Malachite hears the door closed behind him. He stares at the General, the supposed Saint. The skeleton stares back.
The sword stays silent. Malachite checks; Saint Aleax is undead, isn’t evil. His aura is one of warmth, like warm sunshine, but his manner is cold and formal.
“Sit.”
They lock eyes, or the closest thing to it. The staring lasts for 30, 45 seconds as each paladin tries to see the mettle of the other. Aleax’s bones creak as he plants his bony hands on the table and leans forward.
“I’m not what you’d want to see.” Aleax’s voice is factual.
“I have not said that, Commander.”
Saint Aleax looks at him , considering; respond to the deliberate insult of the title or discuss the emotions behind the impertinence? Whatever he decides, he doesn’t rise to the bait and correct Malachite’s use of the honorific. “Malachite. Honored Knight. Bane of undead. Elite soldier of our God. I welcome you here. Your Order is dissolved, but your cause lives on. You are given the same choice your brethren received: join the Church Militant proper, or walk free of church responsibilities and benefits. Whatever you decide, you will no longer wear the Emerald Tabard. Others will have briefed you; what do you decide?”
Long silence. “I serve the True Faith, Commander.”
“As do I, Malachite. But how do you serve it? You are an experienced Commander and you may make the difference in our holy quest, the one whose presence determines success or failure. You do not have the luxury of sitting upon the wall, waiting to see which side is most advantageous. You are too important for that. ”
In the silence, you can hear the Sound of Sir Malachite’s knuckles cracking, fists clenched. “As I said, I serve the True Faith, Commander. I follow the will of my God on the mission to which I have been set.”
“Ah. So you choose the path of the distraction. You choose to fight small battles against a foe unbeatable by normal tactics, instead of choosing to burn them from existence once and for all. We have an opportunity, Malachite; an opportunity to rid Spira of the taint of undeath. Not for all times, but all that currently exist. You choose to spurn that chance.”
Steely silence.
“Very well. You will not be hindered if you act under the mantle of the Church, but you will not receive aid that can be used elsewhere. You may have a quest, Malachite, but it is not The quest, and Aeotian troops will be deployed where they will be the most effective.”
“I expected nothing else, Commander.” Hard, cold, proud.
“I understand that you have a sword that may contain a piece of my soul. Let me see it.”
For the first time, Malachite hesitates. “We are alone here.”
The General looks annoyed. “So?”
Malachite answers, “I must caution you. The sword is powerfully opposed to undead. If you were inadvertently hurt, I would be blamed.”
“No one will blame you, and I doubt I will be hurt, especially if the sword contains a piece of me. I am formed by Aeos from the steel of the sun. Give me the sword.”
“Commander, I caution you….”
“Yes, you did. And I ordered you. Give me the sword.”
Malachite pauses, but only for a second. He pulls Aleax from its sheath and whirls it around his head. Pure, warm sunlight pours out of the triumphant sword. Then Malachite spins the pommel in his hand and lays the sword out in front of him, on display, but just out of the skeleton’s reach. “Here it is, Commander.” The skeletal Aleax reaches out for it, but Malachite pulls it out of reach. “I don’t think that would be wise, Commander.”
St. Aleax pulls back his hand, crosses his arms, and looks at Malachite. “Your opinion is irrelevant. Hand me the sword.”
“I don’t think so, Commander.”
“Do you realize that you are disobeying a direct order?”
“I do, Commander.”
“Do you understand the consequences for doing so?”
Malachite answers grimly. “I understood them when I chose to disobey them.”
Suddenly, the sword itself speaks. “I can not tell whether he is a part of me or not. He is not evil, but he does not resonate with me.”
Aleax looks at the sword. “What is the first thing you can remember?”
”I spent hundred of years in the lair of a dracolich. My memory is hazy beyond that. I know who I am, though; I am Aleax, and I was a paladin.”
Malachite smiles bitterly as he sheathes the sword. “Indeed you were.” He looks up. “Commander, if there is anything else…?”
“There is. Malachite, former Knight of the Emerald Chapel, you are cast from the Church for insubordination. Heresy as well, perhaps. You may leave your tabard with a cleric below. I will not take the holy sword from you, though, as much good as it will do you now. I recognize it; it used to be mine. When I was alive I wielded that blade, but then it called itself Velios, and it claimed to be the soul of a paladin from the Dawn Times.” Aleax leans on the desk. “Perhaps he died with it as well. I will pray for your soul, Malachite, that you are granted the wisdom to guide your soul to the true light.”
The echoes of his voice in the room fade away.
Malachite, headed for the door, looks back. “My faith is strong, Commander,” he says simply, and walks out.
* * *
”Perhaps I would have known if he had touched me,” muses the sword as they stride through the sunlit temple.
“I wish you had said that before,” says Malachite.
”But I think… I think that if that was me, and I found out that I had come back as a skeleton? If it were me, I think I would have destroyed myself immediately.”
* * *
Downstairs, a prelate is waiting. “You have something to leave here, Sir?” he asks.
“No,” growls Malachite, and turns to leave. He stops as Tao’s eyes begin to glow and a trembling aura bursts from her body without warning.
Tao's voice fills with preternatural beauty, the sound of the wind and living things, the sound of a Goddess Incarnate. “Tao Camber. Four hours from now, in the town of Hundle’s Crossing, they will reach the surface for the first time. They are coming.” The light fades, and Tao returns to normal.
Everyone trades glances, and someone asks, "WHO is coming?" But everyone knows who Galanna meant. Almost a thousand miles away, in a little town, the White Kingdom is about to gather food.
To be continued….
