Skybound - Chapter 17: [Stormwrought Paladin]

Davin Tillerson was in awe.  Having led half of the available lancers on a mad charge down the road to reinforce his wife's group, he'd held them up at Jenna's signal.  From his position, he'd witnessed the tail end of the desperate fight between Calvin Descroix and the enemy commander.  When he felt the pulse of power from the Battlemaster’s awakening, he started them forward again.  The mixed group of Luparan irregulars and city guard were locked in a whirling battle with the Deskren light infantry, and he could see the enemy commander breaking for Dreigrar, Tanra, and Jenna.  

And then he saw Calvin back on his feet and advancing.  Davin pulled up short, his horse rearing and halting the half-started charge.  The Deskren recruit? -he was never really sure of Calvin's status- was battered, bloody, and looked terrible, but he was moving.  Davin watched him toss aside the Halberd he'd been carrying, and advance with sword and shield.

And in a moment he'd never forget, he saw Calvin raise his shield as a wall of Crimson lightning erupted from the hand of the woman leading the Deskren at the breach.  Davin grimaced, thinking it the end for Calvin.

Until it clashed with Calvin's shield.  A white light erupted from the simple wood and metal, and Calvin placed one foot in front of the other with considerable effort.  He continued to advance, driving the commander's spell back until he was practically on top of her.

And then all hell broke loose.  Davin could see Tanra and Dreigrar practically dragging Jenna back when the spell erupted.  No mage, he could not tell what happened next, or why.  He watched as a competing wall of white and a wall of crimson finally overloaded.  The magical explosion washed over the area with the resounding peal of thunder.  And the two combatants fell over.  Calvin dragged himself to the fallen commander- clearly he knew her.  The remaining Deskren light infantry poured away from the breach in the wall, running in terror as Davin raced the remaining few hundred meters to the gap in the wall, even as Calvin collapsed atop the Deskren commander.  He could hear Jenna shouting for him to break to Descroix even as she and her Luparan escorts ran forward.

The walls held, despite the Deskren gambit, and though the main Deskren force was still out on the field, they made no signs of advancing.  Davin whispered a silent prayer, and hoped that Calvin was still alive.

===============================

Calvin Descroix was pretty sure he was dead.  He remembered cradling his dying sister, and his vision dimming.  Then he remembered what brought him to his present state. 

A figure girded in armor shining brighter than the most polished silver, with a face too beautiful for words was smiling at him. The silvery metal band encircling her forehead glinted in the omnipresent light.

She held out a hand.

“You have a choice to make now…”

He could dimly remember taking her hand.

Calvin found himself floating in a white, seemingly endless void.  He focused his gaze on the feminine figure before him.  Average of height, and athletic of build, Calvin realized that there were worse ways to be greeted in death.  The most striking thing about her were the resplendent, outspread wings.  They possessed feathers whiter than freshly-fallen snow. He realized he'd seen the very same at the end, as he marveled at the feeling of weightlessness, and the lack of pain that moments before had coursed through his body.  He glanced around his surroundings, before making eye contact with the icy blue eyes in that nearly too perfect face.

"So.  I'm dead, then."

"No, my stubborn boy, despite your efforts to the contrary.  Not quite dead.  Close, perhaps."  She favored him with a smile, before continuing.  "It would not make much sense to offer a dead man a choice, though, would it?  I had hoped you'd be smarter than that."

The winged woman laughed, the sound pure and clear, and indicating no malice.

"Well then, where am I?  How am I?"

She laughed again.  "Calvin Descroix, you know where you are.  You have but to remember back.  Simply put, your actions have gained you notice.  Your care has gained you notice.  You are a rare mortal to turn your back on kith and kin to defend others you do not know.  Why do this?"

Calvin's mind raced.  There were no easy answers here.  No way to know what the winged woman wanted to hear.  In the end, he simply spoke.

"I'll answer your question, if you answer one of mine."

She gestured for him to continue, still smiling.  "Please tell me.  You may ask your questions after you've answered."

He could sense the deep well of power practically radiating from her, and the thought of answering wrong practically terrified him.  In the end, the words came pouring out.

"You want to know why?  Very well.  The Empire is doomed.  Whether it's the dead sands, or the Armies of the North, it cannot continue as it has.  I know the General will dismantle it brick by brick if he must.  I have felt the weight of his terrible resolve.  Even if he fails, and my father somehow conquers the continent, we'll keep feeding people to the dead sands until there are no more slaves.  And then it will be free men."

He paused, looking at her pleadingly.

"I've come to see a better way.  I've learned what free men, with the power of choice can do.  Luparans I commanded as slaves followed me into the face of certain death because they chose.  I want better for the world.  I want better for my people.  Ours is a way, but it is not the only way.  Free men can be stronger than slaves if they make that choice."

Calvin's words tapered off for a moment as he was seemingly out of breath, before he spoke again.  "And it was the right thing to do.  I would do it again."

The winged woman nodded. Her silky blonde hair, shorn short, did not seem to move.  

"Wisely said.  This is why you have been noticed, Calvin.  And this is why you will be given a choice."

"What choice?  Who are you?"

"The latter leads to the former.  I am Zizael, the Herald of Redemption.  And I offer you a choice that affects your soul.  If you so choose, you will awake from this as a Paladin of Asima.  No longer will you be a [Windstep Centurion].   You will be given the opportunity to reclass, to be something greater.  You may, of course, choose to reject this.  You will still awaken, and carry on as you have been.  Your story now truly begins, Calvin Descroix, and all with a simple choice."  Deep blue eyes flashed crimson briefly before returning to their original color.  Calvin could sense there was more to Zizael's own story.

"What?"

"You should know that it comes with certain obligations.  A Paladin defends the weak, but a Paladin is also an instrument of Justice.  A Paladin is no priest.  Yours will not be to minister to your people.  Yours will be to enforce Justice, just as it will be to defend those who cannot defend themselves.  Even against family and country, this will hold true, Calvin Descroix."

Calvin nodded silently.  He could feel the weight of those words bearing down on him.  He closed his eyes, and searched his soul.  Could he do that again, if called upon to do so?  Would he have the strength of will to render judgement against his own family?  His father?  He hesitated for a moment.

He had already faced down Claire whom he had loved best of his siblings.  He could no longer sit idly by, hiding in the field from Imperial Politics.  He could no longer let the Empire continue as it had been without doing something about it.

In the end, he made his choice.

"I accept, Zizael.  I will become a Paladin."

"I never doubted you, Calvin Descroix."  The winged woman came closer to Calvin.  Her smile grew even bigger, and she embraced him.  Calvin blinked, as she looked him in the eye, and placed her lips against his.  His body tensed up, as divine energy poured into him.  It was a wildly different experience than his first class selection- even as he could feel the changes being written on his soul.  An eternity passed in an instant, and the changes completed in the time it took him to blink at the kiss.

The shock of the moment wore off as she spoke.  "Very well, Calvin Descroix.  You have marched through the storm and come out the other side.  Stand, [Stormwrought Paladin], and take your place in the world.  Your story begins anew."

=================

Jacob Ward hated the waiting.  Born in a world where the radio made for rapid reporting, relying on runners minorly irked him.  As ever, he did his best not to show his irritation.  While he was unconscious, the Deskren had attempted a gambit to take the city.  

His gaze fell over the corpses of the trio of assassins, and he shook his head.  If not for his wife, it was better than even odds that he and Millie would both be dead.  He made a mental note to find the Deskren commander who'd ordered that, and kill them.  Painfully.  He glanced over to Erin, who went about her work, humming instead of singing, at least.  Her love for 90s pop rock was one of her few flaws.  "How are they doing, love?"  He spoke, as he waited for his hastily drafted runners to return.

"Most will make it.  There's a few…"  she hesitated.  "A few here that won't, despite my best efforts.  As far as the battle?  Can't really say, Jake."  She was the only one who called him that, here.  "I imagine it'll be worse when the fighting has stopped.  The Deskren used some sort of seriously evil magic and it wrecked sections of the wall and the city.  We're going to be looking for survivors for days, I think."  

He nodded at her, and looked towards the door.  He could hear the rapidly closing sound of hooves on cobblestones- someone was riding up, which meant one of his lancers.  He wasn't sure who.  He sat on a sturdy wooden chair- still worn out from the charge, and waited.

He was surprised, then, to see his second in command carrying what appeared to be the corpse of Calvin Descroix.

"Ah, hell Davin.  What happened?"

The burly minor lord turned lancer shook his head as he set Calvin's form down carefully on an empty table.  "He's alive, but how I don't know.  The damned fool charged a powerful mage, and somehow killed her.  Jenna and a couple of the Luparan are coming back as well.  They should be able to tell you more, Jacob."

Erin moved from a patient she'd just stabilized and placed a hand on Calvin's forehead.  As her hand made contact with his skin, her eyebrows shot up.

"Oh.  That's… odd."  She glanced at Jacob and Davin.  "His injuries… are extensive.  He's obviously comatose, but this is no normal coma.  Something has him stabilized."  

"What do you mean?"  Jacob fixed his gaze on his wife. 

"I can't tell from where, but something is keeping him alive for now.  It's the strangest thing.  I can't actually do anything more for him right now."

"Any idea, Davin?"  

"Nothing I can think of- maybe Jenna will know?"

"In the interim, tell me what happened today."  

Davin briefly ran through the events of the Battle of the Breaches.  Jacob nodded, taking in the information, as a pair of guardsmen brought another body in on a litter.

Shortly after, Jenna arrived with Dreigrar and Tanra on her heels.  The three looked weary and worn, having been in the thick of the fighting.  They waited until Davin finished his retelling, right up to the point that he'd ridden up.

“It was blood magic,” added Jenna. “Raw and vicious, not as focused as the more refined arcane arts. I don’t know what saved him, but I suspect it was intervention. We saw feathers while following him.”

"Feathers?  Intervention?"  Jacob's eyebrow practically shot through the roof.  He looked at Erin, who stared back at him.  "Uh."  The [Blacklance Battlemaster] was at a rare loss for words, as his mind worked through the potential implications of that statement, even as Jenna continued.  "That's the only way I can think of that Calvin was able to reflect the mage's spell back at her.  So far as I know, he had no skill in magic, and certainly not magical reflection."  She shook her head. "...If he hadn't been there, we might not be speaking now."

Dreigrar cleared his throat, and Jacob looked to the Luparan trooper.  He spoke softly, and nodded.  "You have more to add, Dreigrar?"  The Luparan stood a little straighter, quietly surprised that the Battlemaster knew his name.  

"...The mage, she was the enemy commander.  Lady Claire.  She was Lord Calvin's sister."

"...Oh.  Damn."  Jacob heaved a sigh.  It seemed that Calvin had taken their talks to heart.  He shook his head.  "Hard man.  I'll have to talk to him in depth if he wakes up.  No, when he wakes up."  He looked at Erin and she nodded.  "I'll make su-," her words were interrupted by the familiar wheezing laughter of an old man, 

"So then I told yer mom,"  Hett, accompanied by Stev Aras, and two much smaller men marched through the open door to the tavern stopping off mid-story when he saw the company he was in.  

"Hett.  I see you've brought some friends?"  

"Aye, this is Stev Aras- he's been runnin' the town in the absence of his ma, Terisa.  Not that anyone really runs Expedition.  An' this is mess'r's Petram an' Jemeris."  Jacob regarded the two with a nod, though his eye fell on the lifesteel arm attached to the human.  

"Charmed, I'm sure gentlemen.  I'm Jacob Ward, and I lead the Lance.  We'll have plenty of time to get acquainted. What news do you have?"

Stev spoke first.  "First, thank you for your company's assistance these past few days.  That charge was something, and I don't know how we'd have fared today without your troopers."  He smiled and continued.  "We were able to contain and close the eastern breach.  The Deskren punched through into Tinkertown. For… a wide variety of reasons that was a terrible idea.  On our way, Obadiah and I noticed some oddness."  He laughed and gestured to the other two.  "Petram and Jemeris were sent by the Tinkers to talk with you directly about that."

Petram, the human partner in the pair glanced at the Battlemaster, and sighed, his face grim.  "Even if the breach had remained open, we now have a far bigger problem to worry about."

"...Say what now?  What could possibly be a bigger problem than what's left of the Deskren army pouring through the wall?"

Jeremis shrugged and looked up at Jacob.

"Plague."