When Heroes Die

“Those aren’t spies, they’re merely inconspicuous diplomatic envoys.”

— Dread Empress Sinistra II, the Coy

Gaining admittance to the Les Horizons Lugubres was a chore.

The three of us needed to be vouched for by three existing patrons of the tavern before we were allowed entry. Songbird arranged for our invitations to the establishment. She had also insisted that she attend the meeting, although I was not entirely certain of why.

I could have forced my way in by dint of reputation alone. A glance my way was enough to let people know that I was a hero. I chose not to do so. I was intending to act as the face for heroism in the future. A heroism that obeyed at least some semblance of the laws. It didn’t matter that those rules for heroes would be different to the rules that everyone else had to follow.

It didn’t bode well for following other laws if I couldn’t follow guidelines this simple.

I wouldn’t have cared about attending the establishment at all were it not for Songbird’s recommendation. She had done some snooping and discovered that Louis de Sartrons frequented the place. We could have arranged a meeting through his intermediaries.

Songbird suggested that we show up uninvited while he was holding a meal instead.

Songbird, Esme, and I entered the sleek restaurant. The other two were garbed like a lyre bird and a peacock, respectively. They wore elaborate dresses that would not look out of place among members of the nobility. Songbird’s red hair hung loose over her shoulders for once. She almost looked regal, standing tall as she was with her back straight and her chin up.

An attendant with a perpetual storm cloud hovering over them dressed like a chessboard met us near the door with a scroll in hand.

“Greetings, madams,” he bowed low, then stood back up. “This is a place for people of refinement.”

His piercing grey eyes ignored the other two and lingered on me as he spoke.

“Here is our proof of invitation.” Songbird stepped forward and passed a series of documents across to the man. It surprised me how deft he was at handling them without dropping the documents that he already held.

“Very well then,” his lips pressed into a line as he examined the contents, “it appears that you have earned your admittance. However, you have not booked a table in advance.”

“That won’t be an issue. Another patron should be expecting us,” Songbird’s brown eyes twinkled with mischief as she reclaimed our proof of admittance.

The man frowned, then looked towards his parchment.

“I’m afraid that none of the attending patrons denoted the presence of guests,” the tone of his voice dipped. He sounded almost consoling.

“We are here to settle matters with that shark, Louis de Sartrons,” Esme interjected, the lines on her face becoming more haughty as she spoke. “We are not here to argue with one of his cronies.”

Esme presented a strong front, but even I could tell that she was terrified. Her posture was stiff, and her hands were balled into fists. Her eyes kept darting towards the snow dusted streets beside us.

The man looked bored. I doubted that it would be so easy to make him rise to the barb.

After a few moments, however, he paused, stiffened, then narrowed his eyes. “None of the souls in attendance go by that appellation,” he protested.

“Are you certain of that? We only wish for him to be informed of our arrival. He wouldn’t appreciate what would occur if the message arrived late.” Songbird warned.

“Allow me a moment to check the manifests,” the man stated before vanishing into the building.

I was certain the manifests were on the desk directly in front of the entrance, not in any of the rooms or balconies further back. It didn’t matter. We knew Louis of Sartrons was here. The attendant knew that we knew. I’d let him maintain his polite fiction if it was something that was expected of him.

“Still not sure that this is a good idea,” I muttered to Songbird while the three of us lingered outside the open doorway.

“S’about not letting him control the interrogation.”

“Seems antagonistic.”

“It’s also necessary.”

“I know,” I sighed.

Songbird was right, and in this case I wasn’t happy about it. We needed the Circle of Thorns to know that we could track them down if we needed to. There were a few reasons for that. I hoped none of them would ever become relevant.

There was a possibility that Louis de Sartrons would either demand for a meeting to be set up later on his own terms somewhere else, or put us off entirely. Songbird had assured me that the man wouldn’t do either.

She was proven correct a few heartbeats later when the attendant arrived once more, then proceeded to escort us further into the building. The establishment boasted a kind of service that I had only ever read about in theory before and never witnessed in person.

We passed through a maze of corridors and passages threaded between private alcoves. Each alcove featured a different theme. The attendant came to a stop outside a space decorated in greens and blues, with nets hanging from the ceiling and waves painted on the walls. The room smelled of brine.

I felt like I was walking onto a beach as I stepped through the arched doorway.

Louis de Sartrons and two others were seated at the far end of a table that looked like it could play host to more than a dozen. All three of them were making quick work of three individualized platters of fish. Hake, Tuna, trout, some mussels, and calamari as well as a few other sea delicacies that I did not recognize.

“It’s so good of you to join us, Chosen,” the skeleton rapped his knuckle on the table, then raised his wineglass to me.

“We’re here about Esme.” The girl in question bristled from beside me, but said nothing.

Louis de Sartrons pursed his lips.

“Would you like to take a seat?” he put down his wineglass and gestured towards some empty chairs.

“Sure.” All three of us moved towards some unoccupied seats.

The man gave his friends a lingering look before turning his attention back towards us.

“Antonie, could you depart to my office and return with both the documentation pertaining to the affairs of Adele de Anouilh and the pouch belonging to the Chosen?”

The blonde beside Louis rapped her knuckle on the table, then addressed everyone. “Very well, Louis. I will be taking my leave then.”

The blacked haired man beside her did much the same. Both of them stood up. The man picked up two of the platters and removed them from the table as he departed. The woman simply left.

The man returned and was in the process of removing the third platter when Louis spoke up once more.

“This discussion is likely to become involved. Would any of you care for a drink?”

“I’ll have some tea. One of the blends imported from Yan Tei, if you have any,” I requested.

This place is so fancy that I doubt they don’t. I know Cordelia drinks them. I might as well enjoy the experience if this man is paying for it.

“You are fortunate that Les Horizons Lugubres still has any exotic teas in stock. All imports from the Baalite Hegemony have already dried up. Trade between Calernia and the wider world has stalled recently due to conflicts arising beyond the shores,” my interlocutor informed me.

My stomach tied itself in knots. I hoped that the disruption to trade wasn’t my fault, but I wasn’t willing to wager on it.

“I’d appreciate an Arlesite red,” Songbird commented.

“I’ve been informed that the thirteen-o-five vintage of Prière de Fou is currently in vogue among the upper nobility,” Esme sniffed.

The man — who I was assuming was one of Louis’s friends or equals — took note of what we desired and left. It surprised me. I was tempted to ask where the waiters were, but decided against it.

It wasn’t much longer until Antonie returned and placed a stack of documents in front of the man and a pouch in front of me. I opened it and checked the contents against what I recalled should be there. I cheated with Yvette’s notes and paged through them, then compared the length of the new memory to the length of the older existing ones. It wasn’t enough to guarantee that nothing had been changed without a more thorough examination, but it was the best that I could do.

Nothing appeared to be missing.

Antonie departed the room once more.

“I’d burn any copies of these notes,” I tapped on Yvette’s notes for emphasis.

“I assure you that no duplicates of those texts were made.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“Our finest sorcerers were unable to make heads or tails of what was written within them.”

The man returned with a teacup, a steaming teapot, three bottles of wine and three wineglasses. The beverages were placed to the left of each person respectively. It wasn’t long until I inhaled the fruity, fragrant aroma of the tea. I took a small sip and sighed unconsciously. The bitter taste was bliss in my mouth.

“I’m giving the warning all the same.”

Songbird had suggested we waited until they were back in our possession before we passed on a warning, but that we did pass one on just in case. I agreed. It was better to cover all of our bases than to risk the notes presenting a problem for us later.

“Shall we move onto other matters then?” Louis raised an eyebrow in question.

“Lets.”

Louis de Sartrons began to ask Esme a series of involved questions relating to a large pile of documents. Her answers were reticent at first, but she quickly gained confidence. I did my best to pay attention to the discussion, going so far as to use innovate to follow along once it moved onto subjects that I didn’t quite understand.

The interrogation lasted a while and appeared to be related to foreign trade agreements. I wasn’t certain of why there was so much interest being placed on these trade agreements, but Esme seemed not only willing but also eager to answer.

It wasn’t long until she was volunteering information unasked for and putting together connections based on presented evidence that nobody else had reached.

I suspected that Esme had learned something about this interrogation that made it far more personal for her. Personal in a way that made her happy to help.

“Can you explain to me what this is about?” I interjected.

“The reason the Circle of Thorns sought out Adele de Anouilh is due to investigation into her family’s business relations with Mercantis. We have been investigating the allegations raised by Cordelia Hasenbach in regard to the activities of the Pravus bank, among other concerns. Her family is one among the nobility that is implicated by evidence which we have acquired. The evidence we possess suggests that they are involved at more than merely a surface level.” Louis de Sartrons explained.

Esme rapped her knuckles on the table thrice. Loius’s lips raised up into a razor-thin grin.

“I have cast aside my name of birth and instead go by the name of Esme,” she declared.

They picked up their discussion once more. It steadily became more and more involved. Time passed. The hour grew late. More refreshments were brought in, along with additional piles of documentation.

Esme poured over it all like an oil spill in water.

She had become so lost in the work she was conducting that she had begun to lower her guard. Her shoulders relaxed, and her eyes filled with energy. It filled me with melancholy. This discussion was the happiest I had ever seen her.

“The Circle of Thorns thanks you for your contributions. Your testimonies will prove to be invaluable,” Louis de Sartrons praised.

The sun had started to set. I realized that the interrogation had ended long ago. The documents that Esme was examining now were unrelated to the earlier interrogation. I suspected that the man was making a subtle recruitment pitch.

It was time for us to leave.

“I wish you luck in your efforts to bring justice to these agents of Praes,” Esme replied.

The jubilation that Esme currently exhibited would have filled me with trepidation towards the man. That is, they would have, if my impression of him was not already so negative.

“The Circle of Thorns does not often extend an invitation towards someone without a more extensive waiting period. I am willing to consider offering you one in light of this demonstration.”

“I will give the matter the consideration it is due,” Esme demurred.

Is she really considering this?

I frowned.

The man had hunted her down on the streets. Surely she wouldn’t consider working with him?

Esme and I stood up to leave. Esme had already stepped through the door, and I was just about to reach it when I realized that Songbird had remained seated. I turned towards her and raised an eyebrow.

“I will be along momentarily. There are a few more issues of an unrelated nature that I wish to discuss with Loius de Sartrons personally.”

I raised another eyebrow at her. She gave a minute nod.

I didn’t know what she wanted with the man, but it was a subtle sign that she needed me to trust her.

A voice at the back of my head warned me that I shouldn’t do it. That I was taking too big of a risk. I stilled it. This was her chance to prove herself better… I just hoped that I wasn’t making a mistake.

“Repeat that,” I blinked.

“Y’need to make noise on the street today. Spend some time with Yvie, then go out and help people.”

Songbird was leaning on the door frame, halfway out of the room. She was planning to leave sometime soon and arrange the next part of the plan.

I didn’t know what that was.

“Can you explain why?”

“S’what you should be doing.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

I was reluctant to go along with this. Esme joining us had complicated everything, and not in a good way. It meant that Songbird had to keep all of her planning close to her chest again. It was a struggle for me to not complain about it.

Furthermore, Esme was unpleasant to be around. She only did the bare minimum to be allowed to stay, and hadn’t mellowed out much at all. There was only so much more of her nastiness that I was prepared to tolerate. I’d given her some leeway due to the circumstances that led to her seeking shelter with us. That leeway was only going so far.

“I’ll be around,” Songbird left.

I made my way to Yvette’s room and knocked on the door.

Having an excuse to spend more time with her was still a positive, even if I hated sitting around. Songbird wanted me to fill a specific niche in the story she was trying to weave, and that niche wasn’t the Role of a rogue. It had made the entire tour of the Starlit Cloister awkward. I’d needed to ask myself what actions I would take if the others were not there. I wasn’t there in the Role of an infiltrator, I was there in the Role of Taylor the priestess.

“Good morning, ma,” Yvette greeted me.

Her hair was a mess and her eyes were still grungy. It appeared that she had only just woken up. She’d started to put on a growth spurt. I suspected that in a couple of months she would at least come up to my nose.

Yvette’s birthday was in Spring, and I was still deliberating on what to do for her. The people of Procer did not celebrate birthdays, but she was my kid and I wanted to do something for her. It might not be a tradition that she was used to… but she would probably appreciate the gesture regardless.

“I’m going to be spending the day with you again. I’ll be out in the afternoon, but is there anything you want to do with me in the morning?”

Yvette’s eyes lit up.

“Yes there is Now that I’ve got my notes back I’d love to-” she paused, took a breath and then continued. “Yes, there is. Now that I’ve got my notes back, I’d love to see if you can replicate the tabula rasa effect. It isn’t quite the same thing as what you were doing before, but it’s close enough to help my research.”

“I don’t think it’s safe for me to do that,” I pointed out.

I wasn’t even sure if I could achieve that kind of effect, either. It would take a lot of Light to renew the fabric of the Pattern that way. As much as the others liked to tease me about it, I wasn’t actually an Angel.

“Oh, well, that’s okay,” she mumbled. Her eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m allowed to conduct more experiments though if you’re providing oversight?”

“I think we should wait on those until you have a proper lab,” I smiled at her. “The owners won’t be happy with either of us if you’re blowing holes in their establishment.”

“Fine,” she pouted. “So, what are we going to do today?”

“Leaving the decision to me?”

“I can’t think of something to do,” she admitted. “I want to progress my own research, but I’m not able to do that unless we are either out of town, or we settle down somewhere permanently. You promised that one day we’ll have our own place, and I’ll have space to myself. I’m holding you to that.”

I winced. Our constant travelling had not been good for her research. She never had the opportunity to conduct experiments with proper equipment. I suspected that she would work wonders once she had access to specialized tools.

“How about we talk and browse the shops. Songbird wants me to be out and visible anyhow. This can double up as both duties.”

“That sounds good. I’ll just get changed. I’m a real mess at the moment.”

I closed the door and waited for her for a few hails. Yvette came out dressed in a thick brown woollen jacket with mittens, trousers, and boots with a scarf wrapped around her neck. She looked almost like a baby grizzly bear. Both of us were prepared to leave. The others had all already gone out on one mission or another. That left only us two.

We stepped outside onto the street. My two guards trailed along with us. One before me and the other behind. They remained silent, professional. It stood in stark contrast to how easy going they were anywhere else.

The air was clammy, and a pea soup fog clung to the air. It was hard to see more than a few feet ahead.

There weren’t many people out, but that would change as the sun rose.

“Are you sure we need to go out now? It’s cold and wet and miserable,” Yvette complained.

“We can stay at home if you want to,” I answered, amused.

“Wait, really?” she stumbled. I reached out to catch her before she face planted in the snow.

“We’re doing this for you, not for me. It’s about seeing if there’s anything useful for you. But if you don’t want to shop…” I trailed off.

“Oh, well. No, it’s fine,” she hugged her arms close to herself as she walked.

We reached an intersection and took the road to the left of us that sloped further uphill. The further up you went, the more extravagant everything became and the better the goods available to buy.

“Have you considered what else you can do with Call?”

It was a subject that I hadn’t broached before, although I was curious about it. It felt like a decision that was personal to her. I wouldn’t be pressuring her one way or the other.

“I have, but I’ve decided not to do anything else with it,” she enunciated each word slowly.

“Why?”

“I want it to matter when I use it. I suspect that I could summon other entities besides you. Demons, lesser ‘gods’ or possibly even an Angel are all different entities I’ve considered. There’s even someone that I suspect I could communicate with. I feel a… resonance when I analyse the Titan runes pulling me towards the south. I suspect that one of them is still alive, and we could talk to him or her. The problem is I’d weaken the strength of Call by diluting its purpose. Laurence talked about focusing on a single thing. I’m going to do that.”

“But I’m always here for you.” I told her gently.

“I know,” her cheeks flushed and she avoided meeting my gaze. “Perhaps-”

“You don’t need to justify the decision to me,” I whispered to her and hugged her with one arm.

Her voice trailed off.

It was touching. Warm in a way that pushed the cold back far, far, away. I wasn’t sure if it was the right decision to make. It meant that if she ever truly needed to call for me, she would have a way to do so. It would make her own research harder to do if she limited herself that way, but the decision was not mine to make.

I suspected that this wasn’t the intended purpose of Call. It felt to me as if it was supposed to be used to send a summons to higher powers and ask them if they were willing to offer assistance. The idea of Yvette summoning the Dead King over for tea almost made me chuckle.

“We should travel south then when we have the time in the future,” I suggested.

“That sounds good,” she perked up.

We continued on our way, inspecting stalls and purchasing the occasional item. I stopped frequently and healed those who were injured. It had taken me some effort and a hefty dose of innovate, but I’d found a way to heal multiple people at the same time and at range. The more people I tried to heal, the harder it became, but it was something that I was committed to learning. Sooner or later there would be another major disaster and I wanted to be able to mitigate it.

We left the Upper Yearning and moved into the city slums. My help was both more necessary and more appreciated among the poor. I wasn’t concerned about either of us being attacked — it was easy to maintain a small protective barrier — and even if I didn’t do as much, I doubted that anyone would attack me. It was good work — the right kind of work — and every person I helped left me feeling just a little lighter.

The mosaic that was my Name became clearer with every person I helped. I felt like I was scratching an itch. It was like there was a silent voice at the back of my head whispering encouragement and telling me that this was what I’d been chosen to do.

It was late in the afternoon when a horse almost galloped into a group of people up ahead of us from just around a corner. I wasn’t sure how none of the group saw the approaching threat.

“Tay-Taylor, can you stop that!” Blaise called out in warning.

I almost didn’t see the animal. Without the shouted cry of Blaise, I would have missed it. I raised a barrier of Light around the group to prevent the collision, only for the poor animal to smash into it.

We stopped to heal both the horse and the rider, who had been thrown onto the ground.

He was a tall, pale, thin man with long, wavy brown hair. He had a narrow face and his skin looked unhealthy. It featured many yellow splotches and some bruising from the fall. He looked like a mop standing upside down. His health concerned me. His green eyes softened as I stepped beside him.

Light suffused me and flowed into the man.

The bruises faded away, the splotches did not.

“My apologies for waylaying you like this, sister.” His voice was deep and thrummed with energy as he spoke. It was at odds with his frame.

“Be more careful next time,” I admonished.

“I do not know what madness overcame my mount.” He paused and examined me, then his eyes widened. “Would you be the one that the Saint of Swords called the Aspirant?”

“I am.”

“She urged me to seek you out in my quest before she departed on her own journey. I am Pascal, the Reformist.” There was something odd about his voice, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. It was as if the world became lighter whenever he spoke.

My shoulders loosened.

The man smiled and held out a hand. I took it and pulled him to his feet.

“You’re from Bayeux?”

“The brothers and sisters there drove me out when I decried their many misdeeds.”

My thoughts spun in circles. Surely Songbird could not have predicted this? She must have wanted me helping others out today for a different reason. It didn’t matter. The man was here, and it appeared that he wanted to help.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m sister Taylor, the Aspirant.”

“The Saint of Swords informed me that you intend to bring change to the dusty halls of the House of Light. Is this true?”

“It is. The Holies have left me disappointed.”

“Then let the two of us see what good we can achieve together, sister.” His grin widened.

The smile was filled with warmth. It would have been attractive had he been in better health.

“Lets,” I agreed, smiling back in return.