Record of Ashes War

Chapter 18 - A Knight's Morals

Azurus peered down a sunlit field of thriving brush as he neared the Draumen estate. He gently tugged on Eleanoire's reins, reminding the black mare for the hundredth time to not stray from the road to feed on fresh grass. Heira's walls crested the horizon from his position on horseback. The city lay opposite of Blackridge River.

Heira housed a great palace rivalling the one in Exaltyron. Once a summer vacationing home by the royal family of Xenaria, the palace had since been abandoned following the deposing of High House Zz'tai. Maintenance had been left to Heira's governor until some five years ago. Queen Dahlia had given charge of it to the Order of Trillia to use as a temple, making it the largest temple the Order had in their possession. Domed rooftops of the temple stood taller than Heira's walls. Azurus assumed her majesty now regretted her decision.

He took a drink from his waterskin, grateful to be at the end of his long journey. The average caravan carrying burdens from Exaltyron to Heira was expected to take the better part of two months. Azurus though, unburdened by anything and travelling light, had managed to cut that timeframe in half with the aid of his specially bred Queen's Guard horse. The black beasts were of an ancient line, powerful enough to carry armored knights, but not quite the match in stamina to mounts from the deserts.

The Draumen estate was a humble sight compared to the mansions Azurus had seen in the capital. Creeping ivy wrapped itself around cracked stone walls. A wisp of smoke rose from a small square chimney. Tulips of all colors were set in an array before the front of the house. To the right was a large maple tree. A swing had been tied to a thick branch and Sir Draumen's five year old nephew, Cadril, was happily sitting on it while a maid pushed him from behind.

Azurus dismounted before the manor gates. He felt somewhat bare. His longsword was hidden beneath his travel pack rather than carried at his waist. His armor was left behind at the capital. The only weapon in his possession was a small paring knife in the pockets of his trousers which he'd purchased from a travelling peddler he'd met on the road. With it he'd bought a worn cloak which now hung over the plain laced shirt he wore.

The manor gates opened with a creak. A white haired butler shuffled out and bowed. "You must be Richter," the wrinkled man said, looking Azurus up and down as if to confirm his features. "I am Anaril, Lady Roxanne's current butler. You're here earlier than expected."

Azurus nodded. 'Richter' was the name he was given to use during his stay here. An outstanding young boy Sir Draumen had met in the capital city. He was to train as the estate's new butler. Or at least that was the story that would be told if anyone bothered to ask.

Azurus unpacked his belongings and handed Eleanoire's reins to the butler. The horse snorted, whipping her head and snapping the reins out of Anaril's loose grip. The eight year old mare was fiercely loyal. Azurus shook his head, whispering words of comfort into her ears before handing the reins over again. He grabbed his belongings and carried them inside while the horse was led away to be stabled.

A middle aged woman with long dark hair awaited him. She wore a bright smile. In her arms was a child, her second son. Azurus gave a formal bow. "Lady Roxanne." Radis had said that she was in her late thirties. Azurus expected her to be more akin to Queen Dahlia. But the lady of House Draumen appeared much younger. She didn't share any of the tired lines that the queen bore. Something to do with the stress of a queen's position perhaps, he thought.

"Mister Richter. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Allow me to lead you to your room. You must be tired from your long journey!"

"Oh not at all, my lady," Azurus answered cheerfully, following after her. He planned to play his part well. The part of an overeager boy who had the fortune of coming into the servitude of nobility. "I'd have loved to begin my work training this instant had evening not been so fast approaching."

Roxanne paused, turning her head to the side. "You weren't supposed to be here for another two cycles at least, Sir Aegis. Your task isn't the kind that gets done with haste, but rather ruined with it. Do keep that in mind."

"I-ah, yes," Azurus stammered, wondering if it was alright for her to be mentioning his official name aloud.

"The only servants within this household are the butler you've already met and the maid you must have seen with Cadril. They are aware of your identity," she said, as if reading his mind. "The servants of this household have been here for decades and I trust them greatly. We understand the importance of your task and are willing to lay our lives down for her majesty, Queen Dahlia."

"You've met her majesty?"

"We've talked during a few gatherings I attended in my younger days. We exchange letters every once in a while. I wouldn't exactly presume to take the position of an informer, but neither do I think she considers me a friend. I think I'm somewhere in between." Roxanne led him to the second floor of the manor. “Well, I suppose I'm an informer now. I am to relay your reports to the Crown.”

No luminite stones were embedded into the walls. Light instead came from the manor's many six paned windows. Furnishing was void of color and made from faded or chipped wood. Sir Draumen wasn't lying when he said his House was on the lower end of nobility, both in terms of rank and wealth.

Roxanne glanced behind her as she climbed the final step of the staircase, rocking her babe back and forth. "I don't know whether to consider your early arrival a fortune or a woe. Vicegerent Odain has been paying visits to many aristocrats residing in Heira. Something about preaching the faith to them all. I suspect there's more to it than that. The Trillians possess a vast sum of wealth and I assume the nobility have an interest in it. Being near to the city, we haven't escaped Odain's gaze. He's requested an audience with me. I figured it'd be best to comply for now, seeing as how we aren't very wealthy so far as the higher class go. I haven't received a response regarding a date. It may be soon, could also be a month from now. I assume it likely you will see the man yourself at some point in the city before he comes here for an evening."

Azurus hadn't given much thought to his mission on his way from the capital. Rather, his thoughts had been occupied with wondering just how long the mission would take. Just how long he would be away from…

Better to be cautious than hasty. Vicegerent Odain. A man said to be the Lord Sun of the Thousand Sun City. A tyrant who'd burnt down an entire forest and killed all of its inhabitants. Azurus had two tasks. Uncover specific details about the Trillians' planned conquest, and find out their ties to the First Chancellor, Adrian Rinz. He'd mingled in high society long enough as Emeria's guard to know their mannerisms and what would be expected of him. "What of Heira's governor?" he asked. "Have they any loyalty to the crown of which to leverage?"

Roxanne snorted. "The governor? Heira, unfortunately, is House Galadin's jurisdiction. High Lord Galadin cares not for competency when appointing someone, but rather how easy it would be to control them. Heira saw an increase in criminal activity since Governor Bernestur's appointment. Criminals that all of a sudden went silent with the appearance of the Trillian Order, more or less instantly winning public favor. The whole Scorching thing reeks of schemes. Odain gets control of the criminals, keeping them satisfied with his wealth, and uses them to maintain order. The governor turns a blind eye to the strangeties of the Trillian Order's actions because the city is well maintained and he's probably getting something out of it for himself as well."

Roxanne stopped before a door and opened it with her free hand. The child in her arms reached towards Azurus as he walked past them. His small arms poked through the knight's belongings and found the hilt of his sword. "Mm. Quite eager to learn the sword it seems," Roxanne said. She hugged her child tight.

"Just like his uncle," Azurus commented.

"Hum. And how is my dear brother faring?"

"Last I saw, Sir Draumen was and still is among the finest of her majesty's Guard, and an exemplary knight. I learned much from him." Azurus set his belongings down on a bed. The room was much humbler than his quarters at the capital. Something more akin to what he expected of a middleclass inn, only much cleaner. It contained nothing more than a bed, a wardrobe and a single six panel window at the far end. Floorboards creaked under his weight. The manor must be quite old…

He turned to find Roxanne still observing him from the doorway. He'd half expected her to have been gone already. "Er, is there something you'd like me to do, my lady?"

She rolled her eyes. "Drop the formalities. They're tiring. Besides, as Queen's Guard, you actually outstrip me as nobility. And you've been granted the family name of 'Aegis'.

"I'd like to know how you came to be the ideal candidate for this task, Azurus. I mean no offense of course. You just look like the storybook knight. Tall. Broad shoulders. Pale blue eyes. Strong jawline and shoulder length hair. The kind of man they preform plays about on the streets. The kind that makes women swoon."

He blushed. The comments were entirely inappropriate. He opened his mouth to speak but Roxanne added more.

"The kind that always ends up marrying a princess in the stories…"

Azurus gasped. "Does all of Xenaria know about me and Emeria?"

"Know…? Courtly rumors travel far. Well. They are just rumors though. And you've just confirmed them." Her eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you're the right fit for a covert mission?"

He kept his eyes glued to the floor, face red with embarrassment.

"I only jest, Sir Aegis. I don't mean to dull your confidence. I only meant to lighten the mood. You seemed a little stiff when you arrived, is all. Hum. Maybe I pushed too heavy a conversation on to you. Feel free to join my husband and I for dinner. Or you can rest after your long journey. Let the maid know if you'd rather have something brought up to your room."

Azurus nodded. "Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Roxanne."

"The pleasure is mine. Do not cloud your mind with needless thoughts of your task. Worry breeds anxiety. And from what I hear, this Vicegerent is a shrewd man. I'll see you later, Sir Aegis," she nodded, leaving him alone, his door wide open.

Azurus let out a sigh after closing his door. Worry breeds anxiety… How could he not worry? All this time spent thinking of his return to the capital, and not once did he consider the fate of the nation quite well rested on his shoulders. And the lady Draumen oh so conveniently made me admit a rumor.

Something about Roxanne inspired nostalgia and warmth. She carried herself with an odd sense of liberty but had wisdom unbefitting her appearance. Almost like Lady Sar'tara.

Azurus organized his belongings and fell back on his bed, sinking a half inch into its plush surface. Queen's Guard typically slept on harder beds than normal. Excessive luxury was a right they were not given.

Azurus' heart ached. He stared at the ceiling, wondering if he truly was fitted for this task. A few short cycles and he was already missing Emeria. A few long cycles, more like. He hadn't the mind to rest. Instead, he locked his door and did the only thing that brought him peace. He brought out his longsword and practiced every drill and maneuver he'd been taught, keeping the weapon sheathed in fear of harming the already aged furniture. He practiced Emeria's swordplay as well, or what he remembered of it. He imagined her graceful movements and beautiful smile as he mimicked her elusive footwork. His heart was pounding against his chest by the end and he had run out of breath.

It has to be me, he thought. I was chosen, and thus I must obey. He'd come this far through effort alone, and he wasn't going to stop. Not when lives depended on this task.

The sun had already set and Azurus found himself sweating. He was in no condition to join his hosts at the dinner table and instead requested something simple be brought up. The maid came by not long after and brought him a fragrant bowl of stew consisting of cabbage and Brussels sprouts. His least preferred greens. Azurus stared at the vegetables. His free hand touched his side, remembering the feel Emeria's punishing elbows. He shook his head, smiling, and regretfully brought a forkful of greens into his mouth. At the least there was a slice of raspberry pie to accompany.

***

Azurus raised a brow when Redmond, Roxanne's husband, let out a loud early morning yawn devoid of any manners. He had dark hair much like his wife, but he was also an inch shorter than Roxanne and a whole head shorter than the Azurus. He was rather plain of looks and had a cleanly shaven face. Not quite cleanly shaven. There wasn't a trace of any beard at all. He almost seemed like a growing teen from Azurus' point of view.

"I don't have much advice to give you myself," Redmond said before finishing the yawn, making his voice sound excessively deep. He mounted atop the saddle of a shabby pony with overgrown hair at the sides of its head. "We've been observing Odain from afar for some time. He's good at hiding information. I imagine you were chosen because Queen Dahlia has found herself backed into a corner. Poor lass probably has little allies she can trust."

Azurus stifled a snort. For Redmond, whose appearance was that of an adolescent, calling her majesty a child was amusing. "Yes. That, and she needed some way to separate me from the princess for the time being."

"I'd say to simply act conspicuous and observe the Order from afar. Though, I don't know how useful that would be," Redmond said, looking Azurus up and down. "You're build makes you stand out far too much. If I had to make a suggestion, it'd be to find a way to immerse yourself into Trillia's mercenary group and make your way up their ranks. Since you're only a butler in training, I s'pose we can say that you've a fair bit of free time on your hand to aid the needy or some other hogwash."

Redmond's pony was smaller than Eleanoire. This further accentuated the height difference between Azurus and his host. He wondered if his build was really all that abnormal. Most of her majesty's guard were of similar height and muscle. He hadn't been around many other men that were significantly smaller than himself. "Join the Order's mercenaries…" The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. To pledge himself to an entity other than the crown, even if only in name, was repulsive. Especially a treacherous entity.

"I hear they're looking to recruit just about anyone. Average city boys are lured by the promise of valor whereas common criminals eagerly join when coins and women are dangled in front of them. And then there's the Healers. Needle in a haystack, those. The Order's been gathering them too. They've only got about a dozen or so, since those born with the Gift are said to be one in a million or some such. Troubling nonetheless. Not even armies employ so many Healers."

The Gift was a claimed blessing of Goddess Trillia. Roads were rife with rumors of the emerging faith. Among common conversational topics, recruitment of Healers was one Azurus had encountered a few times when speaking to travellers. An organization gathering men of fighting age as well as those born with the Gift of Healing did not bode well. On top of that, knowing a group of Healers to be concentrated in a single city was drawing the ill from all over, making preaching a simpler task. Except Healers can do little but Heal physical wounds.

"Am I to pretend I am a thug, or just a normal boy?" Azurus asked.

"Neither. You don't need two fake identities lad. You are Richter. The butler to be for Lady Roxanne Draumen. Anyone asks, tell them the truth. Oh, and you don't have a curfew either of when we expect you back at the manor. Spend a couple drabs down at a tavern after sundown. See if you can loosen some lips. Can't do it myself since no one wants to talk to someone my size."

"I see. This conversation has been insightful. Thank you, Lord Redmond." Azurus felt more confident now. He had a decent sense for how to go about completing his mission.

"I'm no lord. I'm from a moderate merchant family. Roxanne just happened to fall for me. I still don't know why. The aristocrats thought it a joke and tried courting her even after our marriage, if only to get closer to Sir Draumen I would presume, and in turn, the crown as well. Roxanne still gets offers to this day. They all end up as fuel for a hearth. All she cares for these days is her two sons. Even makes me a bit jealous," the man laughed.

"You ought to send them to Exaltyron. We'll make fine Queen's Guards out of them," Azurus said.

"S'pose that will depend on whether they inherited my blood or the Draumen blood. You wouldn't want someone my size protecting the Queen."

"Size makes little difference in the way of skill. Her highness the princess, for example, is a better swordsman than most others I know."

"And I suppose you would know of that first hand…?"

"Yes. In fact—" Azurus snapped his mouth shut, sensing an innuendo from Redmond's remark. He turned his head away and felt the rising heat in his cheeks.

Redmond laughed. "I don't know lad," he said after a while, turning serious. "Maybe you weren't the right choice for this task. Whorehouses, for one, are good places to gather information. Though from the letters Sir Draumen used to write about you, you don't seem the kind of man to spend his time in one."

Azurus stayed silent. He hadn't considered the option. He was willing to lay his life for Emeria and her mother. But he wasn't willing to break faith just to complete a mission. He would forever regret that decision. And… and it goes against my code as a knight. Yes. If it's against my code, then there is no use pondering on it.

Azurus swallowed. A knight's duty was to his nation, or so he'd told the queen. She'd asked if he was capable of killing in cold blood. Capable of acting dishonorably. And I said yes… The first of all lessons a knight learns was that of loyalty. But how could he be loyal and disloyal at the same time?

This is headache inducing. Once again I find that I'm questioning myself when I thought I'd steeled my resolve the night afore.

He clutched tight Eleanoire's reins, realizing a horrid truth. He'd readily said yes when asked if he could kill, but was now doubting himself when considering being unfaithful to his beloved. As if killing in cold blood wasn't already a heinous deed. No. There may not even be a need to do either. Sir Aegis and her majesty entrusted me with this task. I must see it to the end while upholding my morals. I must lead by example.

Sounds of horse drawn carts and people eventually surrounded Azurus as he and Redmond led their horses to the main road leading up to Heira. Gate guards paused to do a brief and lackluster inspection of every entering traveller, not bothering at all with exiting ones. They recognized Redmond and simply nodded in his direction, letting him and Azurus pass without question.

Redmond went his own way as he had a shop to run, leaving Azurus alone in an unknown city. He stabled his horse at an inn close to the gates and went about exploring on foot. He threw his worn cloak over his shoulders and walked with a slight hunch. The average Heiran was at least a half head shorter than him. I've lived too long among soldiers and well fed nobles.

Heira bore the title 'Jewel of Xenaria. Azurus expected more from a place holding that name, dated though it may be. The city was once a spring of wealth and knowledge. A symbol of the nation's prosperity. The royal palace turned temple was said to have held a library open to the public. The palace itself was a symbol of the great Xenarian Empire that once was when Flame Bearers ruled the land. Its domed roofs and pointed arch doors and halls were more reminiscent of Southern Tarmian architecture than Xenarian, giving testament to the diversity of cultures that once existed.

Centuries had withered since, and time had changed many things. Azurus thought Metsiphon and Exaltyron were far more impressive. In comparison, Heira's streets were rather unkempt, many bearing drab or tired faces even though the morn had just arrived. Street structure was poor. Buildings and houses were constructed in too close a proximity to each other, birthing a web of narrow alleys. Telling old buildings apart from the new was as simple as telling land from sea. Whoever had authorized the construction of newer houses had poor knowledge of city management.

Heira had many more Trillian mercenaries than Azurus originally accounted for. His eyes barely managed to glaze over a dozen people before spotting an armed man wearing a grey coat uniform with a bright yellow trillium flower at their hearts. Even their coat buttons were fashioned into the three petal flower. The vast majority of these mercenaries, while not as tall as Azurus, had stocky arms and rugged appearances. Some had scars on their faces and missing teeth.

Memories of his time as an orphan in Exaltyron's Impoverished District resurfaced. These were people with limited desires to better themselves and instead content with living a life of brawling, stealing, drinking and whoring. The Trillians were looking to pick up just about anyone. People that might normally slither in grimy alleys were instead walking fearlessly abreast regular citizens.

Azurus observed the Heirans as he weaved through a crowded and noisy street. The cobblestones beneath his feet were cracked and needed tending to. The average person was doing their best to avoid Trillia's arms.

So that's why this city feels… suffocated. As if a disease were seeping through every crevice in every wall.

People feared upsetting the wrong person. It would be well if these mercenaries had found morals upon joining a religious order, but if the capital's Impoverished District was any indication, it was that those living beneath society's crust would not so easily exchange their noxious liquor for holy water. Especially when Trillian acolytes were likely not enforcing whatever morals they preached.

Following a moving crowd down the main street, Azurus found himself approaching the great temple at the city's center. He near gaped upon seeing it up close. The white marbled structure dwarfed everything in its immediate vicinity. Domed white roofs sparkled like great iron shields beneath a naked sun. Temple gates were crafted out of thick iron into which images of the Goddess were carved. Beautiful flower bushes were arranged in an array before the temple with streaming fountains of mosaic interiors running alongside them. It was the only place where the mood didn't seem grim.

"First time?" a bright haired girl asked, arms crossed and wearing a condescending smile.

Azurus looked down. The girl's head barely reached over his waist. She wore an acolytes white and gold robes. He estimated her to be around eleven or twelve. "Yes," he admitted, realizing that he'd been staring at the temple for a while.

"Easy to tell. My advice, don't ogle like a goat. Oh, I'm Ophelia by the way. I'm a Healer," she proclaimed as she puffed out her chest. Azurus simply nodded. His lacking reaction made her frown. She clicked her tongue and turned away, striding up the white steps to the temple gates while humming. She seemed frail. Almost malnourished even. Her eyes were sunken, suggesting heavy fatigue, yet there were no dark spots beneath them to indicate a lack of sleep. Azurus had heard that Healers easily tired when using their Gift. His instinct told him that the girl was being abused. And his morals as a knight bade him to follow her.

The temple interior had more to show than the exterior. Beyond the gates was a massive prayer hall. Two columns of pews were divided down the middle by a beautiful velvet carpet of royal blue. The pews were lined with luminite stones emanating white light —an egregious statement of wealth. Thick stone pillars were on either side of the hall and at the far end stood the most gorgeous statue Azurus had ever seen

A detailed stone carving of the Goddess Trillia that seemed one step shy of coming to life. Atop her head was a crown of three pointed flowers and her hands were clasped at her chest. Wrists and neckline were laden with carvings of bracelets and a choker. The folds in her long dress had been chiseled with such precision. It nearly brought Azurus to tears. He could see why travellers were attracted to the faith. It was easy to fall in love with something so magnificent. The luminite benches only made the idol shine brighter.

Azurus closed his eyes and let out an exhale. The imprinted image of Trillia was replaced by one of Emeria. A mere idol wasn't enough to convert him. He already had someone he loved more than his own self. And he also had a strong sense of duty. In the end, everything before him could be reduced to a farce. A wordless persuasion meant to move weakened hearts seeking solace in something greater than themselves. A single second of pondering was enough to tell him that this was nothing more than wealth spent coaxing flimsy emotions. But the masses seldom think for themselves.

Azurus didn't immediately follow after Ophelia. He sat at the corner of one of the benches and clasped his hands like many others were doing, while observing where the girl was going. She eventually made it to the front of the hall and kneeled before the great idol in prayer, looking like a fledgling sprout existing next to an ages old tree. Azurus cocked his head to the side. He wondered if the distance to the Goddess was meant to effect the prayer. Or if Ophelia's status as a Healer granted her the privilege of being closer to the idol. Either way, her actions didn't make sense to him.

It wasn't long after that that an acolyte in similar white robes came to fetch her. She followed after him. Azurus tailed them, wondering if anyone would stop him from getting closer to the statue. No one else seemed to care. Most people were either too deep into their prayers or were praying with their eyes closed. No one observes. No one thinks. Azurus wondered if faith was a guiding tool for the Heirans, or just a leash that hidden masters were gently tugging, guiding them along a decided path.

Azurus tailed the two down a few halls. They entered a dark room with stained glass windows. The place was lined with beds. An infirmary of sorts. Or sleeping quarters. There were a few rugged men in grey uniform sitting around. Some of them had bruises on their faces while others had small cuts here and there.

"Took long enough! I could'a given a whole Flaming sermon by now!" one of them cried.

Azurus observed from beyond the doorway, half standing within shadows. No one was paying him any mind. They were all crowding around the little girl, waiting for her to Heal them. Ophelia looked depressed rather than frightened. She was used to this. She put her hand on someone's chest and closed her eyes in concentration.

The loud mouthed man yanked her by the hair. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. "Are you blind or something, brat? Can't you see the gash on my leg? I can hardly Flaming walk!" the man said as he took a limping step. Azurus noticed the half undone bandages around a thick thigh. Hardly anything to fret over. No bleeding —arteries were undamaged. A shallow flesh wound.

"But—" Ophelia began.

"But nothing! Hurry up n'Heal me first!"

"Why don't you sit down you lout," another man said. He pushed the first man back onto his bed. Ophelia fell along with him as her hair was still being held. A small cry escaped her mouth this time. "I've been here since before the sun was up. I ain't about to wait for her to Heal your butter knife scratch. What happens when she passes out? You want me to wait a whole day? Trillia's skirt I will! Damned if I know why Odain, er, his holiness, Lord Odain, sent away every Healer save for this one.

Azurus' eyes narrowed. The other Healers had been sent away? An argument erupted within the room about who deserved Healing first. Ophelia was caught in between them while the priest that brought her simply stood aside with a careless expression as if he'd seen the same scene play out too many a time.

Azurus waited for the hairless priest to do something. His lean figure showed beneath his white robes in parts that pressed against his skin. The man instead just shook his head and walked towards the door. Azurus had seen enough. He wasn't going to glean any further information by just observing. He barged in, pushing the priest to the side.

One by one, each mercenary felt the hammer of justice. Azurus dragged them by their collars and pummeled them before they could react. They were left with many more bruises and broken bones than they previously had. Two tried fighting back. Though he didn't have his beloved sword, he didn't feel threatened in the least. His adversaries were unarmed. To his trained eyes, their movements seemed pitifully slow. His faster reflexes allowed him to dodge their strikes. He swiftly struck both of them in the jaw, knocking them unconscious. Their unhindered fall to the stone floor did more damage to them than his fists.

The last man standing was the one that had yanked Ophelia's hair. Azurus threw him to the floor and stomped on his knee, and then ground his heel against the small scratch he'd been complaining about. The man let out a blood curdling scream.

"That's for hurting her," Azurus said. He then bent down and struck the man's face with a fist, breaking his nose, his head bouncing against the floor. "And that's for making me angry." Azurus knelt before Ophelia who had curled up near a bed and was clutching its frame as if it were the Goddess herself. "Are you alright?" She nodded in reply. "Can you Heal yourself?" Another nod. "Good. I'll carry you to your home," he said as he picked her up.

He turned around to find a lean bodied man in a snow colored coat with silver buttons and flower patterns standing in the doorway. The man had silver hair that was greased back and a crooked nose that'd broken few too many times and never properly Healed. He was nearly as tall as Azurus. Odain. Or at least he matched the description of Odain that Azurus had been given, though, much younger than what he'd assumed. Odain had a sword at his waist with a silver pommel and black handle. At the hilt's end was a gold disc with sharp points coming out of it.

The first priest was down on both of his knees, as if worshipping this newcomer. "Your Brilliance. What brings you to the infirmary?"

Azurus' glared openly now, as Odain was blocking the doorway. The Lord Sun… He who burned Lady Sar'tara's home and now threatens my own.

"You-your Holiness," Ophelia stammered.

Odain held up a hand to silence her, his palms showing calluses at each finger's base. He rested his left hand on the hilt of the sword and stepped forward.

Azurus took a half step back, steadying his center of gravity to a comfortable position. He mentally prepared himself to toss Ophelia to a bed and snap Odain's neck if necessary. It would be so simple if I could just kill him right now… But of course he couldn’t. The nation would be thrown into chaos if a religious figurehead revered by a vast sum of Xenarians was assassinated.

"I was under the impression that you hated conflict above all things, Your Brilliance." Azurus accused, glancing at Odain's sword and gesturing with a tilted head towards the fallen mercenaries.

"I do," Odain answered, his voice deep and smooth like wine aged for centuries. He placed his right hand on Ophelia's forehead. The girl gasped as the fatigue in her eyes disappeared. Odain removed his hand from her head at the same time he removed his left hand from the hilt of his weapon. "Some, it would seem, are slow in learning our teachings. Others readily seek conflict. For that is what you were doing just now, weren't you, young man? Antagonizing me because those beneath me acted without thought?" he finished, folding his hands behind his back.

Azurus froze, searching for an answer now that the argument had been flipped against him. Ophelia jumped out of his arms and knelt before Odain, elbowing Azurus in the shin. I will not kneel before anyone but her majesty! "The city is rife with men like them wearing Trillian livery. You cannot tell me that absorbing these people into your order avoids conflict. It rather gives them the authority to oppress like they did to Ophelia. And… what need is there in a faith preaching peace for having such a high number of armed men beneath them?" Azurus asked.

Go on. Wiggle your way out of this one. It was a blunt question very related to his mission. But it was also the perfect chance to ask such a question. He hoped for a hint, or perhaps something more. Anything that would give him the necessary information to relay to Queen Dahlia.

"Ah, you must be new to the city then," Odain began. "Not everything need be as complex as it would seem. A moment's worth of critical thought and you find many answers standing before you. Some of which you seem to have avoided and others that you favored, because it fits the narrative you've crafted for yourself. Or is it that you held a bias against the Goddess Trillia all along?" Odain waved his hand. "Whatever the reason, it matters little now. For explaining the truth to a young one like you is the reason for my existence. I'm very much aware that past criminals make up a vast sum of my… militia let's just call them. But what do you suppose would happen if they'd never met religion? They'd remain criminals all their lives. I give them an opportunity to come out of that life. To better themselves. As you can see, it takes time for some. As for why I need a militia… Well, I don't. But labelling them as such, catering to their ingrained violent personas, makes converting them easier."

"You cannot ask an illiterate man who's only known thievery and street brawls to just sit down and become a priest one day now can you?" Odain then questioned. "I grant them a way out. Be a fighter for a just cause. Don't seek to start a conflict, but rather end one that you see. And earn an honest wage whilst doing it." Odain knelt before Ophelia. "Are you alright dear child?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yes, Your Holiness."

"That's good to hear," he said with a smile. "I'm sorry for what you often have to put up with. I'm sorry for not being here often enough to aid you with handling these poor misguided humans. Go on. Go home and rest. I will call upon you again when you're needed."

Ophelia nodded again and scurried off.

Odain stood and turned to face the still kneeling priest. "You. Place these men on the beds and have a regular physic tend to them." He turned back to Azurus. "I'm happy to answer any further questions. Feel free to follow me and I will show you what the Trillian faith is truly about. Or, if you have something else to attend to, you are welcome here at any time for further guidance."

Azurus clenched his fists as Odain walked towards the doorway. He was smooth with his words. And his mannerisms showed experience and charisma. Gleaning any information from him was going to be a difficult task. But a chance to talk with the man himself alone was enough to motivate Azurus. He'd thought meeting with the Vicegerent would have been harder.

Be a fighter for a just cause and earn a wage while doing it. Could criminals really be turned so easily? If so, then Exaltyron's Impoverished District… Morally, that solution was near perfect. It helped avoid needless conflict. Which is what these Trillians advocate.

Azurus followed after Odain. Followed after the back of a tyrant. But for what reason was such a man a tyrant?