Paul Waynd was led to one of the upper floors of the Temple of the Undertaker by a young acolyte until they reached the office of the local High Priestess. She was also one of the few Emerald Casters in the city, though still only about halfway through. Her abilities were not focused on combat but rather on cleansing the nd of death energy and preparing those who have passed to be put to rest.

  As he took a seat across the desk from the cinderen High Priestess, Esilin Deveen, she waited for the acolyte to leave before sliding a folder over to him.

  Paul took it just as silently and looked over the single piece of paper within.

  Phoenix Fraser, Wayfarer.

  Death by internal organ failure.

  Death by soul reality transfer.

  Death by fall resulting in break of the neck.

  Death by blood loss and internal organ damage and removal.

  Death by blood loss and drowning.

  Death by complete structural colpse.

  Total of six deaths so far.

  Paul stared at the st two words for a moment before raising an eyebrow at the priestess, who simply gave him a shrug and a small smile. His gruff voice broke the silence, “So there’s no way to tie the killer to any of these deaths?”

  Esilin shook her head regretfully, “I’m afraid not, Lord Waynd. The most we give to those outside of the clergy is the cause.”

  “Even if it means letting a murderer go loose?” he growled.

  She gave another pcating smile, “My god is not the Adjudicator. Perhaps you should talk to their disciples if justice is what you seek.”

  Paul frowned as he gnced back at the paper in his hands. He was surprised to see more deaths listed than the ones Phoenix had told him about, but he was left to assume that she wasn’t truly aware of them. That left him with even more questions as to her time in her old world, but he knew breaching the topic would most likely upset her.

  Instead, Paul asked, “You will keep the fact that she died and came back a secret, yes, High Priestess?” He gave her a look that almost dared her to disagree.

  Esilin gave a soft chuckle as she reassured him, “Oh, yes. I think my god is slightly annoyed that a soul like hers managed to find a way into his realm of influence.” She gave a sigh and seemed to say to herself as though dealing with a stubborn child, “But that is the nature of the Wayward.”

  “The Wayward?” Paul asked, noticing the emphasis of a title.

  “Forget you heard that. It is much beyond both our Castes and of no concern to those outside of the Undertaker’s clergy,” she dismissed, then leaned back in her chair as she forcibly changed the subject, “It also seems like my Lord doesn’t want the followers of the Necromancer hearing so much as a whisper about your Protégé.”

  The former Padin of the Purifier tensed, “You think the necromancers would come for her?”

  “I’m almost certain,” she replied, her gaze turning hard. “Many would want to try replicating the effect of her Talent and their methods of study…” Her expression soured, “Well, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. You know more about that than most.”

  Paul slowly nodded, gazing over the page once more before silently handing it back to the priestess, “Thank you for the information that you were able to provide. I’ll ask you to destroy this since we don’t want the information spreading.”

  He stood and gave a formal bow, then turned to leave when Esilin spoke up again, “I wasn’t joking about speaking with the Adjudicator’s clergy, Lord Waynd.”

  The fallen padin turned to look at her sternly as she lifted the paper in her hand, “This is a complicated situation, and I, for one, think you may want to seek some divine intervention to obtain the outcome you seek. You and I both know that a person can get away with a lot more when a god has tasked them with fulfilling their will.”

  Paul’s frown deepened as Esilin gave another smile and finished, “Just something to think about, Lord Waynd, the Bde of Pure Wrath.”

  “These are serious accusations you are levying against another noble House, Lord Waynd,” the cinderen man standing next to a rge hearth said as he took another sip of amber liquid from the short gss in his hand.

  “I know, Duke Tul,” Paul replied seriously, “But we cannot allow their treachery to continue. Even if it is by the cim of one person, I hold them in high regard and believe they speak the truth. I know we have our… disagreements. However, we cannot let a single House gain so much unchecked power and condone the use of hired assassins to take out any perceived threat. For all we know, you or I could be the next target.”

  The duke stood staring into the fire for a long moment before finally nodding and saying, “We can begin the investigation. Lord Teras has been a respected member of the aristocracy, and having your House’s backing will help assuage any ciming a dominance py.

  “The potential threat is too great to ignore. However, I doubt we will be able to convict Noble Murinah based on only the words of a single child, an outsider no less,” Victor grumbled, turning to stare at Paul, considering, “Saying that you and I have had a contentious past would be putting it lightly. You were always a thorn in my side at every event. For decades, you often spoke out against me.”

  “Not on everything,” Paul interjected, “If you suggested something that truly benefited the safety of the city, I was right there with you.”

  “Safety is not the only thing a city needs, Waynd,” Victor barked before calming himself a moment ter and expounded while pacing, “Our ancestors knew that people need more than just a roof and strong walls to flourish. It is not a waste to promote beauty and convenience to make life more enjoyable for everyone. Sometimes you are too focused on fixing a single problem that you miss the fact that it’s a symptom of a different one.”

  Paul nodded, “You’re right.”

  “I know you disag– wait, what?” the startled duke corrected, turning to stare at him.

  He met Victor’s eyes, red embers among hot coals, and repeated, “You’re right. It’s how I’ve always tackled a problem. Head on and with overwhelming force. I’ve been a Striker with the AOA for forty years; it’s ingrained in me. I’m not a leader, despite being forced to be one. I wasn’t the one who led my party; I was the one who fought for them.

  “But people can change,” he continued, expining, “Other people can give them reasons to change. I’ve been lost for a long time, but I’ve found purpose again. I’ve still been attacking issues I see head-on, but I know that won’t work for everything. I need your support and the understanding of the other nobles and people of this city to take down the enemies within.”

  Paul paused and leaned forward to emphasize his sincerity, “Victor, I need your help with this.”

  Duke Tul watched him for a long time before taking another deep drink to finish off his gss. He then went to pour himself another while speaking, “I disagreed with your father’s decision to name you heir. You are the first and only human to lead one of the noble Houses within my duchy, and I thought it folly to add potential strife during such a tumultuous time –not to mention the contention of your fall from grace and more recent redemption. People do not like to admit they were wrong.”

  The Emerald Caster nodded and leaned back as he spoke, “I understand, Your Grace. If it makes any difference, I would have preferred my sister to take up the mantle instead. She is much better suited for politics and, as a runeforged, would have no strife in that regard. I already pn to abdicate to her once the blood moon is over.”

  Victor observed him for another minute before continuing, “Though I was against it at the time, you have shown your strength and dedication by protecting our city. If your father had not chosen you, and if the queen had not assigned you, then you would not be here at this time, and Tulimeir would have suffered for it.

  “If you had not taken this… Wayfarer under your wing, then we may not have known about a potential traitor in our midst,” Victor admitted, turning back to the fire. The duke sighed regretfully but stated firmly, “However, I will have justice run its course. Whether House Ruwena turns out to have nefarious intentions or not, if it comes down to the words of your apprentice against the words of a noble heir, there will be no consequence without proof of the crimes you cim.”

  Paul clenched his fists at the words, “So there will be no justice?”

  “Is it justice to convict without proof?” Victor asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “She is guilty.”

  “Even so, I cannot call it justice to punish based on words alone,” the duke stated resolutely, “You know I am dedicated to the Adjudicator, and she will not condone judgment without evidence. If you want further action, get more proof. Hopefully, our investigation will provide that, but I cannot promise punishment without just reason.”

  The lords fell silent, and Paul absentmindedly twirled the golden band around his wrist as he mentally went through his next options and formuted pns. He calmly spoke as he stood and gave a formal bow, “Very well, Your Grace. I shall leave justice in your hands.”

  Paul stared up at the small obelisk that cimed to be a temple in the southeastern district of Tulimeir. It appeared as bck obsidian with golden cracks and streams of blood running down it in chaotic rivulets. While he had never been in direct odds with this particur deity and their clergy, they were not normally considered to be… respectable. However, no one would dare to show them disrespect.

  He had been struggling with himself for a long time about coming here, but he figured seeking guidance couldn’t hurt, at least.

  “Is Waynd certain about this?” Orebe slowly asked.

  “They may have the solution I need,” he replied, taking another step forward and lifting a hand to push the stone door open.

  “Waynd and This One both know the solution they will offer,” she retorted in a quicker tempo, “Is Waynd really willing to go this far for the Little Miss?”

  When his Familiar phrased the question in that way, he found his resolve as he entered the temple and firmly replied, “And further.”

  “Lord Waynd,” a Sapphire Caste priestess in bck robes trimmed with gold and a red sash, greeted him with a bow. “I think most would cim this to be a surprise, to have you visit our humble halls, but my Lord has whispered that we may have the answer you have been seeking since long before your Protégé entered our world.”

  “Your Lord has deigned to notice a Fallen Padin?” Paul questioned with a raised brow.

  “It is most often the Fallen that seek us out,” she replied with a smirk, “I am High Priestess Natalia Kosto, and I only have one question for you: are you here for assistance or redemption?”

  He stopped walking towards her when they were a mere meter away from each other, and the golden lord crossed his arms, “I’ve never sought redemption. As far as I’m concerned, it was not I who fell and needed forgiveness to begin with.”

  “Indeed,” the priestess said with a bow of her head, “A terrible injustice has been done to both you and your apprentice.”

  “And it seems that justice will never be something that either of us will receive,” he stated ftly, “I am here for more than assistance from the clergy. I seek an alliance.”

  Natalia’s smirk turned into a Cheshire grin as she replied, “That is what my Lord was hoping for. I’m sure you know what an alliance will entail?”

  “That is for your Lord and I to come to terms on,” he responded carefully.

  Her smile didn’t falter in the slightest at the soft rebuttal, but she turned and led him towards a small gss lift, “Then I shall take you to him to… negotiate.”

  They were silent on the short three-story ride to the top of the obelisk, and Paul was reminded of how minor this god was. This deity didn’t have many who praised their actions or children wishing to join when they were old enough. He had never given this pce much thought during his own adolescence, but for the st six years, he had been struggling to find reasons not to dedicate himself to this cause.

  As the gss doors slid open, Paul could immediately sense the presence of the deity on this floor as he exited the elevator alone. The High Priestess didn’t need to be told what to do as the god she served had a direct link to return her prayers with Whispers, messages from the divine sent directly into one’s mind that usually served as a comfort to the devout.

  When Paul had lost that connection from the Purifier, it had been both a loss and a relief. A relief because of the discord that had grown between him and the god Whispering to do actions he viewed as evil, but a loss because that divine bond had been a reassuring anchor to his very being. Luckily, he had Orebe to help fill that void.

  Those st few years in the Fallen god’s service had been some of the most trying for him, even causing his long-time adventuring party to fracture soon after he discovered how wrong he had been about the purpose he was serving. That fear of being wrong again, of being betrayed by the god he had dedicated himself to, was the reason that this particur deity was the only one he would even consider working with.

  The god that now stood before him appeared as an older cinderen with fiery red hair, dressed in gleaming obsidian armor with gold embellishments and a crimson cloak. The deity was standing in front of a rge map covered in various colored pins, and he gave him a knowing smile. “Paul Waynd, I was wondering how long it would take you to finally seek me out.”

  Paul knelt in supplication to the divine being, as he had trained himself to do for decades, “I thought coming here would be giving into my rage,” he admitted honestly, “I believed it would give me a false purpose –a crutch for my wounded pride.”

  “And now?” the god asked, casually moving closer, but each footfall felt like the inevitable was approaching him.

  “Now I’ve found my new purpose and have realized that it is in alignment with your own,” he took a steadying breath, slightly nervous despite his resolve, but Paul knew what he needed to do, “I seek your blessing, support, and understanding in honoring my agency to fulfill my duties as a noble and mentor. In return, I offer my service as your Padin.”

  “Stand, Paul Waynd,” the deity commanded, and he obeyed, standing to find the god only an arm’s length away, “You understand that devoting yourself to my will means there will be no fall from grace should you disagree with the quests I give? Unlike the Purifier, I will not be turned upon. Be assured that I will respect the duties you are currently dedicated to for your stations, but the quests I give are rarely pleasant and must be followed to the letter.”

  Paul paused for a moment, letting the weight of those words settle on him. He fully understood that not being allowed to become a Fallen Padin meant his life would be forfeited instead. It had honestly been a surprise to him when the Purifier allowed him to fall from grace rather than demand his death. At this point, however, he knew the downfall of the cleansing god would most likely be from arrogance.

  He had done his research on this clergy long ago, though, and knew exactly what kind of quests the god had been known to give. That was the reason most shied away from this pce and its disciples. The tales he had heard, however, were nothing compared to some of the things he had seen or done under the orders of the Purifier.

  It did make him want to crify one thing, though, “You know all the reasons that brought me here. Will you triumph where justice failed?”

  “I believe that together, you and I can actualize the outcomes you desire with both the Renseres and your Protégé’s killers –not to mention the Soul Reapers that threaten all of us. I admit that it has been many years since I had a Padin at your level of Caste. With your dedication, I believe it will be enough to make some of my own moves in the grand game of the divine,” the armor-cd deity surmised with a slight smirk.

  The Fallen Padin bowed his head then and firmly said, “I understand the risks and am resolved in my choice. I will perform the quests you command to the best of my ability.”

  “Then I accept your terms of service,” the god replied with a stern nod, “Say the vow, make a life Oath, take my blessing, and perform my will.”

  He nodded in return and recited, “I dedicate myself as your Padin. My bde is your bde. Your words are my words. My life is your life. Your will is my will.”

  As he felt the bond between him and his new god settle within his soul, he then made his Oathbond in exchange for a Padin’s Blessing, “I swear upon my magic to serve your will according to our terms until you release me or betray the faith I pce in you. I will become your Padin and manifest your will into reality. I am yours, Avenger.”

  The god held out a glowing hand, and Paul took it in his own, dispying the newly tattooed rainbow runes marking his Oathbond wrapped around his wrist. The next instant, he fell back to a knee as the god’s power washed over and through him, altering his very being as the deity bestowed his divine blessing and cultivated one of his Talents further.

  Natural Talent: Zealous Avenger

  Cultivated from [Unknown Potential] due to unlocking the Zeal Aspect.

  Cultivated from [Zealous Bounty] due to the Avenger’s Blessing.

  You can loot sin enemies with a touch. The quality of loot is increased if targets are sin with the [Nemesis] Bane in effect.You gain further insight into yourself and your enemies.Divine abilities have increased effect.You can mark a target that has been touched by your aura with [Nemesis].Nemesis (bane, tracking, divine): You can be tracked by the Caster of this Bane. You take increased damage from Divine sources. Regeneration is decreased.

  New Divine Title: Padin of the Avenger

  Your aura has been altered by the divine entity: Avenger. The alteration has enhanced the strength of your aura, increasing its range and resistance to effects from higher Castes. The appearance of your conjured items has been altered. People can sense your desire to seek retribution through your aura.

  Paul stared at the semi-translucent scrap of paper that seemed to float in the air in front of him with obsidian lettering, spelling out what had just happened to him much the same way that Phoenix’s [Guide Book] did.

  He gnced up at Avenger, who simply grinned and asked rhetorically, “Insightful, isn’t it?”

  The newly blessed Padin nodded silently, and the god cpped his hands together, “Now, I already have your first target, and I think you’ll really like it.”