[X] The Seed of Discipline
-[X] Refuse
-[X] The Dissolving Rite
-[X] Live in Comfort
-[X] Buy high-quality ashes on the condition that Hermes use them for the Healing Rite
---
To Refuse
It seemed so surreal, like watching reality rot into a nightmare.
Azriel's master, the Elder Priest, was making an offering. His death as a payment to create a magical key that'd open the forbidden Gate.
This shouldn't have been a difficult dilemma, certainly not so hard as to cause even a second's hesitation; a hypothetical scenario with an obvious solution. Grandfather's life wasn't -
obviously wasn't - worth entry into a Gate, even if that Gate had Boons without number. This shouldn't even count as calculus, it was so clear, so self-evident.
And yet.
And yet.
Azriel felt as though an invisible shoulder-devil were infecting the normally well-structured wheel of his mind, an infernal urge tinting each thought, greasing the wheel's rotation with slick blood. As if a shadow-beast had come out of its lair to declare its dark decision to the entire kingdom of his soul.
What mattered one life, when the calculus said the benefits outweighed anything else Hermes could provide?
Abstractly, it terrified him. How easy it seemed to accept the offer, when a human life should be sacrosanct, even one as bitter and sour as vinegar.
Azriel made the choice, then went through with it, before another thought could steal him away.
"No," said Azriel.
Then he stared at his master with the intensity of a beast chained in adamant, a muzzle preventing it from snarling and roaring. The word came out with such frigidity the sound of it was like the winter wind, but speaking it had felt as if he were spitting out a volcanic eruption. The finality of the statement resounded inside his skull as if bouncing around from wall to wall, more certain with each impact, even to himself. There was a comfort in stating it out loud, in affirming it physically; a sort of undeniability that made it even easier to accept on a spiritual level. There was no taking this back, not without lying to both himself and the world, and that meant he couldn't do that anymore.
He'd done it, somehow.
Azriel refused to fall to temptation, and now felt as everything tempting about the offer evanesced before him, each thought making it clearer and clearer as to how he'd made the correct call. The beast was silenced with one blow and fell back to its lair, whimpering, compelled to slumber.
As Hermes stared back, he coughed once, dry as tinder. There was nothing deeper to that cough, a simple reaction of biology, but it almost felt as if it'd magically inserted itself into the moment to rob it of some gravitas, to allow them to move on.
"...is that so?" Once more, Hermes coughed, this time with a ring of laughter within. "Good work. You passed the test."
"For fuck's sake, really? Don't bullshit me, master. This wasn't any kind of test. This was your sadistic gratification scheme," answered Azriel. The dark beast inside himself, he'd managed to restrain despite its brutal strength. This vitriol, he didn't have to bother with. "Well, guess what? Fuck you, and your dead family, and everything you stand for."
A statement as vulgar as that would've certainly earned Azriel a stern reprimand once. He didn't care, even if a scolding were indeed inbound. In some abstruse and highly abstract fashion, the old man lost what control he'd still had over the situation the moment Azriel refused the offer.
"I don't owe you anything, I don't owe you any tests of character, and this sure as shit wasn't one. This was your way of getting some kind of sick satisfaction before you died, either from watching me squirm or having it confirmed you were right. You wanted evidence that your life wasn't meaningless - that somehow the game was rigged against you." Azriel stepped closer, right into his master's personal space, facing the old man down - who stared at him with that same, frustratingly bland expression. "And maybe it is. Maybe there really was nothing you could've done. It still doesn't give you the right to do this, to dangle your life in front of me as some sick, perverse lure."
There was a second of silence, as if both sides were calibrating their stance.
With the curve of a smile appearing on his face, Hermes relaxed momentarily into his seat and let out a rasped chuckle.
"And? You resisted the offer, which I'll admit was admirable on your part. I don't know the reason, but it doesn't change one fact: you contemplated murdering me. Or assisting me with committing suicide, if you'd like to give the words a nice dress." Hermes stood from his chair and stared Azriel down. "Or, perhaps, am I wrong?"
Azriel couldn't answer that, even as Hermes assessed him with a cold eye.
The Elder waved it off after a moment. "It doesn't matter. Any Ascendant would consider it, even some who aren't." He coughed into a fist. "Regardless, I've demonstrated you are different from Ascendants in a twofold manner: your quirks aren't nearly as antisocial, and you possess a reserve of morality or willpower they don't. I can't say it does not matter, because the consideration was there, but I can say this: today won't be the only time you'll be put to the test, boy, and next time, the life on the line won't be your caretaker. I anticipate it'll most likely be a person with connections; someone's mother or father, daughter or son. Consider, where you draw the line."
"I will," said Azriel.
There was an instinct, vitriol-empowered, to angrily append some further insult to that. But Hermes hadn't become visibly mad even when Azriel insulted his family and something about that reaction made him seem untouchable, and further barbs worthless and pointlessly juvenile.
This wasn't something that words could solve.
"You're a cynical old bastard," said Azriel. "Is there anything you've ever done, that wasn't out of hatred or - or - because of pure damn selfishness?"
Hermes simply said, "I raised you."
They stared at each other for a moment longer. There was a static in the air, unspoken words that had the potential to emerge from the surface of nothingness at a moment's notice, hanging on both of their tongues. They could both feel that potential, but neither chose to realize it.
Hermes stared at him for a moment more, expression still irritatingly bland, then said, "You can leave now."
Azriel, after a second to process, to consider if there was anything else to state as he departed, left. He did so in silence.
A week and a half later, Hermes would enter his office.
There, resting on his desk, was a small decorative urn with a well-made mixture of ashes inside; he examined with the touch of a finger, kneading the granules between index and thumb, smearing them. This mixture, he'd recognize anywhere, as the prime fusion utilized to cast the Healing Rite as an anagathic spell.
There was a card attached.
Don't die until I show you.
- A
As Hermes sat, he closed an eye to meditate.
This was certainly a way for the youth to assert itself.
A shadow appeared inside his office without a single knock.
"You don't seem to be in a pleasant mood, old friend," said a voice as smooth as silk, each word flowing like rushing water, with an elegance so simplistically added in that it felt unearned to an almost vexatious degree. There was a hint of a Russian accent, as faint as smoke from a candle. "Ashes? Oh, these are quite nice."
Hermes opened an eye and saw him, as young as when they'd met.
A man stood across the desk from him, bald and gaunt, with dark circles under the eyes as if his skin and flesh were a slim shadow over the grinning skull underneath. He came here attired in a suit, one so expensive that Hermes couldn't have afforded it after a lifetime of labor.
Hermes greeted him lukewarmly, "Nicholas."
He didn't say anything else, nor offer the man tea. Hopefully this visit would be short, but even if it weren't, the man wasn't one to partake in such 'indulgences.'
"Hermes." The man was barely paying attention, eyes on a portrait of the previous Elder Priest who'd operated the House. "I heard your boy's going to Armor soon."
"Mhm, he's diligent like that," said Hermes, without committing or revealing anything substantial; Nicholas seemed to catch onto the caginess, if his sudden grin was any indication. Hermes pivoted around. "I heard your girl was bisected by a sawblade."
Nicholas tutted and brushed a finger across a bottle on display, as if checking it for dust. "Children and their silly experiments. What can you do? Oh, well, a month in the resurrection ward ought to do her some good. All the corpses there should remind her the price of inefficiency."
"Good to hear your parenting skills have improved since we last met," Hermes said, concealing disdain.
"Your sarcasm is as delightful as ever," said Nicholas, with what seemed like genuine joy. He slipped into the chair opposite of Hermes, gently pushed the gifted urn aside, and steepled his fingers with a grin. "I have an offer, old pal."
"You should've knocked then, made a formal visit. Or could this be something else?"
"I heard Agent Shen's around, that funny old pervert," said Nicholas, grin only broadening. "I'd hate to shake up the hornet's nest without dispelling the doubts first, that I am here in good faith, as an agent of another nation and therefore entering your Woman's Land with diplomatic immunity. Her Greatness astounds, but also, it tends to cut down my ilk without asking questions - ever. So you'll have to be the one to communicate with Shen on my behalf. You are in a privileged position, my good man. By dint of knowing me from way back when, you get to play middleman between ourselves and your Kingdom! I envy you
sooo much!" Nicholas chuckled, very much not in good faith.
"Yes, I am aware all Ascendants are insane," said Hermes, with the same uninterested blandness as someone describing the weather outside. He decided to focus on the matter of import. "What do you want from van der Velde?"
"Your Kingdom's action upset the status quo," said Nicholas, matter-of-factly. Then, with a slightly jovial flair, started to paint an image: "Until recently, No Man's Land was a beautful cornucopia of nothing but constant, exploitable convenience. You, me and my lord, the devils in the east, the smugglers, even the mob - we all used this place as a perfect, zen estuary of harmonious symbiosis and mutual benefit. Then your Kingdom decided to spit on that, moving in with its security agents. Long story short, I'd like Shen to ease off on his duties in No Man's Land. As you know, he's already taken down the Machxile Cartel. Worse, he's even made moves against the Empire's insiders."
Nicholas helped himself to a candy from the candy bowl, uwrapping it as he continued.
"But I don't think we need to do this, Hermes. It doesn't have to be a conflict of cats and dogs out here. Whatever Shen wants, he can get - we're amenable to offering recompense. I've discussed this with our horn-headed friends, and they're in as well. As you can see, we can all be reasonable with each other; milk the goat together like the good friends that we are. I'm sure by this time next year, Shen will be laughing about it too. So long as you forward my message, good old friend."
Hermes considered this offer for a moment, a strange feeling arising. Everyone did indeed benefit, as Nicholas said, except the common citizen of No Man's Land. To them, a deal such as this would mean continued diminishment in quality of life; even more hopeless exploitation, even though the situation was already hopeless without it. Truthfully, Hermes had made at least hundreds of such underhanded deals across his tenure as Elder Priest, with both Nicholas and with other negotiatiors. Inertia alone should've compelled him to agree to this one too, and something told him that Shen wasn't quite as incorruptible as he seemed, that there probably was a hook to convince him with.
There was something different about this one, and Hermes wasn't sure what it was - the inertia was still there, the ease with which acceptance came was practically saturating him. The words, 'I will deal with it,' were already half-formed on his tongue, as if by rote muscle memory.
But something prevented him from executing the action itself. That confused him momentarily, since he knew himself rather well. What was enchaining him so?
"Well?" asked Nicholas.
Even the offer from Redheart was one such deal made under the table, if one truly made on behalf of Azriel's greater good. Initially, Hermes had made
all such deals from concern for the people and a desire to help them. He'd become a Priest to revive his family, but became an Elder Priest when he realized that was a futile and impossible mission befitting a madman, and the only route remaining was to protect those still alive. Over time, he must've lost sight of that initial vision. What foolishness.
After a second more, Hermes decided, firmly.
"No. You are insane and immoral, and a dangerous reprobate who shouldn't be seen on society's streets. I hope your daughter recovers and finds a way to escape her home, and that she never has to see your disgusting face again after that. Also I won't be telling Shen any such thing. If you approach him on your own, I hope he shoots you to death without asking questions. No, in fact - I'll actually warn him to do so," he said, all in one go, almost in one breath. "Leave my office now, or I'll kick you out myself."
There was a frigid moment, as Nicholas stared at him, candy popped in slackjawed mouth. He was shocked, since Hermes had never said anything this harsh in response to a simple business deal. There was something coldly satisfying to seeing him like this.
Yes. This was a nice feeling.
Once Nicholas recovered, he swallowed the candy and stared at him with a cold, intimidating curve under both eyes.
"Hardly a diplomatic response," said Nicholas, standing from the chair, with that deep smile still plastered on his face.
His shadow rose from the ground and swallowed him, then faded from reality.
Hermes stood and looked outside, thinking about the incantation of the Healing Rite, and remotely sacrificing the ashes that Azriel provided.
He contemplated how much of what he'd said was the heat of the moment, and how much of it was blood under the skin, waiting to gush forth the moment that skin was pierced by a sharp instrument. Perhaps, after an outburst such as that, it'd be wise to warn more than Shen? He sighed and reached for the phone.
This, Hermes could already tell, would be a long new decade of his life.
---
Gained the following as a Trait:
To Refuse - The character's can assert self-control and surpass unreasonable impulses with nothing short of a peak-human talent; if being socially seduced, it'd take a supernatural seducer to affect them if they didn't wish to be. This allows the character to occasionally ignore them and instead choose their better nature; it can curb even Character Flaws, albeit with potential circumstantial or supernatural complications, depending on the situation. Furthermore, the character develops ++++Willpower.
You can choose one of the following:
[ ] No bonus Trait
[ ] Life Held Sacrosanct - The character develops a firm, indomitable distaste for all common forms of bloodshed and murder. While it doesn't horrify them any more than it normally would, it also repulses them on an instinctive level. They'll never commit murder if there is another reasonable option available to them, and are highly resistant to committing manslaughter even if supernaturally enraged. This form of pacifism does not prevent the character from employing nonlethal violence or training combat Skills. The character accretes Morale and other circumstantial bonuses if they find ways to avoid bloodshed and death when circumstances seem as if they're forcing them to.
*This choice may or may not have certain other effects on your future.
[ ] To Slay the Spire - Gain a new Character Flaw, described below, as well as the associated bonuses.
Character Flaw: Gateshutter - You cannot stand this wretched world, the slow corrosion of everything sacred and good. Ever since the Spire rose from the Earth, its shadow has created nothing but endless strife. This bewitching influence of the apocalypse must end, through any means necessary. As a child, you've heard countless stories of the Anniversary King; you cannot hope to ever live up to his sheer legend, but you'll do your best. Whether constructing walls on Earth or infiltrating a secret innermost Realm, you'll find a way to beard the spiral leviathan and conclude its tyranny. Ascendants who are immoral earn your ire with twice the ease.
*This choice may or may not have certain other effects on your future.
Sacrificial Points: 2.3
Choose
three (3) actions to concentrate on before you set off to Armor Institute. Azriel's earned another
2 units of Wealth from pawning off a couple of other artifacts he found scattered around Central Gate's Realm. You can choose to spend
1 SP to earn an
additional action.
[ ] Gatecracking (General) - Enter Gates and adventure. Increase Gatecracking to [3.0].
[ ] Unbar the Silent Gate - Try to find a way to enter the Silent Gate before you depart, key or no key.
[ ] Training Time - Additional Benefit slot (Time.) Advance Skill: Hammer to [2.1].
[ ] Training Time II - Additional Benefit slot (Time.) Advance Skill: Hammer to [3.1].
[ ] Socialize: Hermes - +Hermes, ???, maybe reconciliation. +Morale, if some form of closure is achieved.
[ ] Socialize: Hermes II - +Hermes, ???. Req. Socialize: Hermes.
[ ] Socialize: Shen - +Shen, earn random bingo book-style trivia about Ascendants.
[ ] Socialize: Shen II - ++Shen, earn more random info about Ascendants, potentially other useful info on Kingdom or its workings. Req. Socialize: Shen.
[ ] Socialize: Lawrette - +Lawrette; gain a mild bonus to Skill: Gatecracking as well as a very minor bonus to its progression.
[ ] Socialize: Lawrette II - ++Lawrette, ???. Req. Socialize: Lawrette, as well
1 Wealth, as you'll need to bribe Lawrette with food.
[ ] Seek Contacts - Acquire contacts in No Man's Land.
[ ] Ritemastery - Increase Skill: Rites of Ash and Dust to [4.0]. Learn (choose from
list) or invent (write-in, moderate permissiveness) one minor rite.
[ ] Practice Skill - Practice one of your presently learned Skills. Grants moderate advancement dependent on Skill, but should be sufficient to elevate your finesse to a passionate hobbyist's level, or at least something resembling an inexperienced adept of the field. Recommended: Medicine
[ ] Learn a Trade - This can
only cover Skills which you could plausibly learn in No Man's Land: subterfuge, skulduggery, barter, stealth. Complex Skills, such a most combat Skills, are
difficult, dangerous, and slow to learn without a dedicated trainer. Dedicated trainers cost money.
[ ] Write-in - Certain other actions which don't contradict Azriel's character may be considered if proposed, at 10-20% reduced efficacy compared to any of the above.
Given there seemed to be some interest in this across the thread, I should also ask...
[ ] Get a Puppy
[ ] Get a Kitten
[ ] Petless Behavior
Write-in names are welcome, in case you do end up with a pet. If you choose to hang out with Lawrette some this turn, it'll also be assumed that unless specifically stated otherwise, you'll be raising it together until you set off for Armor, with the intention of cracking open the second Central Gate when you return.
