"Right this way, sir!"
Gyanda's first day aboard the Morta was a busier one than even he could have anticipated. Many years of fighting evil and organizing the movement to promote blood magic acceptance had failed to prepare him for his first true command. As the Archknight, he was used to leading the Avatars, but he was a lot slower to adjust to the tedium of leading Resta's Starlight Crusade forces. Like everyone else, he was training to use the specialized equipment that had been designed for the upcoming war, but he also shouldered the burden of appearing to be the most competent at every aspect of this new technology while making time for his duties as Captain. He had only just returned from a day of training with the new Hermes armor and now faced several meetings in succession. He politely dismissed the subordinate who offered to escort him to his office in favor of a few moments' solitude. His first order of business: selecting the Morta's officers.
He sneaked through the halls of the newly opened ark so as to avoid the questions that seemed to follow him everywhere these days. It was clearly his own fault that he needed to do this as far as he was concerned. His organization of the world's blood mages, the terror inflicted on him by Erdas, his disappearance, the capture of his wife, and his appropriation of the Occulus System had all made him one of the most curious figures in the new fleet. It certainly didn't help when he released his memoirs, which should have explained everything but only intensified the conversation around him. He knew that it would do no good to hide from everyone now that he had reclaimed his title as the Archknight, but he felt desperate for a break ahead of his first meeting.
Sadly, he was denied this opportunity from the moment he walked into the office, where the first person he was to meet with was already waiting. He stifled a sigh as he took a seat at his desk and greeted the old man. At well over 100 years old, Clint Blackstone was the oldest human to enlist in the Crusade by far. Gyanda had not been convinced of the utility that someone of his advanced age could possibly offer, but King Baldus had been clear in his desire to claim his legendary brain for the Morta's crew. As he examined the Champion of Crane, the captain was able to determine that he was fully aware of where he was. But what he needed to determine was whether Clint would be able to keep up with the mental and physical demands of the mission. Intuitive as he was, the Champion was quick to open the conversation with words that addressed these concerns.
"Greetings!" the old man said with a grin. "I'm told that this is where we discuss what you plan to do with this army's best shooter."
Gyanda sat back into his chair with eyebrows raised. "That is a rather bold estimation of your skills, is it not?"
Clint shook his head. "No, I'm certain I've still got it! You know that shot that saved you against that nutter, Jager?"
Following the disappearance of the majority of the Avatars, Chaos was quick to name a replacement for his own. In his hasty fury, he had selected a particularly nasty and zealous templar named Jager Harret to represent him until Gyanda used the Occulus to reveal that the original Chaotic Avatar was still alive and resisting the enemy on their home world. The two of them had last met on the grounds of the Gilded Keep during last year's Summer Festival. That confrontation might have been deadly for Gyanda if not for a fortuitous shot from an unseen sniper, but no one had ever discovered who fired the shot.
"If you are telling me that it was you who fired this shot, I must express some skepticism. I would have sensed if a man of your stature had been close enough to the castle on that day."
"Oh, I have no doubt of that," the Champion said with a wizened smirk. "But I'm not claiming that I was at the Festival. I made the shot from my kitchen."
Gyanda shook his head while making an effort to conceal his exasperation. "Blackstone Farm is a great many miles away from the capitol. What you have told me is impossible."
Clint shook his head and laughed. "Forgive me, sir, but you're no expert on rifles. With your magical knowledge, though, you ought to know better than to utter the word 'impossible'."
"Even if that's true, there is no way for you to have aimed a shot at that distance."
"You're right, but I wasn't aiming. I was letting Crane guide my hand. If he'd decided that you were more dangerous than Jager, I'd probably be talking to him instead of you right now."
Gyanda remained skeptical, but saw no reason to pursue this line of questioning any further. "Well, it is heartening to know that my cause has Crane's endorsement. It seems that his motives are the most mysterious among the gods lately."
"What do you mean by that?" Clint asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I am referring to his new Avatar," Gyanda said carefully. "She is quite the controversial figure. If she perfectly represents his will, there is some question as to what he expects to come of this war."
"He expects what he always does, I think" Clint responded, shrugging nonchalantly. "He wants us to survive and expand our horizons. It's not really that complicated."
"That may be true, but Lady Apollo's own actions seem to fly in the face of common sense, I believe. Why else would she be so desperate to save someone who has openly betrayed us?"
Clint's smile faded for the first time, indicating that Gyanda had touched a nerve.
"Look, I read your book and it seems like you think you know Richie pretty well, but as his brother, I'm telling you that Tir's reasoning is perfectly valid."
"Why do you suppose so?" Gyanda asked, his eyebrows raised in genuine curiosity.
"My little brother has lived for Crane in the way you seem to do for magic," Clint replied in a measured tone. "You can call him a Betrayer all you want, but I won't believe he turned his back on his Intalan ideals until I hear why from his own lips."
Gyanda did sigh this time, seeing no need to conceal his disappointment. As far as he was concerned, neither Clint nor Tir were looking at this situation objectively, but it was possible he wasn't either. All he knew was that Richard Broger was a lifelong eccentric known for his unpredictability. He also recalled all of the times he had been burned by The Betrayer. How many lives had been lost simply due to his reckless handling of Garanda's soul? How many times had he made his beloved feel uncomfortable? He had long since learned better than to trust Broger, so he felt truly vindicated when the former Avatar revealed his allegiance to Erdas. Why was it so hard for anyone else to believe that the man who had frustrated him so many times had formed a genuine bond with his ultimate tormentor?
"The particulars of our religious ideologies need not necessarily include absolute loyalty to our deities," Gyanda said with a shake of his head. "I know that is possible to betray Crane while maintaining an Intalan identity because every step I took towards bringing my coven out of the shadows was a betrayal of Chaos. I did not have to renounce the Doctrine of Power to do so, nor did he need to renounce the Doctrine of Knowledge. But the fact remains that he has turned his back on our gods and aligned with our enemy."
Clint scowled and replied, "What if I told you I found proof that he's not in his right mind?"
Gyanda shook his head dismissively. "I'm well aware of the theory you share with Tir regarding Erdas' control over your brother. But consider my position. You may be correct in saying that you know Broger better than I, but you must concede that my personal experience with Erdas leaves me plenty of reason to be skeptical of this claim. After everything he has done to me, I have never felt any desire to aid in the genocide of my own people."
"It's a shame that the same couldn't be said of your mother," Clint replied bitterly.
"You're out of line!"
"Why? For pointing out your hypocrisy? Why does your mother deserve to be saved when she's guilty of the same thing you've condemned my brother for?"
"My mother's motivations--"
"Were petty and selfish! Yet she's wandering about this airfield somewhere while you plot revenge against someone who's only paying for his curiosity for the first time in his life!"
Gyanda might have conceded this point if he were in a more generous mood, but at that moment, he could only focus on the indignity of comparing Richard Broger to Matilda Maloran. While it was true that both had cast their lot with Erdas, he considered their respective motivations as comparable as night and day. While the God of Agony had exploited the Templar General's weaknesses, Broger appeared to have been seduced by an offer of knowledge that exceeded the bounds of what he could learn under Crane. But he had no time to argue this point because Clint's rant was not finished.
"Speaking of your book, I think you should know better than anyone that no one's perfect. I'm not going to sit here and listen to the man who murdered the family of a good friend of mine try to tell me that anyone is beyond redemption!"
Those words nearly drove Gyanda to remove the old man from his office on the spot. While there was some truth to the point that he was the last person who should be denying anyone a chance at redemption, pointing it out seemed counterproductive. No matter how firmly Clint was convinced that Broger was worth saving, it didn't change the reality of their mission.
"There is some truth to what you say, but your words neglect another truth that you may not wish to hear," Gyanda replied calmly. "Neither I nor my mother have ever proven to be as dangerous as your brother. He has injured Chaos, something no one ever thought possible. What is more, our reports from Mennon lead me to conclude that Broger does not wish to be saved. Our orders are not to risk the success of our mission on the assumption that he can be redeemed, but to neutralize him as a threat."
"I'm aware."
"If you are to join the Morta's crew, you must be prepared to see him dead," Gyanda continued insistently.
Clint returned Gyanda's hard stare and said, "You're going to need all the help you'll get keeping our people alive against these fish men and Sea Angels and I can provide that help. The only caveat is that I won't help you plot to kill my brother. If that's something you require, you can ship off without me."
Gyanda sighed and shook his head. "This disagreement is immaterial. The matter of what to do with Broger is over both of our heads. I can respect your desire to refuse your involvement in his downfall, as long as you do not attempt to undermine the decision we reach in regards to his life."
"I'm here to serve Resta," Clint responded with a stony expression. "If anyone is going to change your mind about this, it will be Tir."
Gyanda pulled a file from his desk and began to peruse it. "If that is the case, I will disregard this debate and make my determination based on your own merits. As it turns out, you have a middling physique among our recruits, which is impressive enough at your age. Your target range scores do not quite prove your claim about firing that shot at the festival, but they are otherwise perfect. In addition, our verbal sparring has proven that the mental faculties for which our king has insisted on your inclusion have not diminished."
"I may be older than you and without the elven blood to boot, but I have managed to stay in good health in part due to Richie's help."
Gyanda nodded noncommittally. Although his continued devotion to his brother might prove to be problematic, Clint was perfect for command. He would have to keep his eye on him, as he was likely to report on his moves to Tir. So, deciding to check the biases that Clint had just challenged, Gyanda made the only decision that made sense.
"Hm. Well, the results speak for themselves. You are perfectly qualified to serve as an officer aboard my ship. Welcome to the Morta, Vice Captain."
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