Chronicles of a Sultansworn in (the) Heat [open]

[Coatleque]

No more than three days after the final events of What You Are In The Dark

---

Silence.

 

If nothing else she could always count on her captain's office to be quiet. Long red curtains swayed in the breeze from the window behind his chair. The corners of a few stray papers curled upwards but refused to lift past the weight of a leather folio resting upon the pile. Coatleque's eyes slowly trailed to a few tendrils of down swaying at the base of a quill pen that had rolled to the side of the inkwell. Her attention was barely drawn by the clearing of his throat.

 

"I must say your reports are never bereft of detail, Ser Crofte."

 

The man's eyes could be seen over the final page by the woman sitting on the other side of the desk. Her hair was uncharacteristically pulled to one side of her head and held in place by a bandage which wrapped around to the other side. One arm rested in a sling upon her lap. Despite these injuries, which were rather minor compared to some others, she chose to appear in uniform sans one gauntlet. She managed to look him in the eyes for the barest of moments. A courtesy of habit if nothing more. "Thank you Sir." she replied dryly.

 

His brow quirked as the page lowered to meet its brethren. Whether the statement was intended as a compliment or not had seemingly gone over his subordinate's head. The slow sigh of resignation which followed had even less impact. "It is over then. The man has fled Eorzea and escaped justice."

 

She did not look back to him, merely swallowing.

"Ser Crofte?"

 

"I did what I was necessary to protect our people." Her voice did not change. There was no lift of defiance nor waver of emotion. Just a dry acknowledgement of her part played before the end of of a very long and wearying trial.

 

"I was not judging your decision." he replied while staring her down. Eventually the man reclined and looked away. Fingers gripping the arms of his chair. "Where is Deneith now?"

 

"Unknown, Sir."

 

He glanced back to her with a careful eye as if gauging the truth of her words before chewing the inside of his cheek. The man stood and turned his back to her to look down on the city from the window. "What happened to our eager, young squire Crofte? Usually you have so much more to say during our little chats."

 

"I do learn, Sir."

 

"Clearly so." He turned back to the desk and flipped the leather cover back over the pile of papers. "You cannot return to La Noscea." he stated with some authority. Now she looked at him through something of a daze. "That was the deal to keep the status quo. Your exile being a small price for peace, don't you think?"

 

Coatleque closed her eyes and nodded quietly.

 

"If the Maelstrom catches you there, they are authorized to shoot on sight. You do understand, yes?"

 

Another silent nod.

 

He retook his seat and leaned forward over the desk. Another awkward silence fell over the room as she awaited some form of judgement that neglected to arrive. Coatleque looked up to the man across the desk from her with a puzzled expression. Her mouth opened to speak but she hesitated, the request which came forth was not at all what she intended. "With your permission, Sir, I would like leave to visit the Black Shroud."

 

"Can you avoid causing another diplomatic incident?" he asked.

"Aye, Sir."

 

There was another sigh of consideration before a relenting nod. "After all this, I believe you could do with the time away. No more than a sevenday, understood? We need you here, Ser Crofte."

 

"Thank you, Sir." She found herself standing then, as if she had some pressing business which took priority. Her reflexes stopped her though. Turning back to the desk she saluted with her uninjured hand. "If there was nothing further, Sir..."

 

The captain returned her salute before taking up the mass of papers she had left for him once more. "If there is, you will be summoned. Dismissed." Turning slowly, she limped for the door.

[Coatleque]

A small, dark mahogany chest sat opened upon the desk. Nestled upon the felt padding inside lay the stone. A rough square of aquamarine with the same white, etched shield symbol common to others of its ilk. Beside the small box lay a hand with upturned palm. A matching roughly cut precious stone held aloft as if for comparison. And in the dim-lighted silence of the room a decision had yet to be made.

 

Rules were made not to be broken, and among the brethren in the Order there was one common understanding impressed upon their earliest training. That nobody was to carry the soul of a companion, friend, or anyone else they had known in life. The stones they carried were but vessels. A spark of the essence of every man before would leave its mark, add to its experience, shape its oft times forgotten sentience. A sentience that still held memories, desires. Grievances.

 

The aetheric ties made between two souls in life could persist even through death. Such ties may become manifest as a feeling of being watched. Hearing whispers in emotionally significant locations to the living. Seeing dust caught in the moonlight taking shape momentarily only to be whisked away by the slightest breeze. To the more rational man such occurrences are simply waved away as the results of heavy meals at unusual hours. Or simply ignored if noticed at all.

 

What happens when such ties are more focused, however? When two souls with unreconciled pasts are allowed to influence one another beyond the physical veil of flesh and bone? While one remains limited by its yet unclaimed mortality the other is free of all material and moral constraints. It is then that the influence of one over the other may become a contest of wills. And when the vessel that yet remains in Eorzea proves the weaker due to emotions, regret, guilt?

 

The risk is too great. The soul stones are intended to help train and guide the bearer through their own path in life. When a soul returns to the aether its impact on the world is ended. The course of life is left to those who still draw breath and the departed are allowed to rest finally from their burdens. It is the natural order of things.

 

Varys Walker. Ser Walker - or rather "Lord Varys" as he preferred to be called - was the prior holder of the stone that rested within the palm. A self-centred and boorish man who did not earn his title but rather bought it. Remnants of an age where the Order was filled with more aristocrats than servants. The man had died alone in his bed surrounded by his wealth and left no mark on Thanalan's history worth mentioning. To the observant, however, it may be said that his pride had been passed on in some measure. A characteristic that might only be noticed by those who knew the stone's bearer in past times.

 

The hand lifted and drew near to the second stone. One might have expected some sort of acknowledgement or interaction between the two. There was nothing. Just two chiselled crystals of no discerning difference. The one was held aloft as the decision was weighed once more. To continue as one was, or to break the rule for the possibility of momentary gain? Out of the corner of the eye a gleam shone from the stone in the background as if it had sensed the question and gave its approving wink.

 

There was a slight incline of the palm and the stone slid off the side and landed on the felt below with barely a thud. In an instance the stones places were traded and then compared side to side again. Slender fingers closed over the soulstone followed by eyes as they began to re-attune to one another. Shared memories of the recent past came back into forethought before being consciously pushed aside while one will strove against the other.

 

Coatleque was aware of her decision to take the stone, the weight of her own grief over past events, a suddenly incredible thirst for ale (of all things), followed by darkness.

[Coatleque]

Confusion...

 

There was smoke in the distance. The view was from the bow of a small ship as it sailed further from the coast. The plume was seen clearly from the edge of the rail before sinking slowly to the deck. A worm's eye view from the floor. Dark shapes gathered round from above as familiar voices called out their distress.

 

Anxiety...

 

A tall manor at night with windows aglow from candle light. Two figures block the light from the top floor and embrace before slinking below view. "A waste of time! Why delay your duties for personal trysts?!"

 

Consternation...

 

A windowless gaelor's cell where another familiar yet shadowed figure lay upon a stiff cot. "Stupid girl, what has she done now?"

 

Surprise...

 

Fighting below the streets against an unexpected foe in defense of an equally unexpected ally.

 

Contentment...

 

As the dust began to settle in the familiar back roads of the city, it was evident that there could have been no other way. The job was done, disaster averted yet again. She could not have done better herself.

 

[align=center]***[/align]

 

Light. Blinding light. And tapping. Prodding. Coatleque awoke with a start and shielded her eyes from the morning sunlight that was now pouring over the goblet. A rather indignant Blade was pushing on her shoulder with the toe of his boot. "Oy! No vagrancy! Get cher arse up b'fore I toss ye in a cell!"

 

Her head pounding, she groaned and nodded in compliance before trying to right herself. She had no memory of the last night beyond when she exchanged the soul stones in her office. Momentary panic set in before her hand shot to her pockets to find the stone still on her person. There was a sigh of relief before she finally made to stand and address the Blade. A mistake. Her head spun and dinner decided it was time to leave in the most expedient way possible. Her eyes grew wide before turning abruptly around and leaning over the side of the walkway they were on.

 

Luckily for her it was still early in the day and nobody was below them. The Blade tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for her to compose herself. Not particularly caring of her physical well being, and content that she could walk her way out of here herself, he grunted and pointed in the direction of the gates. "Best be gone before I come round again. You 'ear me!?" She slumped back to the ground and winced in the sunlight before nodding. A few minutes later she could finally stand without wretching and began plodding back towards the city.

[Coatleque]

It was not until Coatleque was back at the inn and soaking in a hot bath that she was finally able to breath a sigh of relief. Her body ached and she still could not recall the previous night. Perhaps it was better this way. Mistress Momodi greeted her as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, though perhaps it was her wisdom that had held her tongue. The head of the Adventurer's guild in Ul'dah had seen many strange things in her own time. A drunken paladin should seem like business as usual.

 

Leaning her head back against the edge of the tub her thoughts began to drift again. She had told no one of her decision to swap the soulstones. Probably the first impulsive thing she had done in years, and one that she still was not sure was right. All she knew is that she would never track down Banurein or even Jameson herself. She was the one who took her orders and carried them out like a good pawn should. Natalie, however...

 

The rest of the morning had been calm. Since the initial episode she had felt no different. Perhaps slightly ashamed at waking up in a gutter, but otherwise she was still herself. It was a wonder that anyone would make such a deal out of this at all. Unfounded rumors. Worrisome superstitions. That is all it was.

 

So her mind turned back to the immediate task at hand. Her trip to Gridania had yielded nothing. The locals proved tight lipped and wary of foreigners; Rather the opposite of the norm in Ul'dah. The few questions she did get out only had her reported to the Adders - reports that led to a rather lengthy interview by a mid-ranking officer.

 

[align=center]***[/align]

 

She sat compliantly with this Lieutenant Dauremant as he grilled her on who she was, where she was from, why she was interrogating the locals with her disquieting demeanor and...

 

"Disquieting? Really, Leftennant, is that what they've told you? Or are you simply trying to provoke an outburst on my part?"

 

"What I am trying to do is to halt a potential spy from walking out of here with sensitive information. This is not Ul'dah, if that really is where you are from... highlander, and you are not entitled to any legal comforts the city affords you. Now, shall we dispense with these games?"

 

Her expression soured at that, reading the clear disdain in his voice. She crossed her arms and looked away from him. "Fine. I am Lady Crofte of her Resplendence's royal guard. I am here investigating a missing person, a noble from Thanalan. Now that I have dispensed of mine own act I sincerely hope you can afford me the same courtesy."

 

The Elezen showed no reaction to her admission. "A Sultansworn? Here? Forgive me if I call that 'Bo shite. Why would you not have checked in with the Adders immediately?"

 

"You will believe what you will, all I can do is speak the truth. I am not here on official capacity, Sir. My purpose is... personal. Call it 'paladin' business if you will. Unless Free Paladins are not welcome within the Shoud now either."

 

He shook his head. "Paladin or not, you are an outsider, and they are not welcome. I sympathize with your mission, but if your noble has fled here then he was meant to disappear."

 

Coatleque stood. "That is unacceptable!"

"That is not your place to decide what is or is not."

"You do not even know whom I am looking for! What if it was a child lost on her way? You would abandon her to the elemental's fate?"

"We would have found her ourselves long before your arrival in that case!"

 

There was a pause as the two wills battled for an upper hand from across the room. Coatleque took a deep breath before finally backing down. "It is no child I am looking for. I was searching for Rondelet and Clement."

 

The sound of the two names finally elicited a response from the Elezen. He turned sharply towards her.

"And where did you hear those names?"

"The man I am looking for may have known one or both."

"Hrmpf. For his sake, I certainly hope now."

"... And why is that?"

"Solelle Rondelet was naught but a scum sucking assassin for hire. Clement? He was one of ours, tracking her down."

"Was?"

"They are dead now."

"Of course they are."

 

There was another pause as the man reflected on his lost comrade. It seemed to Coatleque they may have been close. She was about to offer her condolences when he spoke up again. "A shame really. He joined us only about five cycles back, arrived from Ishgard. Such a promising career cut short. At least he did her in at the same time. Suppose she did not want to come quietly and resisted arrest." He sighed then looked back to her. "That is all we know of the matter. I am sorry your mission here was for naught, but I would suggest you leave now. Gridania is no place for your kind."

 

[align=center]***[/align]

 

The scene replayed in her mind as the heat of the bath rose around her. While not particularly attracted to Elezen, she had to admit the Leftenant had a certain charm. There was a twinge as if she had missed an opportunity that night, a slight regret at the back of her mind which she shook off just as suddenly as it arrived to make way for another memory - Matron Anduron's words.

 

[align=center]"Taeros? An upstart house that arrived around, oh five cycles ago?"[/align]

 

That was the connection which had eluded her. Taeros and Clement arrived at the same time. Coatleque pulled herself forward by the rim of the tub to stand and perpare for the afternoon. Everything was now pushing her northward. She had only the captain to deal with...

[Coatleque]

It was towards the end of the day now, after most of the city's business had been concluded and the Bazaars had begun to close when Coatleque finally made her way to the Heart of the Sworn. She had requested a meeting with the Captain herself, stressing it was important but without saying why or for what. And while she had built her career around on punctuality, this being early evening now one might have considered her late. Stranger still is that this notion did not particularly bother her this eve.

 

Saluting the guards, she stepped up to the door of the Captain's office and wrapped the knuckles of her gauntlet off the wood. She waited for the familiar voice to respond from within. "Enter". The captain was out of his usual seat, standing and looking out of the window to the setting sun. His eyes squinted but his expression was absent the usual lines of worry and weight of his office. She closed the door behind her but did not stand to the side like usual. She saluted him as well before crossing the office straight for the first chair in front of his desk. He gave her a sidelong glance and a nod only. "Late. Unusual for you."

 

She stopped with one hand on the back of the chair mid-pull. "Aye, i was held up by a situation down at the palace gate. Just a drunk who wouldn't leave. He's sobering up in cell three for the time."

 

Jenlyns gave a small short, looking amused. "If that is the worst of our troubles as the day closes, let us consider our day a fortunate one, hm?" He turned from his view to face her then, an odd expression curling his lips as he regarded her. "You asked for this meeting. What can I do for you, Ser Crofte?"

 

She had meanwhile resumed her motion without waiting for the seat to be offered. Crossing her legs and brushing a string of hair from her eyes nonchalantly. "I did, didn't I? Ser, to be frank, I would like to request permission to take a detachment to Coerthas. A few squires at least, perhaps more. What with diplomacy opened again I think it prudent to have agents ready to secure trade for the Sultanate."

 

Both brows raised into a look of surprise. The man scratched his chin in consideration before answering her. "I am impressed, Crofte. Forward thinking. I was just pondering on what to do with our new allies since Her Grace herself had made the trip recently. I have always thought you were one of those who did not wish to leave the sands."

 

Coatleque's mouth twitched slightly. "I prefer stability." She replied calmly. "Recent events prove it may not be wise to remain so rooted though. The alliance is rather fragile right now, we may be more comfortable having agents close by to respond. And since I have been barred from La Noscea..."

 

The captain shifted positions at her words, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall with his back to the window. "The Noscean affair has cooled considerably. I suspect perhaps in a few moons even your exile may be reconsidered." His voice dipped. "A lot has happened."

 

She looked away. "Yes well, it is not as if I will be blowing up an Ishgardian cathedral. I'd be interested in seeing how these knights of theirs compare to us. I've also heard rumor of a wanted man in the area; I'd hate to think of him escaping justice still."

 

He smirked and nodded. "Very well. You make convincing arguments, Crofte. I cannot say I have any arguments with any part of your proposal. Besides, I think it would be good for you to get out of the Jewel for a bit."

 

It was Coatleque's turn to look surprised as her head turned back to face him. "O-of course, Ser. I do not think more than five squires will be needed. I'll continue their training myself while we are there of course. I'd like to take Ser Tarry as well. I think we will be spending most of our time in the outer settlements at first, just learning to integrate. I will be discrete."

 

The man regarded her for a moment longer, his thoughtful look passing. But he did nod again. "You and Ser Tarry worked well together in that Pearl Lane debacle. I think it prudent to have someone trustworthy and competent by your side. I do not see much getting done if you are busy with squires. Besides, Ser Tarry has already taken the initiative of seeing our new allies for herself, if reports are correct."

 

Coatleque chewed the inside of her cheek when she heard of such 'reports'. She knew Sharla had left Thanalan already but not on orders. If the Captains caught wind of her ture intentions it may be considered desertion. But not now. "Ah, yes... I will be sure to inform her of the assignment and new orders. Hopefully she has found some beds already. I will have the squires set about some low-risk tasks until we are established enough, then I will start looking for Anden Anduron. I believe he is somewhere in the outer reaches of Coerthas, and I would rather see him reeled in before he can tarnish Ul'dah's reputation further."

 

"Hmmm," a crease bent above the captain's brow. "Yes, the Brass Blade captain, still wanted for murder if I recall." He rubbed his forehead. "He had some affiliation with Taeros, aye?"

 

"Aye, murder, among some of his transgressions." She replied flatly. "I wouldn't know of his affiliations, though..." She did not look away, but her eyes refused to meet his any longer.

 

A long pause fell between the two. The sun at last dipped below the skyline bathing the room in shadow. When Jenlyns finally broke it, he was quiet. "I am not deaf nor blind, Ser Crofte. The rumors of you and Taeros were on the lips of many."

 

She fidgited uncomfortably in the chair. "It's not nearly what it may seem. Besides, I am sure you heard such things of Natalie before me anyway."

 

"Natalie was a wild cannon. You were held in a much different regard. And those rumors, I cannot say most of those who spoke of it did so favorably." There was no judgement in his tone. "But I knew the man myself. Not all Monetarists are against us. Some do support the good of the Sultanate. And I too have noticed his sudden and strange absence. Are you going to tell me that going after a Brass Blade captain that Jameson put into position himself has nothing to do with it?"

 

Coatleque raised her hand to her chin and contemplated something before taking a deep breath and moving the hand to the side of her face, then looking down to rub her forehead. Her motives may have been a tad more transparent than she thought. "Perhaps... I may have wont to... interrogate him before returning him to the city for another trial."

 

Jenlyns nodded. "As this is entirely your investigation, you are at liberty to conduct it as you see fit."

 

She looked up then as if having been struck by another idea. "I do not suppose you have any idea what happened to him?" Him being Jameson of course.

 

He shook his head. "Taeros? Nay. He has always been his own man. Charming when he wants to be, and extremely private in almost all things. I always attributed that to his employer."

 

"Yes, but which one?" Coatleque muttered to herself.

 

"But his line of work, the power within that circle... it was always a dangerous game he played, and I suspect he knew it." He paused. "Wherever he may be, I suspect he is no longer here because he cannot be. Whether he still draws breath or not... I have always thought the place in our lives to be fleeting. At the mercy of the tilt of the scale."

 

"I dare say he liked... likes the game more than he'd let on." She snorted and shook her head, refusing to speak of him as if he was gone in that way. "I will not let this distract me from what I have proposed, however. The Sultanate comes first."

 

Jenlyns let out a long sigh. "These past many moons, we have seen much change and turmoil. But I trust there are those of us who would stand steadfast against whatever rises to threaten what we hold dear." Coatleque closed her eyes and turned her head away again, crossing her arms as well. "You have grown and learned much since your first promotion, Ser Crofte." He continued, "Whether it was out of necessity or this is who you were meant to be... I believe you will stand strong for the Sultanate. Here or up north."

 

"Thank you, Ser." She stammered quietly before taking a deep breath and standing to face him once more. "I have taken too much of your time though. I have a team to assemble."

 

"I trust I will receive reports on your progress." he said before turning back towards the window to watch the last semblances of dusk settle over the city.

 

"And I shall be just as thorough as you are accustomed from me." She saluted him once more regardless of if he saw her. "For Coin and Country."

 

"For Coin and Country, Ser Crofte."

[Coatleque]

The little girl peered down into the bucket of water at the monstrosity that circled within. The largest, ugliest sea bass she'd ever seen in her (to date) short lifespan. Also her first catch by coincidence. While her mother was busy preparing the stove for frying, her father came round to stand before her and look down with a smile. She looked up to him.

 

"He's so ugly!" She remarked with an exaggerated shudder of disapproval.

 

"Aye, he may be. Is that so wrong?"

 

"Why can't bass be prettier, pa? I want to catch... an, an, an angelfish!"

 

"There are many, many fish in te ocean, Florence. But ye cannae pick 'n chose the one Ralghr sends tae yer hook. What ye have tae decide is whether ye take it home or throw it back."

 

"B'what iffn' I dinnae want this fish, pa? I shouldda just thrown it back."

 

"Oh, perhaps so. But then ye need tae ask yerself - how long are ye willing tae go hungry before ye accept whatever bounty th Twelve already placed in yer lap? Besides, it mayn't look like much now, but once yer mum's through he'll be delicious. Understand, hon?"

 

"I s'ppose so."

 

---

 

Coatleque jerked back to reality when she realized something was tugging at her line. She responded with a quick jerk of her own to set the hook as her father taught her. The line was reeled in slowly and steadily, kept taut against whatever struggled from the other end. The reel locked suddenly and moved the pole from side to side, up overhead and down low to the ground. A sigh of frustration - it was snagged. She gave a few more quick jerks followed by one strong that broke whatever it was free along with the line itself.

 

Her shoulders slumped a little after pulling the rest of the line in and she reached to the small box nestled in the snow by her side to retrieve another hook only to find she was out. "I suppose I cannae throw this one back just yet then." she muttered to herself.

[Coatleque]

The stone sat innocently at the middle of the table. White etchings stood out over its polished blue surface. Quiet, inert. The woman stared at it from her chair across the room. She leaned forward. Fingers massaging her temples. "What am I to do with it?"

 

A quiet pulse shook the lantern flames and the stone turned purple from within. A dark figure leaned down to her from the side, whispering in her ear. "It hates you now. You are nothing. Nobody. Dead and forgotten."

 

"That's not true." she stammered.

 

The figure righted itself in one fluid motion and stepped slowly around the chair. Her tattered dress left traces of frost that quickly wicked away into the cracks of the wood. "It was never about you, you know. It was always about me. I was the one he desired. And you simply could not measure up." Her mouth twitched to the side twice before curling to a sneer while the other woman sobbed quietly.

 

"This... this is why I never liked you. Why you know he never could. Sniveling whore! You should crawl back to your Jewel and waste away in the gutter where you belong."

 

The figure turned abruptly and knelt before the chair. Her nose mere lims from the other's forhead.

 

"Or... to Ishgard. Yessss, together. The Voice can lead us to him. You know she can. We only need the right leverage."

 

The woman's eyes widened.

 

"Your sister is in Fallgourd. Take her. She knows too much already, and her corpse will serve to break him all the sooner."

 

A sudden knock at the door startled the woman in the chair. Her head turned towards it, then down to the blistered palm of her hand from when she had tried to hold the stone again. That's right, she had requested a chirurgeon. She stood and surveyed the room quickly. The other woman was nowhere to be found.