He sighed with relief for what had to be the thousandth time that night.
A chill wind blew through the Goblet. He glanced over his shoulder towards the house to note that the lights were still on; the Dauntless were still celebrating his release, what few of them were home. He shook his head mirthfully, turned back to regard the valley that was spread out before him and cloaked in mist and fog. It wasn’t until he heard footsteps approaching from down the street that he shifted again as he leaned on the stone railing. One glance was enough.
The Marshal sidled up alongside him, stood next to him, rested her manicured hands next to his.
Osric grunted. “Evenin’, Marshal. Hells can I do for you?â€
“Not much, I’m afraid. Truth be told, I am here more or less to congratulate you on your acquittal.â€
He snorted. “Acquittal? I was found guilty of at least one charge. Dragged m’name through the mud, you ‘n’ the others did. Dishonorable discharge. You your own self made it gods-damned clear what you think of me.â€
The woman smirked. “And yet here you are. Free. Unharmed. At liberty to go about your own business. To live your life, as it were. Miraculous, that, given your crimes and how similar… hmm… achievements have earned so many of your former fellows in the Flames a noose of their own.â€
The Lominsan eyed her sidelong, straightened. Wheels started turning. Something or someone struck a light in his head and gave life to suspicion.. and clarity.
“What’re you sayin’? That the rulin’ was rigged?â€
The Marshall tilted her head back and the back of one hand rose to cover her mouth as she positively tittered. Her laughter was crystalline, as though someone had struck a glass windchime and set it into motion.
“Of course it was rigged, Sergeant. However else were we to retain your services? After all….â€
The woman’s voice dropped an octave or two, and her smile was a devious one as she turned to regard the midlander. The very air seemed to congeal around her as she spoke, motes of dust… or ash… gathering to cling to her form, a form which grew in mass and size, elongated, gained a few feet in height. Osric recoiled at the sight, tripped over his heels and fell ass first onto the cobblestones. He crawled backwards as best he could, hand over hand until he found himself with his back to a stone bench.
The woman who was not a woman, the Hyur who was an Elezen, grinned mercilessly.
“...you’ve an appointment to keep.â€
â€Pierre.â€
The White Needle bowed. It was an elegant thing, full of grace and flourish… as befitting a former noble of House Durendaire.
‘Former’ because this man had been dead for decades. What stood before Osric now, the midlander knew, was little more and no less than a Crow, an abomination of a tormented soul gifted and cursed with a corpse by which it was chained to the lands of living. ‘Gifted’ because they were possessed of supernatural abilities, abilities which happened to include….
“You… y’never left… never left Ul’dah, you were here… you…â€
The wheels in his head stopped turning, as if he’d heard the click of one last tumbler falling into place.
“You requested assistance from Ortolf,†spoke Pierre as he straightened to inspect the state of his nails, “and he saw to it that our captain stationed me here. To pose as you, as it were. I took the liberty during my stay to look into the current state of affairs. To be more specific, I looked into your state of affairs, Sergeant. After all, Forgehands might be a brute, but he is not as dim-witted as our dear Gnasher. Your mention of the Immortal Flames did not go unnoticed.â€
“Tch.â€
“Yes, I never left Ul’dah. Yes, I spied on you, upon your return. Imagine our surprise when we learned that you were to be court-martialed! On trial for your life… why, we couldn’t have that. You are too valuable to risk, far too valuable to lose to a corrupt judicial system.â€
Osric swallowed. “You… the Marshal… you posed as the Marshal… took her place… had her killed….â€
Pierre Glaisyer ceased his inspection to glance at the man and scoff at him, “Of course we had her killed. I was needed in her place, to influence deliberations, to insure that you would survive the ordeal. ‘Twould not do to have the woman returned to her station afterward, spouting tall tales of mysterious shapeshifters and conspiracy to see you acquitted. You would not serve nearly so well as our tool were you hounded all your life for escaping justice.â€
The Hyur ground his teeth, balled and clenched his hands into fists. “Why…? Why, gods damn you? She was innocent, she--!â€
“She was slated for death the moment you demanded a barrister.†The Elezen shrugged, horrifically dismissive. “When it became evident, when you made it abundantly clear, that the only means by which you might win your freedom for good was through the law, by running the gauntlet as it were… we did so appreciate your turn of phrase, by the by, ‘shadows creeping through your precious pissing palace’, the alliteration is exquisite… then it became necessary for us to intervene. At that moment, she was slated for death. Mine might have done the deed, but rest assured, Sergeant, the responsibility for this collateral is on your hands.â€
In. Out. In. Out. He breathed. He waited until he’d calmed. Not significantly… but enough. Enough so that he could think.
“...what now?â€
Pierre raised a hand and twirled it with another flourish. He shifted again, lost mass, shrank, changed. Mere moments later, he was the Marshal again. Looked like her. Spoke like her.
“Now, you return to your duties. You are to resume your training, three suns a fortnight, until you are deemed ready or until you and the other Gifted are called upon for the finale with Epinoch. What you do with your spare time is entirely up to you, so long as you stand ever ready for the captain’s summons. And remember....â€
The woman glanced menacingly at the house.
“...your friends and your family are not always sequestered behind the safety of Korofi’s wards. They do come and go. ‘Twould be a shame if you or any of the others were to renege on our understanding. Are we understood?â€
Gods damn you. Gods damn you all.
“Aye. What of you?â€
The Marshal sighed theatrically, chin resting on the knuckles of one hand. “Alas, my task shall see me confined to this wretched place for moons yet. We cannot permit the Immortal Flames to suspect foul play, and as such the woman cannot disappear so soon after your court martial. I shall play the part to the best of my abilities, and shall rejoin the others as soon as I am able.â€
She - he - stepped forward and knelt, smiling, to caress Osric’s cheek.
“Rotunda Crow owns your leash now, little man. Do behave. Come when called. Piss and shite when and where he commands you to. And above all else, do not bite the hand that feeds you.â€
A chill wind blew through the Goblet. He glanced over his shoulder towards the house to note that the lights were still on; the Dauntless were still celebrating his release, what few of them were home. He shook his head mirthfully, turned back to regard the valley that was spread out before him and cloaked in mist and fog. It wasn’t until he heard footsteps approaching from down the street that he shifted again as he leaned on the stone railing. One glance was enough.
The Marshal sidled up alongside him, stood next to him, rested her manicured hands next to his.
Osric grunted. “Evenin’, Marshal. Hells can I do for you?â€
“Not much, I’m afraid. Truth be told, I am here more or less to congratulate you on your acquittal.â€
He snorted. “Acquittal? I was found guilty of at least one charge. Dragged m’name through the mud, you ‘n’ the others did. Dishonorable discharge. You your own self made it gods-damned clear what you think of me.â€
The woman smirked. “And yet here you are. Free. Unharmed. At liberty to go about your own business. To live your life, as it were. Miraculous, that, given your crimes and how similar… hmm… achievements have earned so many of your former fellows in the Flames a noose of their own.â€
The Lominsan eyed her sidelong, straightened. Wheels started turning. Something or someone struck a light in his head and gave life to suspicion.. and clarity.
“What’re you sayin’? That the rulin’ was rigged?â€
The Marshall tilted her head back and the back of one hand rose to cover her mouth as she positively tittered. Her laughter was crystalline, as though someone had struck a glass windchime and set it into motion.
“Of course it was rigged, Sergeant. However else were we to retain your services? After all….â€
The woman’s voice dropped an octave or two, and her smile was a devious one as she turned to regard the midlander. The very air seemed to congeal around her as she spoke, motes of dust… or ash… gathering to cling to her form, a form which grew in mass and size, elongated, gained a few feet in height. Osric recoiled at the sight, tripped over his heels and fell ass first onto the cobblestones. He crawled backwards as best he could, hand over hand until he found himself with his back to a stone bench.
The woman who was not a woman, the Hyur who was an Elezen, grinned mercilessly.
“...you’ve an appointment to keep.â€
â€Pierre.â€
The White Needle bowed. It was an elegant thing, full of grace and flourish… as befitting a former noble of House Durendaire.
‘Former’ because this man had been dead for decades. What stood before Osric now, the midlander knew, was little more and no less than a Crow, an abomination of a tormented soul gifted and cursed with a corpse by which it was chained to the lands of living. ‘Gifted’ because they were possessed of supernatural abilities, abilities which happened to include….
“You… y’never left… never left Ul’dah, you were here… you…â€
The wheels in his head stopped turning, as if he’d heard the click of one last tumbler falling into place.
“You requested assistance from Ortolf,†spoke Pierre as he straightened to inspect the state of his nails, “and he saw to it that our captain stationed me here. To pose as you, as it were. I took the liberty during my stay to look into the current state of affairs. To be more specific, I looked into your state of affairs, Sergeant. After all, Forgehands might be a brute, but he is not as dim-witted as our dear Gnasher. Your mention of the Immortal Flames did not go unnoticed.â€
“Tch.â€
“Yes, I never left Ul’dah. Yes, I spied on you, upon your return. Imagine our surprise when we learned that you were to be court-martialed! On trial for your life… why, we couldn’t have that. You are too valuable to risk, far too valuable to lose to a corrupt judicial system.â€
Osric swallowed. “You… the Marshal… you posed as the Marshal… took her place… had her killed….â€
Pierre Glaisyer ceased his inspection to glance at the man and scoff at him, “Of course we had her killed. I was needed in her place, to influence deliberations, to insure that you would survive the ordeal. ‘Twould not do to have the woman returned to her station afterward, spouting tall tales of mysterious shapeshifters and conspiracy to see you acquitted. You would not serve nearly so well as our tool were you hounded all your life for escaping justice.â€
The Hyur ground his teeth, balled and clenched his hands into fists. “Why…? Why, gods damn you? She was innocent, she--!â€
“She was slated for death the moment you demanded a barrister.†The Elezen shrugged, horrifically dismissive. “When it became evident, when you made it abundantly clear, that the only means by which you might win your freedom for good was through the law, by running the gauntlet as it were… we did so appreciate your turn of phrase, by the by, ‘shadows creeping through your precious pissing palace’, the alliteration is exquisite… then it became necessary for us to intervene. At that moment, she was slated for death. Mine might have done the deed, but rest assured, Sergeant, the responsibility for this collateral is on your hands.â€
In. Out. In. Out. He breathed. He waited until he’d calmed. Not significantly… but enough. Enough so that he could think.
“...what now?â€
Pierre raised a hand and twirled it with another flourish. He shifted again, lost mass, shrank, changed. Mere moments later, he was the Marshal again. Looked like her. Spoke like her.
“Now, you return to your duties. You are to resume your training, three suns a fortnight, until you are deemed ready or until you and the other Gifted are called upon for the finale with Epinoch. What you do with your spare time is entirely up to you, so long as you stand ever ready for the captain’s summons. And remember....â€
The woman glanced menacingly at the house.
“...your friends and your family are not always sequestered behind the safety of Korofi’s wards. They do come and go. ‘Twould be a shame if you or any of the others were to renege on our understanding. Are we understood?â€
Gods damn you. Gods damn you all.
“Aye. What of you?â€
The Marshal sighed theatrically, chin resting on the knuckles of one hand. “Alas, my task shall see me confined to this wretched place for moons yet. We cannot permit the Immortal Flames to suspect foul play, and as such the woman cannot disappear so soon after your court martial. I shall play the part to the best of my abilities, and shall rejoin the others as soon as I am able.â€
She - he - stepped forward and knelt, smiling, to caress Osric’s cheek.
“Rotunda Crow owns your leash now, little man. Do behave. Come when called. Piss and shite when and where he commands you to. And above all else, do not bite the hand that feeds you.â€
![[Image: 1qVSsTp.png]](http://i.imgur.com/1qVSsTp.png)
