(III) Councilwoman

179 (III)Councilwoman

“It seems like more than just your own history is repeating, Legend-Councilwoman Chandler.” Stormhalt wheezed as he forced himself back to his feet. Veronica felt a begrudging bit of respect for the man. Despite all his flaws and foolishness, Havel Stormhalt was always a do-or-die kind of Pathbearer. There was no retreat in him, not cowardice or unwillingness to endure humiliation if it got him what he wanted.

Unfortunately, her respect was balanced out by annoyance as he continued speaking. “Roland’s and the Omenborn have decided to echo their parents. The Young Lord cares for Udraal’s abomination. I must ask that you offer me a chance to redeem myself, Legend-Councilwoman. All this—”

It was not Veronica that spat those words, but Cripple. Loud clanging followed as Cripple’s Avatar marched across the room. Stormhalt turned away from Veronica and clutched his chest. He did his best to hide a wince as he glared up at a massive automaton. Meanwhile, Cripple stood before Halsur as the two Ascendants faced each other down as well.

“My failures are only practical. My actions are virtuous!”

Stormhalt’s snarl enraged something in Cripple. Its divine mana flared. Stormhalt’s lightning surged. Veronica knew what was coming. No amount of Rhetoric was going to stop two very unreasonable gods if they decided to have another brawl in another meeting room over some other bit of stupidity.

“Grandmother,” Veronica said. “Stop them. Before we end up wasting more time. This is pointless.”

Kathereine was as much to blame as Stormhalt or Halsur for the mess they were in, but she was the hardest to deal with. Mainly because she functioned as the between most of the Ascendants when she wasn’t personally feuding with the Starhawk herself.

the Songbringer sang, her voice spiking the air with calmness and bliss. Both Halsur and Cripple went still as their Avatars staggered to a halt. Stormhalt’s face twitched, and a dopey smile crawled over him even as he tried to fight it. The cargo-automaton Cripple used as an Avatar right now let out a loud sigh and stopped moving.

Both Halsur and Cripple were still raring for a fight, but Kathereine turned her attention to them thereafter.

And that did the trick as usual. Another thing Kathereine had over the other Ascendants was her ability to remind them of their ugliest histories. Her songs carried the weight of Psychomancy, Empathy, but also What Kathereine could recall, she could make someone else relive.

And there was a great deal that the Ascendants didn’t want to relive, considering the centuries they'd endured.

Cripple said, its voice a reverberating drone.

Kathereine finished, placing the back of her hand on her head.

Cripple snarled.

Kathereine clutched her chest in mock offense.

“Enough,” Veronica said. And now it was time for her to counteract her grandmother. “Whatever happened, we will face together, as the mature, focused, and capable leaders of this great Republic. And that means finding Young Lord Arrow, recapturing him, recapturing the Deathless, and securing this prison before we form a proper after-action discovery committee. No more accusations now. Or provocations. Now we all listen.”

Cripple wanted to say something, but she intercepted its grievance. “Cripple. I know. Later. I promise.”

Veronica felt the weight of her own Rhetoric impact her own soul as she shuddered. Legendary promises were terrible things to break. Terrible enough that they might just kill her if she did. And that’s also why Cripple let it go for now. Because it knew she was serious.

Kathereine tutted.

“Your fault, not mine,” Veronica shot back. Now. With everyone present and the stupidity mostly contained, she took in a breath and began strategizing. “Okay. The breakout has mostly been contained to the Nadir, correct? Cripple. Report on the current situation.”

Enoch’s voice suddenly crashed out from Luminous Lantern like a collapsing building.

Cripple hesitated.

Daughter interrupted with a loud cry. The Daughter actually radiated with fear and stopped herself from saying the Deathless’s name. She shot across the room and splashed back into her Waif. Soon, she was enjoying the comforting arms of her mother’s Avatar once more.

Enoch declared.

Longinus said with a sneer. Content orıginally comes from novel•fire.net

Enoch snarled.

Longinus scoffed.

“It would be more of a triumph if we could stay on track,” Veronica added with practiced ease. “Enoch. We will try to reclaim your Rebis if we can. Longinus. Please.”

the Wanderer said, sighing.

“Thank you,” Veronica said. She didn’t say the last part, but she always thought it. “Whatever the case, we have a few mysteries to solve. The first being why Pathbearer Bethany broke Young Lord Adam out of his cell. Then, where did he go? After that, how do we get him back? My personal answer is that Bethany is likely compromised—or was an agent of Aviary—for the first.”

Several Ascendants turned to glare at Cripple. Even though this wasn’t really its fault at all. The recruitment for the Rubix Well was done by a specific department in the Prismatic Guard. And Cripple wasn’t the only one to miss the fact that there were Aviary agents in their midst. That applied to all the other Ascendants and their Avatars as well.

Veronica sighed internally.

“If that is true, then we likely have an entire cell under our noses,” she noted.

“I will see them found and delivered to the light,” a new voice proclaimed. Harlem the Truthful’s Avatar was a young man clad in pure-white plate, the same color as his hair. Whatever name he'd once had was lost to the purifying fires of the absolute truth burning behind his eyes. A rusted shackle ran along his arm, binding him to his dark-armored twin—and fellow Avatar. The latter served Dollus the Deceiver, the supposed thirteenth of the Ascendants.

Veronica knew a bit more than most, but there were other things about Dollus that bothered her. Mainly, she wasn’t sure if he actually existed at all, or if he was just a split personality of Harlem himself. She never really heard Dollus speak, after all. And Harlem operated in whispers and hints, usually visible only in someone’s peripheral vision. Even now, she could only see Harlem lurking, with no sign of his criminal twin.

“Very good,” Veronica said. “We will secure Young Lord Adam’s last known position and let Harlem take charge of the scene.”

Harlock spoke through Anthony.

Cripple declared.

“Not alone,” Veronica cut in. Cripple turned its single eye on her, but she refused to bend. “You said the Deathless caught you off guard with his Unique Skill last time. That’s not going to happen again. We do things as a and a now. No more independent operations. We treat this matter like how we dealt with the Tarrasque.”

Longinus jested.

“Dealing with it . As a collective. Making sure we cover for each other’s mistakes,” Veronica answered. “The Deathless will be coming for his friend. And we will take advantage of that. But it’s time to stop treating him like a side note. His capture is not assured. We are not in control of the situation right now, and the longer we refuse to face these facts, the faster the situation might spiral. Right now, he could be anywhere in the prison, and from what we know about his Outside Context Problem, tracking him is hard, but trapping him is reliable. We just need a lure.”

Kathereine mused.

That sent a rush of coldness through Veronica. “Very likely. I think they wish to learn the same things as we: Why the system wants the Deathless dead, how he was made, and how to create more of him.” Her eyes fell on Daughter. “Make no mistake, he is worth far more alive than dead. Especially if we can get him to bestow his path on our chosen candidates. Or have him lend his extreme System-favored status to all of us. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have a hard time remembering the last time I gained a level in any skill.”

The other Avatars present shuffled in place, and she knew she had them. “So. I will be the one that makes contact with him. Not because of distrust, but because of means, methods, and outcomes. From what we know of our Deathless, he has a Legendary Skill now that allows him to contend with an Ascendant in a direct confrontation and rip through Orichalcum and magic in equal measure. But he lacks proper social defenses. And so we will use that to pacify him.”

Charity muttered off to the side as she chuckled.

“Yes,” Victoria replied, unashamed. “Because I am most suited for the task. And we cannot risk letting him slip our chains any further. I know what you all suspect about my relations to him, what you don’t say openly but hint at with your words and eyes. I turn this around on you and ask: Do you think you can stop him with your words? Because I can. I can make this simple and direct. So. Yes. It will be me.”

The room fell silent. No further comments assailed Veronica. She almost sneered in triumph. Despite everything, Kathereine looked upon her with the faintest hint of pride.

“We work together, and we do this properly. Together. As one. Now. I cede my chair to you, Harlem. Direct us as you may, and let’s find our missing Young Lord, shall we?”

The Ascendant acknowledged her words and called out to Harlock and Cripple. As the room broke apart into subfactions among Avatars and Ascendants, Kathereine drifted closer to her granddaughter.

Kathereine began.

The thought was disgusting enough. “He’s already too young for you, regardless, grandmother.”

The Ascendant smiled.

Veronica didn’t. “You. Do. Nothing. Until. I. Have. Him.”

Kathereine laughed softly.

And in that moment, Veronica quietly begged that she wasn’t Tanner Lowe’s grandmother after all.