Normalcy

Raum and Aquila proceed to talk about the pretext Aquila has arranged to transfer Raum into the Cardinal House. Aquila towels his bloodied legs clean (never before has Raum seen those pristine feathers even slightly discoloured) as he explains, Raum seated on the basin next to him.

The need for a pretext is a factor of Phoenix’s personality more than anything else. Aquila doubts he will just accept housemates, especially well-intentioned ones, simply because they showed up and offered a hand. He would discern, correctly, that they had been coerced, conspiring, or otherwise cornered into miserable pursuits that barred them from a healthy life in proper society, and in all cases demand them soon gone.

Hence, alongside Raum himself sincerely desiring to be there, there must be an official state-backed reason for Raum to be in the Cardinal House. It does not need to be a legitimate reason — but simply one that exists, that the people believe, and that overall serves the country. Aquila so means to make it an issue of national importance that Raum stays in the Cardinal House.

He would say ‘perceived’ national importance, but honestly, the peace of mind this all offers Aquila is more than trivial to the nation’s future. It just won’t be important in the angle he presents it.

Raum is, as expected, going to be announced heir. Aquila is reluctant to explain beyond that, as he would like Raum’s reaction before the crowd to be genuine.

Raum accepts this but notes it sounds like Aquila’s going to bomb the party.

Aquila just reaffirms the need for a genuine reaction without elaborating further. Raum drops the subject, unnerved, but not urgently curious.

Raum asks when the transfer can reasonably happen, given Reyl… Raum trails off. Is still in Sebilles? May still be in Sebilles?

Aquila also falls silent, knitting his lips uncomfortably. As always, that he shows any unease is ominous.

“Raum," Aquila begins, “there is a thought I have had that I must tell you, about your sister."

Raum hunches forward, shifting even his knees upon the basin rim to face him. “She’s not, dead?"

“That was not the thought," Aquila affirms vaguely. “Kingslayer, the sword I have given to Mason, is a blade that confounds magic. Such, it has been the bane of witches and ghouls for centuries, and its wielders far more apt to survive such encounters. I, myself, am also susceptible to its effects.

“Cause of the feathers?" Raum asks. Those are from a ghoul.

“Because of my blood, also. It is anathema to the entire house Asphodel. I cannot overstate, truthfully, how much of a boon it was that you had disarmed Toreas, upon that bridge," Aquila says. Regardless. Aquila had given the sword to Mason as protection, on the conceit that Reyl could be a witch. But it only occurred to Aquila some time after his strained conversation with Raum, a little before Raum left for Deram, that this protection would be completely useless.

Because Reyl couldn’t be a witch. Once Aquila finally calmed down from that conversation and thought about it properly, it was obvious. Raum had clearly been impelled by Phoenix, which to Aquila’s mind meant he had been resurrected by Phoenix for soulsmithing — meaning that he had died, and been purified. This would also be true of Reyl.

To become a witch, one must proactively destroy some fundamental part of themselves to sever a fragment of their own soul, allow it to rot upon exposure to air, and then eat it to reintegrate it with their selves. But if Raum and Reyl had been purified by Phoenix, their souls would not be able to rot. Reyl, if she had attempted the ritual, would have been stuck with a crystallised fragment of pure soul.

Aquila has no idea what the implications of this are. Such a condition does not have any precedent.

In the case of a typical witch, though, the time spent waiting for the severed fragment to rot is usually agonising and fugued. Depending on what region of the soul got severed by the ritual, and how large of a fragment it was, prospective witches could lose the faculties to even eat, breathe, or think, if not fall into a coma outright. Obviously these did not happen to Reyl, as she wasn’t found disabled at the murder site — but it does leave Aquila questioning whether she was ever in a condition to travel to Sebilles, and whether her priorities might not have shifted.

Raum quietly digests this, his chest hollow as a deflated balloon. He notes that Reyl had to at least be well enough to get out of Indris.

Aquila concedes this is true. But what he is trying to emphasise is that he has genuinely no idea what state she could be in, and by Mason’s failure to locate even a sign of her over a month, he doubts she made it to Sebilles. She is genuinely a missing persons case now.

The implications to this sit: they may not find her for years. She may be too preoccupied looking for ways to fix her soul to be thinking about Raum at all. She may have found herself in a condition where she needs to depend on others, but is trying to manage the complications herself. She may have, disoriented, just wandered into the wilderness and died.

Raum questions if she couldn’t just eat this fragment to solve the problem.

Aquila can’t explain the mechanics as it’s highly intuitive, but rotten souls are less stable than pure ones. In his own experience working with souls, rotten ones almost have a desire to spread and change forms, while pure ones sit fixed as diamonds. Because of this property, though he realises it is just conjecture, he wonders if a pure soul might not want to reintegrate as a rotten soul does, or at the very least not with the same speed.

Raum notes that the very idea of her attempting to become a witch, itself, is still just conjecture.

Aquila again concedes this is true. But he also flatly admits he thinks it the most likely reason she would have returned to Desiree, since personally, were he Reyl, he would hope himself resolute enough to murder Desiree for power, before he would ever think to cooperate with his brother’s rapist.

Raum falls silent.

Aquila apologises. He is just trying to prepare Raum for this possibility, as well. He recognises, after Raum has agreed to something so important to Aquila, that he is not doing a good job of reciprocating to Raum’s desires. Once they do know what state she is in, however, Aquila will spare no expense in returning her to Raum in as decent a condition as his powers can manage.

Aquila can scan Sebilles in the nights of the week following the party. He can do this more efficiently than Mason. If not even he can find sign of her, then he thinks it safe to assume her absent, and the city suitable for Raum to enter.

Meanwhile there is no suffering in death, Aquila reminds, and Raum knows this is true. Nor is it custom here to damn errant souls, and Raum knows this also is true.

Though these are logical reassurances, Raum can’t help but look away.

Aquila is asking him to consider Reyl already gone. Even if she can come back, even if she can be resurrected — fundamentally, he does not like to think of her being dead, lost, or unaccounted for. But isn’t that just being realistic? Isn’t Aquila’s judgement on her one he can trust?

What if she’s just good at hiding?

Aquila tilts his head in puzzlement.

What if she is in Sebilles, and she’s just good at hiding? Raum insists. Aquila has consistently underestimated Reyl, at every single juncture he could’ve. Maybe Raum is overidealising, maybe he just cannot shake his longheld sense of Reyl’s omnipotence — but what if Aquila is also just wrong again?

Moreover, if the possibility exists that Reyl could have gone to Sebilles to secure a recording of Phoenix’s voice, then Aquila is the one endangered by going there. Letting this sense of urgency take over, Raum explains his encounter with the shopkeeper who had sold her the tube recorder, and outlines the precautions he’d taken by warning the radio stations.

“—Then we must go now." Aquila bolts to his feet.

Shaken by Aquila’s abruptness, Raum lags a step in following.

“Rather, Raum, I may go on ahead. If I were to tell you to leave by the third exit upon the western wall, on the level two floors below us, to loop around and exit by the tunnel through which we came, would you be able to navigate that?"

Yeah, but, wh—

A shrill squeal sounds from the basin behind them. Raum glances back just in time to see the beam of red light twanging like a plucked guitar string, reverberating back into stillness. Aquila, cursing, lunges for the basin and frantically towels up the blood inside it. When he withdraws barely seconds later, the light that had shone upward, out from the crystal and away from the basin, is gone.

“Someone has passed through the barrier. I expect it was your father," Aquila quickly explains, dumping the towel, “I have temporarily disabled the wards to ensure he does not corrupt them with Kingslayer." He hops into the air and squints around the crystal, inspecting it for flaws, but returns to the ground, seeming relieved.

He stares up at the crystal, as though contemplating it, but is more likely plotting and masking it.

“Hey, thought process," Raum nudges.

Aquila nods, turning his gaze to Raum. “I am considering, by the deactivation of the wards, that your father must know I am here, and weighing whether he is bold enough to attack the core were he to come and find me absent. I am concerned, also, that he may corrupt resting souls as is convenient. I may need to distract him."

Aquila strides for the stairway, gesturing Raum along quickly.

“—There weapons you keep anywhere here?" Raum asks to address that angle, understanding that Aquila expects this to come to conflict, as he jogs down the stairs. Aquila leaps down the hole around which the stairway spirals, landing on air two stories below.

“No. Regrettably," replies Aquila as Raum reaches him. “I did not expect our conversation to last so long, else I would have summoned guards beforehand," he continues, “hence the contingency of myself being here…" He turns to look at the passages along the wall of this floor, and advises Raum he will avoid Mason completely by using the route Aquila indicated earlier.

Despite his desire to ask more of what’s going on, being that Aquila wants things to move quickly, Raum accepts this without complaint.

Aquila instructs Raum to, in this sequence: order the head of the guard to send a contingent of troops to a church on the outskirts of the city, escort a second contingent into the crypts, leave them with a feather, and order a formalised cancellation of the heir announcement broadcast. Aquila passes Raum two feathers to facilitate all this.

Aquila will be taking a shorter route, he advises. He may exit before Raum.

So briefed, Raum asks no further questions, and sprints down the tunnel alone.

Raum exits the tunnels to find the city in unrest. He hires a carriageman to transport him to the barracks, and during the trip he sees several unsettling things: guardsmen already in motion, and corpses being ferried on stretchers out of homes. Though not yet at the level of chaos of Indris or Joliet, being that he only catches this sight once every three or four blocks, Raum barely restrains the urge to jump out of the carriage and ask, What happened!?

Instead he urges the carriage faster and soon arrives at the barracks. The commander there is also perplexed, and is still putting together the situation herself, but has reason to suspect the city has suffered a terrorist attack. Raum forwards Aquila’s orders, and with the feather attesting their importance, the commander in turn radios her troops to new stations, while Raum departs with the handful of troops still stationed at the barracks. He meets up with more at the entrance to the tunnel. The military efficiency to it all is stunning.

Raum escorts the troops and leaves without issue. That his inclusion is necessary must mean not even the guards of Ferendaux know the layout of these tunnels.

This time Raum aims for the radio station, and arrives to find the place already in frenzy. When his carriage pulls up, he is immediately accosted by the director, who asks with incredible stress and exasperation if Raum is the palace transport. Raum affirms he will be going to the palace after, which is not quite the answer the director was looking for, but is apparently close enough.

The director leads Raum to the broadcasting room. Blood spatters the walls, and slivers of soul are scattered all across the room like shrapnel from a grenade. Though the bodies are absent, this is plainly the same cause of death as what the majordomo suffered in Indris.

Which, in itself, explains what happened. The director supplements Raum’s assumptions with confirmation that the hosts of this channel were airing their usual segment, then boom, the screaming started and he busts in to see this.

The director shoves a box into Raum’s hands. Raum, uselessly, advises the heir broadcast is cancelled. The director snorts yeah. Now every other broadcast is too. The director sighs, dropping the issue, but Raum feels the accusations on his skin. You said it’d be safe until the day of that announcement.

Raum winces with guilt. The director looks to Raum, then over the room again, and shuffles away.

Getting the hint, Raum sets to boxing the fragments of soul, letting the brainlessness of the work fill his mind with nothing.