for him, to know that he has the power to fulfill his heart's desire, but must not, not unless he wants to soil his hands with the blood of the trueborn. His faith and his oaths demand of him to let her go. Why, oh why did you have to admit who you were? I cannot do anything for you now.
"Just get it over with", April finally says. She's not afraid, she just sounds tired, so very tired.
His throat almost contracts, "I came here to face the Scorpion," he murmurs, "but I didn't know who the Scorpion was. I could never harm you."
But nor can he stop those who could and would. When the soldier stabs her, it hurts him, it hurts to hear her release a silent breath at the impact, not a cry of pain, not a single whimper. In a moment of terrible weakness he steps forward, his legs carrying him against his intentions, almost as if to catch her as she falls off the edge, but he does not. He hears her hit the water below. This was inevitable, he tries to tell himself.