Redemption Arc

Denzel walked in front of the door to Metterand’s study. He paused for a moment to take a breath, steadying himself. Then, he knocked thrice.

“Who is it?” the duke’s voice answered.

“It’s Prince Denzel. I have something I need to discuss with you,” he said, voice even.

Denzel heard some things being rearranged in the room beyond. “Come in,” the chancellor eventually said.

Denzel opened up the door and entered inside. The room was a lot messier than he was anticipating. There were scraps of torn paper scattered in a few places. The chancellor seemed busy picking things up, kneeling down and taking charge personally.

“What brings you here, heir apparent to the Duchy of Villamar?” Metterand asked, using that peculiar address with a smile on his face. “I’m rather relieved that I won’t have to deal with Lucian much longer. You’re a much easier person to do business with. He’s… unpredictable. And much less reliable, I should say.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Denzel gestured to the desk. “Perhaps we should sit.”

Metterand stopped cleaning, then brushed off his gloves. “Sounds dire.” He walked to sit behind his desk solemnly awaiting Denzel’s words. “What’s troubling you?”

“Lucian,” Denzel said. “He said some things that are extremely worrisome.”

“…does his wellbeing concern you?”

“It’s not his wellbeing I’m concerned about.” Denzel leaned in. “I don’t waste my time thinking about him, generally. No… this is about the future. Our future.”

“That’s quite vague.” Metterand narrowed his clouded eyes. “Is there something you have to tell me?”

“There is,” Denzel confirmed. “I need you to go along with Lucian to Heavenwatch Monastery.”

***

A day had come and gone since Lucian revealed his intent to Denzel. It was morning now, and he was in a state of relative panic. Cate sat behind him, repeatedly headbutting his shoulder. He didn’t know why, but she was. He didn’t question it. It wasn’t with great force, so it didn’t trouble him.

Why in the world did I say that to the prince? Lucian thought. What was going through my head? Why did I even think about that?

A quiet knock came at Lucian’s door and he paused his train of thought. He assumed it was the woman taking care of Cate and called out, “It’s open.”

The door opened up, and Denzel quickly looked around before entering and shutting it behind him. Lucian felt some dread as he started to talk. “I spoke to Metterand, and—” he trailed off when he spotted Cate. She watched Denzel silently.

“Go on,” Lucian said. “She’s fine.”

“Well… it worked just like you said,” Denzel said, walking up and speaking quietly. “He’s interested in accompanying you to the monastery. I didn’t get direct confirmation from him, but he said he’s going to look into it. I got the impression that he was already committed. He was looking at his schedule,” Denzel concluded with a grim smile.

At that, Lucian stood up and started to pace around the room. Why did Denzel have to work so fast? He didn’t have time to cancel, even.

Killing Metterand would be the biggest divergence that he’d considered thus far. Duke Clemens Metterand was more than a midboss. He was a driving factor for many of the elements in the story early on. Not only was he extremely powerful in terms of combat ability, he was also quite powerful in the more conventional ways—influence, wealth. His removal would irreversibly shift the course of all Lucian knew about War of Four. It would open Lucian himself up to harm, possibly, as he’d lose his guardian devil.

“I think we should call this off,” Lucian said quietly.

“What?” Denzel said in alarm. He walked up to Lucian. “No, no. You can’t get cold feet on me now,” the prince insisted, his voice low.

“Easy for you to say. You just have to nod and smile while I do all of the murdering,” he whispered loudly.

“You’re thinking about this all wrong,” Denzel said insistently. “That conversation that we had last night. It puts so many things into place. Metterand’s always been the problem. Always. It all lines up. He’s the poison in the well, the rat in the granary. He works with all sides, playing all the ends against the middle. He’s courting both me and Prince Algard, Duke Cyril and his rivals, the emperor and the nobility… he’s nothing more than a snake, a traitor, a—”

“A chancellor and a duke of the empire,” Lucian whispered fiercely.

“Does that mean he doesn’t bleed?” Denzel said. “Both of us agree that war would be utterly disastrous for everyone involved. You and I were there for that attack in the confluence. We fought against those bandits. You and I can attest to the fact that Metterand was always bad, but he’s only gotten worse.” Denzel put a hand on Lucian’s shoulder. “Would anyone blink twice at the notion that he was possessed by a demon? Would anyone blink twice at the idea that the Heavenwatch Monastery took it upon themselves to purge him? And once that’s happened, his political agenda becomes anathema, heresy. My father would be mad to support it.”

Lucian couldn’t respond. He knew it was probably the right thing to do. But was it the smart thing to do?

“There’s only two questions you have to ask.” Denzel held his hands out. “Do you know for certain he’s possessed by a demon?”

“Yes,” Lucian said.

“And can you reveal that to the monastery?”

“That’s not—”

“Can you do it?” Denzel insisted. “That plan you laid out for me. Could you do it? Were you making it up?”

“I don’t—”

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“It’s a yes or no question,” Denzel interrupted again. “Could you do it?”

Lucian sputtered for a bit, again asking himself why he’d involved Denzel in this. As he reviewed his plan, he begrudgingly said, “Yeah, I could do it.”

“Then it’s settled,” Denzel concluded. “Are you going to let the man who drags your sister by her hair until she bleeds walk free? He’ll kill children without hesitation. He’ll kill this empire if we let him. Something has to be done to fight against the bellicose factions in the Imperial Court. This is the start.”

Lucian walked away rattled. He wasn’t bigging himself up when he said that he could probably do this. Metterand may have been powerful, but even the fiercest warriors could fall given proper consideration.

As he paced around his room, he spotted something that he’d received earlier this morning. He’d sent a request to meet with his mother, Lydia Villamar. Just this morning, he got her refusal. She wouldn’t even meet with her only son. In other words… he was on dire straits, in terms of his plan.

“And if I do this… you’ll support me financially?” Lucian asked.

Denzel nodded. “Of course. And in other ways. I’ll support you however I can, whenever I can. As far as I’m concerned… it’s what I owe, taking the position of heir away from you.”

Lucian exhaled, thinking deeply. Eventually, his gaze settled upon Cate. She stared at him without saying anything. Even after the day that she’d endured yesterday, she had a big smile on her face. It was an infectious smile, devoid of ulterior motives.

“I’ll do it,” he decidedly heavily.

Denzel nodded, exhaling in relief.

It was foolish… but so was letting a cancer go untreated. Better to have an uncertain future than a certainly miserable one. If he did nothing, Metterand drove the four great powers toward war, and the Heavenwatch Monastery succumbed to the influence of demons. But if he could walk the walk as well as he could talk the talk…

Lucian was concerned his plan didn’t warrant Denzel’s fixation. He always thought he was a decent strategist when he had all of the facts on hand, but there was still a lot of improvisation necessary. He had omitted a few key details from the prince, like the fact that Heavenwatch Monastery was a ticking time bomb. Always best to hide a few uncertain details from the bosses to get a project proposal through.

The most alarming detail… once Metterand died, the demon within him would burst free. That was the hard part of the fight. Metterand himself was a formidable foe, no doubt, but the demon inhabiting him brought the true danger. It was a demonic noble, and one of the personal servants of the First Emperor. If Lucian could kill it personally, it would be a huge bounty. If he couldn’t, his Inquisitor’s Mark would still feast. In either case, Lucian was sure this incident would send shockwaves throughout the whole continent.

And Heavenwatch Monastery itself had countless secrets. It was a late-game destination, meaning the caliber of things he could find was quite high. That wasn’t even mentioning the fact that there was a story-related item located there. Lucian didn’t know if he’d have his chance to get it, but if things went very sideways, there was a chance.

No doubt about it. Lucian might be walking into a tornado. Even if he stayed on his feet, it’d tear up so much of what Lucian knew.

“I need potions,” Lucian said. “Poisons. A ton of them,” he said. “I need… a lot.”

“Then I’ll get it,” Denzel said simply.

***

Lucian received a knock at his door. A dreaded knock, one he’d been waiting for. He opened it up, coming face to face with Duke Metterand once more.

“Lucian. The envoy from the monastery has finally arrived,” Metterand said, acting as if he hadn’t just pulled Cate about by her hair not days ago. “I must say, he’s really quite something. It’s almost as if he’s descended from another world. He has an absurd angelic quality to him.”

Lucian stared him in the eyes. “Where is he waiting?”

“I’ll lead you to him,” Metterand said. Not an invitation—a command.

Lucian gestured onward, letting him take the lead. There was no use lashing out now. There was going to be a lot of this in the future.

“By the way, about that thing with Cate…” Metterand began. “The poor thing must’ve hit her head on accident. That was never my intention, I assure you.”

“What?” Lucian said in disbelief.

“I may have been a bit rough, but that wound on her head… she caused it herself,” Metterand continued. “You believe me, don’t you?”

Lucian didn’t reply.

“Frankly, I blame much of her behavior on you and your father,” Metterand continued. “If you’d used a firmer hand from the beginning, we wouldn’t have so many of these problems.” Lucian stayed silent, hoping Metterand couldn’t hear his teeth grinding. “Still… on the journey to the monastery, she’ll ride with you.”

Lucian played ignorant, asking, “Ride with me?”

“I’m coming along with you,” Metterand said. “Did I not say that I’d help you get a fiancée? I have to make good on that promise. Besides, it’s not every day that someone gets to visit the illustrious Heavenwatch Monastery. If I were you… I’d certainly see a way to play this to my advantage. Perhaps I can help on that front.”

Lucian kept quiet.

“You definitely have plans, don’t you?” Metterand smiled. Denzel had been thorough in sowing the seed, it seemed. “We can talk about it later. For now, let’s go. He’s out here.”

Metterand opened up a door that led out to the estate’s small courtyard. After a brief walk they made it to a detached cathedral that had seldomly been used. Just as the duke had promised, the monk—or perhaps ‘monastic’ was the better term, because they weren’t celibate—waiting for Lucian seemed utterly otherworldly.

Like all of the members of the monastery, this man wore a set of white and silver fur robes that were beautiful. The monastics, owing to their transformative powers, could weave splendid garments out of their own fur. It was a point of pride among their people to craft splendid outfits, as they were some few that could persist while transforming. This particular garment was lighter, smooth, yet had elegant silver trimming that provided a frame for a handsome face with luscious white locks that put Lucian’s to shame.

“Brother Pell,” Metterand greeted. “This is the candidate.”

Brother Pell looked at him with unnervingly blue eyes. He studied Lucian for a few moments. “Very lovely to meet you, young sir. I am Brother Pell.” He smiled serenely.

“Lucian Villamar,” he said, offering his hand.

Pell shook his hand politely. “Heavenwatch sent me to verify claims of an exceptional holy affinity. They tell me that you’re the person in question.”

“Shall we get right to that, then?” Lucian asked.

Pell shrugged. “I had intended for some cordialities first, but perhaps those can come after.” He produced a scepter with gray crystals studded all about it from his sleeve. He offered its handle to Lucian. “If you would just take hold of this… then after, perhaps we can have a more thorough discussion.”

Lucian reached out and took hold of the monastic’s scepter. Immediately, it started glowing with the brilliant white light.

“Ahh…” Pell said, his mouth wide open in what seemed like devotion. He had to take a moment to collect himself. He said in utter exultation, “Thank the heavens… what purity. This was not a journey wasted.”

“You think?” Metterand asked, shielding his eyes from the glow.

“Indeed. That such a light could emerge… it has been so long since last our monastery received a visitor of this caliber. I confess, I even feared that this land had become… benighted. I worried that insincerity, lack of character, and lack of integrity had taken root within it.” Pell held his hands out, offering to take the scepter back. “As ever, I am glad to be humbled.”

Lucian handed the rod off, glad when its light dimmed. “Yep. Integrity. Sincerity.” Lucian glanced at the man he was planning to assassinate using this monastic order. “That’s me.”