2. Resignation
2
Resignation
Talon
M y breathing was laboured as I walked up the road. I focused on taking my next step, and then the one after that. Whatever had healed me had not convinced me to believe in my oath again, so the magic I normally used to help my endurance was absent. Sweat coated my back, and for a second, I wondered if I was crazy for what I was trying to do.
I used my wing to shift the nagai’s corpse into a better position, rolling my shoulder. My internal firestorm kept my muscles moving, kept my energy up.
Keep going. Another step , I told myself. It wasn’t too far now. People stared as I passed, for once not focusing on my horns or exposed wings, but instead glued to the monstrous corpse I was carrying.
Whispers followed me, and conversations broke off into uneasy silence as I approached the Guild Hall.
I had been encouraged to use the back door when entering the building, and until now, I had done so. The large main entrance was unfamiliar to me.
I heaved the body down onto the white cobblestones beneath my feet and stood, catching my breath for a second. My gaze slid past the smooth green stairs that led up to the door, right up to the statue of Lydes. I glared at him. He was there because he was the God of loyalty and devotion, the patron of most Paladins. He had been carved with a key in his hand, the symbol of his victory against hell. He had sealed off all portals to and from, stranding my people on this side.
“Talon?”
It was Jyne, an older member. I mainly knew her because she had been fierce competition when it came to recording our kills. Her eyes lingered on my wings. I usually disguised them when I entered towns but couldn’t be bothered today.
“Fetch the masters,” I said, loudly . A steady anger was simmering within me, and I was focusing on keeping it low enough that I didn’t trigger Mirilith’s fervour.
She hesitated, but one glance at my face and she turned, heading up the stairs and entering the hall.
I waited, arms folded, wings tight. A crowd was gathering. Good , I thought bitterly, let them witness this .
It wasn’t long before the door crashed open, and three elders came out. The tallest was Ravenshaw, whose face soured as he took in the scene.
“What is the meaning of this?” he snarled, coming down the steps and stopping in front of the nagai.
“I did what you requested,” I replied flatly, my storm flaring at his anger. Though I stayed as still as I could, I couldn’t help my tail lashing behind me, betraying my frustration.
Despite his stature, Ravenshaw still barely came up to my shoulders .
“Did you forget we requested discretion on this matter?” said Ambrose, barely managing to keep her voice quiet.
“Come inside,” Mortimer suggested. He had always been the most level-headed of the three, and had it just been him, I would have skipped this whole scene.
“Are you trying to incite a panic? Stir up fear?” asked Ravenshaw.
“Hush, Ravenshaw,” Mortimer said, glancing at the crowd. He addressed an initiate at his side. “Please deal with the body. Keep the fangs, and milk the venom sacks; they are very valuable. Now, Talon.” He turned back to me. “You look weary. Come inside and sit. We can talk there.”
I met his gaze and relented, nodding. We went up the stairs and to the main office. I sat on the bench, as any of the other chairs wouldn’t fit me.
Mortimer poured himself some tea, offering me some, but I shook my head. Ravenshaw paced the room, face red. Ambrose tapped her finger on the desk.
“Would you care to explain yourself, Talon?” Mortimer took a sip of his tea. “Have you forgotten Guild protocol?”
“I didn’t forget,” I said tersely. “But I had a change of heart. I didn’t think it was fair to leave without these people knowing what I risked keeping them safe.”
“I doubt a giant hellspawn bringing a bloody monster corpse to our doorstep made anyone feel safe,” Ambrose said, and Ravenshaw scoffed.
“I almost died today.” I pulled my sleeve back, showing them the mark.
“You’re not special, boy,” spat Ravenshaw.
“No,” I snapped, not letting him continue. It was my time to talk. “I’m not special . No matter how hard I work, no matter how many monsters I kill or people I keep safe. Perhaps you would like to explain yourselves ? Why did it take you ten years to accept my membership? Why am I routinely omitted from honour call, despite my impeccable record? Why can’t I walk in the front door, like everyone else?”
“You’ve heard our reasons,” said Ravenshaw.
“Bullshit.” I jumped to my feet, causing the teacup on the desk to rattle. My control on Mirilith’s fervour was hanging by a very thin thread.
Ravenshaw flinched backwards, and Ambrose’s hand flew to her sword. Mortimer steadied the cup and took a sip of tea.
“I’m done . I’m done risking my life for people who hide me away, like I’m some shameful secret, who demand I work with discretion . I have done everything you demanded and done it better than anyone else. I’ve been a saint. And I realised today how worthless that is.”
I swear I saw Mortimer smiling behind his teacup. Bless him. His presence was the only reason I hadn’t completely lost my temper.
“You are lucky we accepted you at all.” Ambrose glanced at Mortimer. “It seems it was a mistake.”
“Yes, it was,” I said. “Consider this my resignation.”
“ Resignation?” spluttered Ravenshaw. “ Resignation? You insolent—! You don’t resign from the Guild!” He turned to Ambrose. “I told you! An enferni Paladin? It’s like putting a crown on a rat and calling it king.”
He rounded back to me, derision on his face, but before he could get out another word, my vision turned red, and my fist crashed into his jaw with a satisfying crack . He stumbled backwards, falling onto the stone floor and letting out a howl.
I reined in the fervour, reassuming control over my rage. Oops. Shouldn’t have done that, no matter how satisfying it was to see Ravenshaw writhe on the floor like the snake he was .
“You can cross my name off the registry yourself if you want,” I said coldly. “Talon Nyxmire. They only just got the spelling correct. Now, I’ll take my cut for my last job, then never darken your doorway again.”
Ambrose started to speak, but Mortimer stood, cutting her off. “Very well. Come with me, lad, and I’ll get you sorted.”
“You can’t let this happen, Mortimer!” Ravenshaw pulled himself up from the ground, holding his jaw. Blood dribbled down his chin as he spat out the words. “We can discharge people from the Guild, but resigning is unprecedented!”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Mortimer said cheerily, and I followed him from the room, returning Ambrose’s and Ravenshaw’s dark looks. He led me to the back room, where the lockbox was kept.
“You know, I was the one who got your application accepted,” he said, stopping and resting a hand on his large belly. The storm inside me was quelling, leaving me with a burning sense of shame.
“Yes, sir. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry if this reflects badly on you.”
He shook his head. “This reflects badly on all of us at the Guild. I hoped your addition would open some minds, prove the doubters wrong. I am sorry that didn’t happen.” He looked at me, sadness in his eyes. “It seems all I did was subject you to a rather unpleasant trial.”
I shrugged. “It’s all I ever wanted, to join the Guild. I thought, maybe, people would look at me differently.”
He sighed, reaching into his pocket and taking out a key. He unlocked the lockbox and retrieved a pouch. “There. Your final cut, and a little extra for your troubles.” He chuckled, then took some coins from his own pocket and slipped them in. “ That’s for punching Ravenshaw. Gods, I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”
I felt my face redden; it wasn’t my proudest moment. I took the pouch. I held it for a second, staring at it, trying to come up with the courage to say the next part aloud .
“Mortimer, I…I’m not a Paladin anymore. My oath is broken. It’s hollow, and I can’t use its magic.”
My hands shook, and my eyes burned as I kept them firmly fixed on the pouch. A Paladin was what I was. Something beyond just an orphaned enferni. Now I didn’t have that, I was sure what I had.
Mortimer‘s hand on my shoulder made me jump. “The magic’s not in the oath, Talon,” he said kindly. “The magic we use is like a musical note, vibrating at a certain frequency. As Paladins, we can match that frequency so completely, we can access that power. Your oath is just the tuning fork that speeds up and empowers you to find that frequency quickly.”
“I know that,” I said, slightly disappointed. It was one of the first things I’d learned.
Mortimer looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “You’re still a Paladin, Talon. You just can’t tune in to the same frequency as before. You’ll have to find a new one and a new oath to connect you to it. We don’t really like to talk about changing oaths, but you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last, to find a new path.”
I swallowed, relief washing over me.
“Best be on your way,” he said. “And I know you said you’d never darken our doorstep again, but know if you ever need anything, I’ll be here.” He looked up at me with kind eyes. “Now, this is where I’m supposed to take your Guild insignia. It’s an important item. Gets you a lot of trust and opens doors. Can’t let just anyone walk around with it.” His eyes twinkled. “Let’s just say it slipped my mind.”
“Thank you,” I said gruffly. “For everything.”
He nodded and patted my arm again. “If you’re looking for direction, I’d suggest seeking Hulm.” I managed a nod.
-
I stopped off at my room and sighed, trying to relieve some of the tension in my body. I needed to get away from here. The Guild was everywhere in this town.
I hitched a ride to the next town, where I showed my insignia to the boarding house so they’d let me rent a room and paid extra to use the bathhouse.
I stripped off my dirty clothes, put them in the basket for the staff to wash, and stepped into the shower area. I took a breath, but thankfully, it was empty. My skin was itching from the grime, and the feeling of the water hitting my skin, cleaning away the dirt, was like a little piece of heaven.
The dirt and blood from the nagai’s cave was stubborn, but with scrubbing, I managed to get myself clean again. They even had special hair soap, which I helped myself to. I watched the red and black wash away from the white of my long hair and sighed.
Then I made my way to the shared bath area. There were a couple of people in the springs, and I hovered by the entrance, the towel hugging my frame. The thought of relaxing in the hot water spurred me forwards, and I steeled myself for the stares.
I walked forward, deliberately examining the plants that decorated the edges of the water. I felt relief as I heard the others rise and exit the pool, ignoring the disgruntled mutters that were directed at me. I waited until they had left, then carefully folded my towel on the side. I waded up to my chest and took a deep breath. I let heat radiate from my skin, and the water started bubbling around me as the temperature soared. At least I still had this. Fire and light was in my blood and bones, something I’d always been able to do. I leaned back, stretching out my aching wings and enjoying the scalding water.
What should I do next ?
My life had been predictable. First and foremost: gather information about monsters that needed killing, then go and kill them. Second, behave in a way fitting to a Guild Paladin. That meant no swearing, drinking, losing your temper, no sex outside of a union; basically being polite and in control all the time.
Well, fuck that.
I scratched the back of my neck. I wasn’t planning on becoming debased, but it’d be nice to not have to follow some arbitrary rules some old human dude made hundreds of years ago that never really made sense. I was going to get laid. If I could find someone who was interested. That lifted my spirits. And no more feeling ashamed about wanting that. Well, actually, I’d hold onto a bit of that shame. My mood lifted for a second, before I remembered my next step after that… Mortimer had suggested finding Hulm.
Hulm was my mentor, the closest thing I had to family, but my connection with him had been the biggest barrier to my acceptance in the Guild. I had publicly rejected him and hadn’t seen him in many years. But Mortimer was right. I owed him an apology, at least. If he didn’t hate me, he’d know what I should do next.
I knew it would take a long time to find my new oath. Finding your oath meant knowing yourself, and a lot had changed for me.
I stayed in the bath until finally another person came through the entrance. I leaped to my feet, grabbing my towel and covering myself before they could properly see. My face burned.
“It’s, uh, a bit hot,” I said as I passed, getting a scowl. They yelped as they dipped a toe into the water.