Avarel watched her as she stood across the wide desk in his office, her attention stolen by the book shelves to the right as if the disorder reigning over them offended her. And he realised that he still felt nothing.
All this effort for this little thing.
For having been approached by individuals of significance with the request of mercy for the girl, he had to admit that he had expected a lot more than what now appeared in front of him, even if her records had never offered anything promising. A pale, skinny elf that dressed more warmly than the eternal summer of the Kingdom dictated and could barely stand. Was this the one he had been pushed to save?
Was this the one Emberdale had died for?
Trueflight gestured towards one of the seats by his desk while looking at her. "Please sit." he asked, his voice polite. Kindness could now be afforded.
She did so, nearly losing her balance with the very first step. The arcanist rose, but if she fell, he would not manage to prevent it in time. Thankfully, his aid was never required. Reaching for her head, Celysiel Ashfury took the seat. Her stance was one of pain, exhaustion. Trueflight did not reprimand her, even if he would have considered such mistake lack of respect in the past. He was not without sympathy.
They had not been kind to her. For several hours, the two had been consumed by matters of interrogation that were not reduced to vocal means. Questions and peering in Ashfury's mind would often interchange without warnings, or breaks between the long hours. A Inquisitor Morrowsun had carried out the majority of the operation, often enough passing the reins to his priests. Avarel himself had been there, along with Magister Runeheart and Magister Highstrider. They had to oversee the entire procedure, partake in the questioning, observe the unlocked memories through the eyes of the priests, confirm certain things when required. Yet his promise had been kept. The High Priestess and her associate had been allowed to be there. The case had stretched more than those involved would have initially liked. It had to be so.
It had been inhumane for the girl. There were a couple of occasions where the pain had been overwhelming and she had spasmed a little, no different than a hatchling which has fallen from the nest and is now surrounded by predators. Even in the hours during which the officials had been discussing all that they had unveiled and had at long last notarized their verdict, she had been granted no respite. She had never complained. The arcanist had opposed to none of this, no matter how heartless. He had experienced the very same procedure after he had been returned from Feralas with news of a traitor and Emberdale's death. Mercy had no place in Spire business, let alone during so dangerous times. In this operation, trust had been misplaced before. Lives had been risked. Lives had been lost.
But now looking at her just after her freedom and innocence had been confirmed and secured, after the very result had been announced, there was only a sense of disappointment. All the feelings that he had expected to come upon first setting eyes on Celysiel Ashfury remained absent. Finality was there, demanded and enforced by cold logic, rather than sheer happiness. He had been trying to delay it each time, first waiting to see the girl's innocence proved, then that the minds of others would not waver. However in every step of the way, it mattered not that Trueflight's every wish came true. The sense of accomplishment was lacking.
All he could do was compare the elf in front of him with agent Emberdale and find the former at a disadvantage.
He linked his hands over the desk. A tingling pain bothered his chest, but coughing was held back. By the High Priestess' grace he had been healed, but recovery was slow. Avarel's eyes stared at Ashfury, almost empty.
"If you would not mind, there are certain details which you must be made aware of regarding the decision of the assembly." The truth was that even if she did mind, it would mean nothing to the Spire. Thankfully though, she simply nodded, allowing him to continue. "Though your innocence and freedom have been decided, it cannot be argued that the ordeal of the last months can prove rather challenging. Therefore a Spire official will be assigned to assess your condition."
"Supervision." She finally broke the silence, looking at him. "You wish me to report to the assigned individual."
He had expected the straight-forward nature of her words to bring tension, but Avarel found himself relaxing. "Indeed." he spoke through a sigh. Papers were stacked in front of him, carried from the assembly. He lowered his gaze on them, passing one to the side. "The regularity and nature of the aforementioned reports will depend wholefully on the official's judgment. You are expected to conform."
There was no opposition for once more. Only a question. "To whom am I expected to report?"
Trueflight's response did not come immediately. He searched for the answer amidst the documents provided by Magister Highstrider's scribe. "Inquisitor Dae'elius." he announced eventually, turning to look up at her again. "Though a clause allows Inquisitor Morrowsun to summon you and conduct similar assessments as well."
Half-way through the last sentence, his tone began to fade, each word uttered more and more slowly upon being confronted by her quizzical expression. Similar confusion was soon expressed on his face, but as she hurried to dismiss hers, he provided no questions. After all, Ashfury nodded firmly, though that seemed to worsen her headache.
"As you command."
The arcanist frowned, his gaze turning back to his papers. He caught a shiver at his digits, which he tried to mask by putting more pressure in his grasp, to the point that the material folded.
Why this? Why now? Had he not kept his promise to the Fallen, had he not achieved the victory the agent had wished for?
Is this not what you had wanted, Emberdale?
His nostrils flared lightly as he turned the page. "Additionally" he spoke through a poorly timed cough. "there was discussion regarding a possibility of utilizing your powers of shadow by allowing the Spire to absorb you as an asset."
The seat on which Ashfury sat creaked. When he turned to look up, there was no schooled expression to note, but one of poorly hidden fear. Evidently, the prospect far from excited the girl. He did not find it surprising, not after having spent long hours with access in her mind.
The idea had been proposed by Morrowsun of course, in order gain control over yet another wielder of shadow and avoid any rogue elements which could lead to situations similar to Umbric's riot. It had become a popular opinion among some as a counter-measure, though Trueflight had his doubts regarding Morrowsun being the one inspired to promote the suggestion. It had no doubt come from his priest, Emberray, whose zeal against shadow users was public knowledge. Magister Highstrider had considered the idea a little. Far too little.
"The notion was rejected widely by the assembly." he informed her, watching as relief claimed the elf at the other side of the desk. She had not wanted this. "Your skill is greatly insufficient and your experience lacking. All we will presently ask is cooperation with the Spire official. Your records will need to be updated regularly. Changes in residence, long exits from the Kingdom must all be noted."
"Will clearance be required?" she asked, now somewhat relaxed.
He hesitated, uncertain. "I doubt it." he offered as helpfully as he could. It had not been discussed in the assembly. "However I trust that the Inquisitors tasked with supervision will inform you in case the Spire happens to oppose to an action."
She nodded and so, he turned back to the papers, his voice dull, exhausted. "There remains still the matter of your residence." he announced, moving pages in order to find the desired one. "Your former residence remains unclaimed and yours by right, though it has been sealed for a while due to investigations." His hand brushed against his features. "Bureaucracy may take time. However, we may be able to return some of your belongings shortly." Avarel hesitated for a moment. "Do you have any lodgings available until then?"
Again, Ashfury dipped her chin. "The residence of Captain Adhemar."
The arcanist twitched. A Farstrider Captain. Another individual of importance. "So be it then." he murmured. As much as he kept staring at the parchment though, no chance of salvation could be found. His vision blurred from weariness.
Eventually, Trueflight rose, a hand caressing the surface of the desk as he circled around it. "And lastly, one final thing." he informed her. She looked at him in silence. "It is undeniable that you are an elf with connections, Ashfury, I will not dispute this fact. That alone, as long as their words may carry great meaning for your person in terms of assurance, yet a matter will still remain.
'You fear the Sunfury Spire." His tone was not accusatory, though it challenged that of Morrowsun in severity. A part of the arcanist was surprised by the sound of his voice. "Several could argue that fear is a powerful tool of authority in managing the masses. Yet I must note where those who sought to rule through fear now lie."
Ashfury turned to look at him, though in the end her gaze wavered, lips trembling. "There have been some unfortunate experiences in the past. I can hardly be fond of the Sunfury Spire after certain events."
"So I am aware." Avarel responded. His tone remained strict. "I will neither apologise for the actions of past officials, nor seek to justify them. Their cases were not my own and their fates are known. As is yours. Remember this day, the day that there was nothing to fear of us. Authority and justice are not terms which oppose each other."
Still, the next part could not be anything but difficult. His free hand dug into his robe, locating something solid close to his chest. Metallic. Avarel closed his eyes, feeling a sting of hesitation for what would come next. Could he truly part with it? This burden had been his. Yet in spite of this sentiment, the golden insignia eventually glinted under weak rays of the afternoon sun, held out towards Ashfury.
"This belonged to agent Emberdale." he spoke. A sudden pain poked his chest, though it was neither his exhaustion, nor a remnant of Alendis' poison. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears, but he continued, his voice neutral. "She gave her life so you could be here. Let this be a reminder of her sacrifice, Ashfury. Of your duty to this Kingdom. Do not throw any of that away."
She accepted the insignia bearing the fallen agent's name. Her fingers caressed the carved letters, before pulling the item close in an embrace. "I will honour her memory." she promised her words suddenly feeling of great importance.
But the void within him remained. Redemption was greatly absent. Mistakes could not be erased. He was a slave to a despair; it crept deeper and deeper, dulling his mind as Syldan was left alone to play the game, along withthe girl's allies. The High Priestess had greatly influenced Magister Highstrider and even bent Inquisitor Morrowsun with her statements, he had seen. And his good friend, bereft of the joy which had once characterized him, had engaged a fine round of chess and politics by insisting on Dae'elius' appointment, a woman not even directly under Runeheart's authority. But why?
He felt weary. Shapes danced on the walls. He rubbed his eyes, blaming the mirages on his lack of sleep. "I will note your progress with interest." he spoke eventually, eager to be left alone. "Welcome home."
An offer of his hand was made, expecting her to shake it. She did so hesitantly after she stood, twitching at the physical touch. He kept looking at her, inspecting her, waiting. For something. Anything. But it did not come. Sun, why did it not come?
Is this not what you wanted? Is it not?
"You are dismissed." he noted.
Unsteady steps guided her out of the office chamber. He could note Emberdale's insignia held closely at her chest, Ashfury's head tucked towards the symbol of the agent's service and utlimate sacrifice. She was not impressive as she covered the distance or in the silent way that she closed the door.
The gentle clicking which marked his privacy allowed him to collapse.
Trueflight fell on his knees, a hand still holding onto the desk, while the other covered his face. He wept shamelessly, his body shaken by violent sobs. For the man he had been. For the man he had become. For the damnation he had brought to those loyal.
"Once the girl is saved, once we have done right by Emberdale, will you eventually forgive yourself?"
Syldan's words echoed in the room, but it was not the Magister's voice which carried them. A whisper for the source of which the arcanist did not care. A damning voice that would never let him go.
"Will you finally be free?"
He grieved for the truth so deeply etched into his heart. Emberdale had been damned, her cruel death witnessed by him. There could never be salvation for his decision. Certain mistakes could not be undone.
He would never be free.
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