[[Day 19 of Month -4 :: Tethel ]]<br/><br/>Trembling pale hands lifted the helmet that completed his ensemble, slowly raising it to his head.  It hadn’t even passed his chest before the hunk of metal slipped from his fingers.  There was an ugly crash as it slammed onto the dresser and slid off, bouncing once on the carpeted floor before rolling to a halt.  Bloodshot black eyes glanced over at the offending piece of armor, lips pressed thin with suppressed emotion.<br/><br/>Slowly, Verlassen took one step in the direction of the helmet, then another.  He gingerly bent down but then paused midway, the pain from his movements too strong to overcome.  Hands dreamt of clenching themselves in fury but they hurt too much to follow through on such a pointless fit of pique.  Shallow breaths through his nose helped him endure the pain before he could continue moving.  His gauntlet covered hands finally wrapped themselves around his helmet and he laboriously lifted himself back into an upright position.  Resuming his position in front of the mirror, the Knight King of Tethel rested his helmet there once more.<br/><br/>Pale white skin, midnight black hair, and his infamous beauty mark all stared back at him.  Only the tiny beads of sweat at the sides of his face betrayed his discomfort.  He was the Knight King of Tethel.  He was Verlassen.  He was the only Pure/demon hybrid known to exist.  He swallowed harshly.  Then how did his<span style="font-style: italic">dear sweet wife</span>still manage to be better than him?!  His fist slammed into the mirror, shattering it.  He was a fucking Sin-infected Pure and somehow Centienne had still…<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Fingernails dug harshly into his cheeks, the dainty hand forcing his head up with surprising force.  Cold blue eyes stared down at his battered form impassively.  “What happened that night?”  She demanded without an ounce of haste, as if she had all the time in the world to get her answers from him.  She probably did; the Queen of Tethel could easily rearrange her schedule on a whim and there were none to contradict her.  Verlassen said nothing in response, hateful eyes staring back at her.  His arms and feet were bound; he could do nothing in response.  His defiance didn’t even elicit a flicker of anger from the blue-haired woman.  Electricity flowed from her hand into the tortured man, sending him into another fit of screaming.  Sooner or later, the easy way or the hard way, she’d find out what exactly had happened on the fifteen of last month.</span><br/><br/>“Darling!” A cheerful voice called through the door like the scratching of nails on chalkboards.  “Hurry up! We need to head out soon!”  There was a hum as his<span style="font-style: italic">loving wife</span>walked past his room, no doubt going to the living room to wait for him.  The welts on his back flared at a reminder of the last time he’d tested Centienne’s patience.  She was keeping him on a shorter and shorter leash recently.  He lifted his helmet and slammed it into place, forcing sore fingers to lock it into place.  Who was he kidding?  He’d always just been a slave, just to different masters.<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~</div><br/>[[Day 20 of Month -4, Morning :: Caletta]]<br/><br/>“The challenges before us today are numerous and complex.  But I am convinced that, as long as our bonds between each other, our fellow humans, and the Divine Light remain strong, we can face them together, and we can overcome them.  May the Divine Light guide us and keep us safe.”<br/><br/>“May the Divine Light guide us and keep us safe.”  The congregation murmured back, marking the end of the morning worship.  There was a moment of silence before Advocate Selenity stepped off the podium and normal, post-worship chatter filled the room: neighbors called out to each other, children stretched and made demands for lunch.  A brown-haired stranger stayed sitting, eyes closed as she faced the front of the Church.  The noontime sunlight warmed her face and she tried to savor the tranquility for a moment longer.  The sensation of something bumping into her knee ended such an attempt and Lethe opened her eyes, turning her head to look at who had run into her.<br/><br/>A small brown-haired boy was coughing, the fits wracking his entire frame.  When he finally paused, teary green eyes peeked up at her.  “Sor-Sor-“ he had to pause to cough again, “Sorry lady.”<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">“It’s fine.”</span>Lethe replied with a kind smile, sweeping a brown lock out of her face.<span style="color: silver">“Are you okay?”</span>The boy nodded enthusiastically but paused as another coughing fit shook his body.<span style="color: silver">“Would you like me to heal that for you?”</span>Lethe asked with a concerned frown.  She knew Valiar said it was important for children to naturally develop their immune systems, but she couldn’t stand the idea of the poor child in pain.  Round green eyes looked at her, “Could you?”<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">“Of course,”</span>she responded, gathering her holy magic to her hand.  She placed her glowing hand on the crown of his head, letting her magic filter through the boy.  It was simple enough to sooth the inflammation in his throat and chase away the sickness.  She even reinforced his bones and muscles before she withdrew her hand.  The boy was smiling pleasantly at her, seemingly drowsy after his healing.<br/><br/>“Thank you, Lady Cleric!”  A feminine voice exclaimed in relief from behind her.  “Tommy’s been coughing like that for weeks now.”  The mother reached a hand out to her son, smoothing down his hair.  The boy seemed to wake up from the sensation.<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">“Has anyone else?”</span>Lethe wondered as she got to her feet.  Cricket had mentioned it was still hard to get cough drops though he’d been able to locate a few here and there.  “No, thankfully not on Gless.”  The other woman replied even as Tommy grinned at them, chirped his thanks, and then ran off.  “Excuse me, lady cleric.  Again, thank you so much for your aid.”  With a bemused look, Tommy’s mother went hurrying after him, barely catching him before he jumped onto one of the pews.<br/><br/><span style="color: silver">“Of course, may the Divine Light guide you and keep you safe.”</span>The disguised Seraph murmured after the retreating woman and son.  With a smile to herself, Lethe slipped out of the emptying Church.  What better way to start the morning than with a sermon and a good deed?<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~</div><br/>[[Day 20 of Month -4, Day :: The Grand Cathedral]]<br/><br/><blockquote class="uncited"><div>I’ve scanned the two men you sent to me. Absolutely <span style="text-decoration: underline">nothing</span> was wrong with them.</div></blockquote><br/>Leon frowned down at the note in his hand.  Even the clear displeasure from one of his idols was unable to dismay him.  So even Lady Cora hadn’t noticed anything unusual about those two men.  But he could have sworn there had been something amiss.  He<span style="text-decoration: underline">knew</span>he had sensed something sinister lingering around them.  Not too long ago, he would have just assumed he’d messed up.  He would have just written his premonition off as a passing fancy.  Of course Lady Cora knew better than him.<br/><br/>But did she really?  Hazel eyes swept over the courtyard, looking at the numerous Scribes, Advocates, and Knights walking around.  He was in the middle of the Grand Cathedral and there was still something that left him unsettled.  He couldn’t pinpoint it to any one source.  It didn’t have the same allure that had blanketed Luciano.  But something was undoubtedly there.  His every sense was telling him that<span style="font-style: italic">something</span>was off.  He just wasn’t sure what.<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~</div><br/>“High! Middle! Low! High! Middle! Keep those shields up!”<br/><br/>Dietrich struggled to follow the instructions, forcing his aching arm to lift his shield as his opponent’s sword smacked down onto the slab of wood and metal.  While his brain remembered these exercises, it was clear his body didn’t.  Ten years of peace had dulled his reflexes and Leona was trying her best to hammer the muscle memory back into their sore bodies.<br/><br/>“Widen your stance.”  “Loosen your arm.”  A yelp as a pale hand yanked down on the shield, setting it straight once more.  A squinty eyed, silver-haired Knight stalked through the ranks of training veterans.  A jagged blade tapped at any errors she found, forcing limbs into the proper alignments.  Clearly Leona and Diana hadn’t spent these past ten years idly; the two were some of the few who seemed in as good condition now as they had been during the First War, probably why Master Jung has requested their assistance in helping the other, less practiced veterans.<br/><br/>A sharp blade touched against his leg and then pulled it out, making his foot inch out.  His center of gravity dropped and he found, suddenly, his legs weren’t complaining as loudly as they had been.  “Keep your center of mass down.”  The displeased voice hissed, its low tone all the more audible due to the shouting and grunting backdrop.  Without even a further glance, the silver-haired woman walked past him onto her next victim.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Sccaaarrrryyyyyy!!</span>Brown eyes glanced at the stalking Diana with a touch of panic.  He’d rather fight a Sinner than her!  A thump on his shield reminded him of practice and he looked back at his opponent to see a similar smile of near terror.  “She’s scary, huh?”  His opponent muttered with a darting of his eyes towards the silver-haired Knight.  Dietrich could only nod in response as Leona shouted out again: “Low! High! Low!”<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~</div><br/>[[Day 20 of Month -4, Afternoon :: Districts Eight and Nine, Lindela ]]<br/><br/>“How’s Roland been? Still sick?”<br/><br/>Adair nodded in response, eyes on the streets below them.  Rooftops were the purview of the Pristine Knights and it made travel all the easier to not have to fight with Lindela’s crowds.  Even with the unrest in Palaugrim, the markets were business as usual.  “He keeps claiming he’s not sick but he’s been coughing a lot.”  The younger man elaborated, satisfied there was nothing amiss below.<br/><br/>Valiar looked up from his own survey of the streets.  “Want me to take a look at him?”  He lifted a hand in greeting at a passing squad but didn’t stop the other group.  He and Adair had been patrolling these districts the past few days at Lethe’s request.  It was pretty boring work, to be honest, but he enjoyed the extra time with his family.  He didn’t doubt that their families had been a large reason he and Adair had been set on patrol duty when Deimos, Seraphim or Cricket would have been better suited for such work.<br/><br/>A wry chuckle brought the black-haired Knight’s attention back to the conversation at hand.  “I don’t think he’d let you.  He’s evaded all of brother’s schemes so far.”  Valiar laughed as well; he didn’t doubt the blond-haired advocate had come up with some ridiculous ideas.  He’d heard enough crazy stories to know the world had dodged an arrow when Grisia had happily decided to retire and dote on his younger brother.<br/><br/>“Well tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.  It’s really no problem for me.”<br/><br/>“Thanks.”  The two fell into an amicable silence.  They’d already caught up on each others’ families the first day and any other more relevant topics they might want to discuss weren’t really appropriate for the rooftops.  Valiar scanned the streets around him, making sure to check Adair’s side as well.  The younger man had an intense look on his face; he was no doubt thinking about Vice Captainly stuff too complicated for Valiar’s simple brain.  The cleric didn’t envy Adair the job.  It was simple enough for him to keep an eye on Adair’s side of the street as well, though truthfully he doubted he’d spot anything.  There was a higher chance one of them would feel the Reaper’s presence than happen to see a towering, caped figure that somehow hadn’t scared off all the people around it.<br/><br/>Up ahead, he caught sight of a familiar purple hairdo.  Cricket was out snooping again, it seemed.  A flare of his aura had both Adair and Cricket turning towards him and he waved at the latter as they jumped past.  “I wonder how he’s doing.”  Valiar mused aloud.<br/><br/>“Good I believe,” came the surprising response.  “He seemed fine last night.”<br/><br/>“Still coming by your house to practice?”<br/><br/>“Every other night.”  The purple-haired Knight probably would have come more often by Grisia had wanted more time with his younger brother while Adair was still in town.  The two had come to a compromise of every other day.  It was, as Adair had pointed out, in his better interest to have competent Knights around him.<br/><br/>“How--”  The rest of Valiar’s words were lost at the sudden sensation of Sin.  No words were needed as both turned towards the outskirts of District Nine.  Each jump suddenly took them further as<span style="font-style: italic">Arms x Vernier</span>took effect.  It took less than a minute for them to reach the origin of Sin, helpfully accentuated by what sounded like two children screaming.<br/><br/>The instinctive panic Valiar felt at the shouts, ingrained into him the moment he first held Annabelle, suddenly dulled away.  He wouldn’t say he became apathetic, but the underlying worry vanished and let him focus more clearly on the situation at hand.  Two children were huddled against a wall, no longer yelling but still clearly terrified.  A Reaper loomed over them with one bony hand outstretched.<br/><br/>A burst of speed and then a moment of weightlessness: he hit the ground running and snatched at the two children, pulling them out of harm’s way.  A clang of metal on bone told him the Reaper would be occupied as Adair entered the fray.<br/><br/>“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”  Valiar tried to soothe the children--two little boys, he now noticed--as he moved away from the fight.  He needed to get back soon but first he wanted to make sure these two would be safe.  Hostages would derail the fight even faster than him being gone for a minute or two.  “You’re safe; uncle’s got you.”  Whatever calming aura Adair was emitting had helped quiet them, making them easier to place on the rooftop.  “You two stay here by me, okay?  Uncle will keep you safe, but I need my hands”  He’d much rather they be somewhere hidden but he didn’t know the surroundings well enough.  If there was one Reaper here, who knew if there were others.  He turned to face the fight which was a good twenty meters away.  If the fight actually turned their way, it wouldn’t be nearly far enough but any further and he wouldn’t be able to support Adair.<br/><br/>His first spell created a basic barrier around them; his second was a detection spell to give him a bit of warning if anything actually came his way.  “Stay by me.”  He ordered again, feeling one of them wrap an arm around his leg.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Deus Corona! Deus Eques!</span>”<br/><br/>The first attack had clearly caught the Reaper off guard.  However, the Sin creature had quickly recovered.  The scythe clanged again Adair’s shield and Adair took the opportunity to strike at the Reaper’s unprotected side.  There was a screech of metal as the Reaper backtracked and dragged its scythe with it.  Knight and Sin creature stared at each other, both trying to determine what steps to take next.  The latter took the initiative by rushing for the former; it drew its scythe back.  Adair tightened his grip on his shield.  The strike would come on his unprotected side.  He could try to block it anyways but it’d put him at a disadvantage.  The past week of training with his brother asserted itself.  Instead of stepping back, his normal second reaction, he dove under the swipe, rolling back onto his feet in a cacophony of metal clanks.  He definitely needed to practice that move in armor in the future..  Feeling Valiar’s magic settle around him, Adair swung at the Reaper.  One arm fell off even as the Reaper screamed in pain.  The unexpected sound had Adair flinching back before he regained his resolve.  The Reaper was hunched over now, scythe forgotten in lieu of cradling the steaming cut.<br/><br/>There was a flash of uncertainty but Adair ignored it.  Reapers couldn’t be absolved.  The best thing he could do was--it was too late.  Carried with the force of Valiar’s enchantments and Adair’s momentum, Adair’s Judgement sliced through the Reaper’s neck.  The head went flying, falling to the ground in a wet thump, wraps peeling away to reveal a human face half covered in metal.<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>Valiar lifted a hand to place on Adair’s shoulder, paused, and then let it drop.  What was there to say?  Unconsciously, his eyes sought the place where the head had lain before he swivelled back.  Lights Above…Even from his distance, he’d seen the way Adair had suddenly tried to reverse his attack.  He’d been ready to jump forward--he didn’t know why Adair was suddenly withdrawing but he’d defend his squadmate--when the cloak had fallen apart to reveal.  He swallowed down his nausea.  That-- It had definitely been a Reaper.  It had also definitely been a human head.  He pulled a heavy hand down his face, the sensation a temporary distraction from his thoughts.  Lights Above..  The Reapers were humans?  No wonder Adair had tried to stop the attack at the last moment.<br/><br/>The worst part, he thought clinically, wasn’t the knowledge that the Reapers were human.  Oh, that was undoubtedly horrifying, but compared to some of the monsters from the First War?  He felt his heart sink; the worst part was he wasn’t<span style="font-style: italic">that</span>appalled.  During the First War, he’d lost that instinctive denial of such atrocities.  Things had been that bad.  And if this was any indication--he turned a sad look on the still Adair--soon this generation of Knights would also lose that immediate repudiation.<br/><br/>“I’ll go tell Captain.”  He offered instead, “You head home.”  To his surprise though, Adair finally reacted.  When the younger man turned around, his face was resolute.  “No, I’ll tell Captain.  She…” Green eyes also instinctively glanced at where the Reaper had lain, “She’ll need to know we’ve slain the Reaper.”<br/><br/>She’d also need to be told the truth of the Reapers.  Valiar sighed at the thought of her inevitable reaction.  Nothing went easy for his poor Captain.  “We’ll tell her tomorrow.”  He made the executive decision, the authority in his voice startling a sidewards look from Adair.  “Nothing will change between telling her now and tomorrow except she’ll get a better night of rest today.”  His reasoning earned a slow nod from his squadmate.  Valiar made a note to himself to mention the incident to one of Adair’s brothers.  “Tomorrow morning, half past ten?”  The next nod almost seemed normal.  “Let’s go.”<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~</div><br/>[[Day 20 of Month -4, Early Evening :: Gless ]]<br/><br/>“Woah… you look terrible.”  Jessiah commented impolitely as a battered Dietrich entered the Joaquim household.  The brown-haired veteran tried to smile in response but it looked too pained to contain any mirth.  “I’m afraid ten years of inactivity has not prepared me well for Knighthood.”  Dietrich quipped in response, gratefully sinking into the chair Joaquim indicated him towards.<br/><br/>“You looked like you were done well,” Joaquim responded encouragingly, taking a seat of his own.  “Have you finished your homework?” He directed the question toward his son who grinned back.  “Mama called me down for dinner already.”  Which meant he didn’t have to work on his homework until dinner finished, even though they weren’t at the table yet.<br/><br/>“Where is Bianca anyways?”  Dietrich looked around curiously, missing the amused look Joaquim and Jessiah shared.<br/><br/>“Mama’s just finishing up dinner.”  The younger replied with the same grin as earlier.  “So what kind of training did you do today?”<br/><br/>The three chatted easily until a voice called out from the kitchen: “Dinner’s ready!”  A smiling Biana stuck her head in, cheeks a rosy red and her hair in disarray.  Dietrich startled in his seat, his entire body protesting the sudden jump.  He hadn’t even heard anyone back there!  There was a roar of laughter from his side and he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.  What kind of Knight was he if he couldn’t even hear a civilian woman making dinner?<br/><br/>“Go take a seat! I’ll bring the food out!”<br/><br/>“Go help your mom.”<br/><br/>The two men relocated to the dining room table, Bianca and Jessiah soon joining them when the table had been set.  Wide brown eyes looked over the dinner set in front: an amazing looking lasagna, salad, and a crusty looking garlic bread.  Surprisingly, it looked like it had come straight out of the oven.  “Bianca, you’re such a talented cook!”  Dietrich praised, his earnest expression faltering at the sudden snorts from around him.<br/><br/>“Why<span style="font-style: italic">thank you</span>Dietrich,” The matron of the household replied with a sweet glare at her husband and son, “I’m so glad you think that!”<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~</div><br/>[[Day 20 of Month -4, Night :: The Grand Cathedral ]]<br/><br/>Who was an<span style="font-style: italic">awesome</span>scribe? Oh yeah. Omi!  Said Scribe looked at the thirteen stacks arrayed in front of him with a victorious smirk.  All of them were frayed and had clearly seen better days, no doubt a result of having been stuck in those cardboard boxes for who knew how long.  If anything, it was a miracle that they weren’t in a worse state.  Those preservation seals had run out of power years ago but their effects had somehow lingered.  Seal makers before the Rising must have been much more skilled than the current ones!  Before he could contemplate the differences further, Omi shook his head and forced himself to focus on the papers in front of him.<br/><br/>Each represented all the information he’d been able to dig up on each member of squad seven plus as many mission reports as had been available as he compiled all the other data.<br/><br/>Yentl Travere<br/>Andromach Sommer<br/>Abel D’Arques<br/>Nygel D’Arques<br/>Daria Lindquist<br/>Yves Linser<br/>Fenix Zegher<br/>Estella Quinn<br/>Ingram Mattson<br/>Nike Nguyen<br/>Guilford Rosenwulf<br/>Lethe Urilla<br/><br/>He’d never known—really, never even<span style="font-style: italic">thought</span>—about the fact there had been other members of Squad Seven: nine of them, in fact.  All he’d ever known was Masters Lethe and Guilford had been in the same squad under the Lightbringer Abel d’Arques.  But to think there had been nine other stories, all forgotten now.<br/><br/>In a moment of surprising tenderness, he caressed the closest stack of papers.  This was the most rewarding part of being a Scribe; this was why he’d chosen this path.  They wouldn’t be forgotten anymore.  He’d read their facts and stitch together their lives.  At least one person would know their stories.<br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~</div><br/>[[Day 21 of Month -4, Early Morning :: Gless ]]<br/><br/>There was still a bite of cold in the morning air but YunQiao ignored it.  His attention was on the two portraits he stood in front of.  Two familiar pairs of blue eyes looked out at him, both exuding the dignity and authority expected of heirs of the Cao family.  Under their gazes, painted though they were, he felt himself straightening further.  His fingers tightened on the sticks of incense, the thin wood pressing against the pads of his fingers.<br/><br/>GangYong and YunHe had been the idols of his childhood.  His father had been a taciturn man, Knight Captain of the town’s forces.  YunHe had been a prodigy with the sword, easily the top of his Pristine Knight class despite graduating early.  “As expected of the Cao family!” the neighbors would exclaim in pride whenever another of YunHe’s or GangYong’s accomplishments reached their ears.  YunQiao had always puffed up in pride at such words.  His father and brother were surely the best!  Nothing could beat them!<br/><br/>But some things could.  Pure Sinners could.  They had only been expecting a nest of Sinners, not a Pure Sinner as well.<br/><br/>“Your father and brother were heroes.  They stayed so we could escape.”  One Knight had shame facedly explained to YunQiao, tears falling from his eyes.  It was the first time YunQiao had seen a grown man cry.  Father and brother had never cried; they’d always been composed, dignified.  Surely this.. not man, for men didn’t cry, was lying.  How could his brother and father be dead?<br/><br/>It took all the strength in his eight year old self not to cry when they finally brought his brother’s and father’s corpses home.  He was a man now.  He was the heir of the Cao family.  He had to take care of mother.<br/><br/>YunQiao bowed his head at the memory of the still bodies.  Even now, sixteen years later, it was hard to remember the sight.  However, when he looked up once more, his eyes were still dry.  He stepped forward, toes curling at the sudden movement after so much stillness, and gently inserted the four sticks of incense into the pot.  The smoke curled lazily past the portraits of his father and his brother, immortalized in ink only a year before their deaths.<br/><br/>Were they proud of him now?  Had he done justice to their memories?  He clapped his hands together, the sudden sound breaking the tranquility of the morning, and bowed towards the two portraits.  He would continue upholding the Cao name in their steads.