The Pilgrim and the Fool

After prayin’ in the cold Horisal night, I ventured back to the warmth of the Last Woodpecker. The sound of slumber filled the room, with the exception of soft scrawlin’'s from Lady Ceridwen journalin’ at the centre table. She shared that she had woken up, disturbed by the distinct lack of tickin’ from my hand's mechanisms that have become the background noise for our restin’ party, and decided to wait up upon seein’ my empty bed.

We exchanged in hushed conversation on how my first prayer since I was a young boy went. The look on her face when I said I denounced a God, or more accurately but less dramatically denounced an oppressive monotheistic interpretation of a God, was quite the cheerful tease needed after the long week. It was comfortin’ to share in a new experience with my dear friend, and her enthusiasm infected me with excitement to explore this new path of faith together.

That night when I turned to rest, I made peace with the beat of metal in my head, as it grew to become saws, clicks, scratches, squeaks, bubbles, as if a whole workshop was in my mind. All the sounds quietly tickin’ along together in harmony, like clockwork.

In the mornin’, somethin’ felt different. I felt different. I kicked my blanket off in a hot fidget, my body was burnin’ like I had a fever. But no sickness or nausea, wasn't even sweatin’ despite the heat pulsin’ through my body. The fingers on both my hands, yes even the metal one, thrummed in sensation. I felt like the steel I had been workin’ on durin’ the week, I was gettin’ up to temperature for somethin’, and then the hammer struck.

Commander Jareth and the Pale Guard knocked and entered our quarters. They asked to see Lawd Raphael's belongin’s, and revealed that Lawd Percy had been attacked by assassin with eleven features and dark clothin’ in the night. Percy thankfully survived, and was bein’ treated for his wounds. We were invited to visit the Castle to check on the de Rolos' and shared our experiences of murderers in black with Mr Kursk in Westruun, could there be a connection we wondered?

But sadly, it wasn't too long until our wonderin’s were answered. Later after we had visited the de Rolos', Jareth and the Pale Guard came to our door with another accusation. This time it was Sabali who was the suspect. That darn boy had been actin’ strange all day, and was avoidin’ us and Zeni. When Zeni messaged Sabali through her magic, and relayed her message to us, I knew through her attempts to obfuscate that he had done it. Poor girl was tryin’ to lie to herself, as much as to us.

We eventually found Sabali hidin’ in a tree at the Troubled Donkey, after a bit of a heated stand off and very generous patience of Commander Jareth, Sabali had surrendered to ourselves and the riflemen. In custody and under testimony of his own initial honesty, and subsequently reconfirmed through the magic of truth, Sabali confirmed he was the assassin who tried to kill Percy. He is a member of the Shade Temple, a quasi-religious organisation of assassins who apparently only target evil doers through coded orders to their members.
 
The previous attack in the night was by another operative who failed and called on Sabali to finish the job. But it seemed he had followed an order that brought into serious doubt the intentions of the temple. He had targeted a fairly innocent man, a Lawd beloved by his people, and a personal hero to myself and Vasselheim, if not all of Exandria with his exploits as a member of Vox Machina. However, Lawd Percy wasn't his only order for the Temple, Sabali revealed it was him who killed Kursk back in Westruun. Carelessly riskin’ an implication of Wind in the murder, and sendin’ everyone on a wild goose chase on who killed this corrupt official.

The mornin’ warmth in my body was now a bright white heat, I wanted to be angry at this boy. But that was exactly it, he's a boy. I forget despite how powerful and accomplished our group are, half of them are still young'uns. And when Sabali told us of how he was recruited by the temple as an orphan boy on the street, and groomed into an unthinkin’ weapon. Any heat for him was quickly quenched as soon as it rose, and that white heat burned to meltin’ point against the Shade Temple and myself.

The tabaxi in the cage wasn't a ruthless assassin, he was poor child brainwashed in the zealotry of those with power and no accountability. I've seen what happens with puppets who believe they are doin’ the righteous thin’, and last night I set myself on a path to cut those strings.

As angry with the temple as I was, I could not absolve myself of any blame for this situation. I failed to take more notice or interest in him, I took his words of fightin’ to defeat evil at face value. Without lookin’ to press on what or who counted as evil? The more I think about it, the more embarrassed I am at the missed signs. I thought his reckless run offs to fight alone were just cock sureness of youth, to some extent it probably is that, but he's a trained assassin, it's lonely work. He's never had to fight alongside others, to have a team and consider how to work together or how his actions could impact others?

After his confession in the open cells, Lawd Percy showed an act of forgiveness that will stay with me for my life. This man could rightfully have sentenced and executed Sabali for his attack, but it became apparent in a private conversation afterwards, the Lawd was still practicing to be a good man. Sabali was the bullet of the Shade Temple’s gun, and the gun needed to be deactivated. He offered Sabali his freedom, if he would help the Unbroken to investigate the Shade Temple, find out why he was targeted and either root out the corruption or pull the order down if too far gone. Sabali agreed and we left in the dusk of what remained of the day.

Lady Ceridwen made her excuses from the group, she was of course naturally disturbed by the turn of today's events and needed time to go and follow the pilgrim's path in prayer. The others thought nothin’ more of Ceri's words, but I knew those words and that face of hers. The Platinum Dragon’s wrath was roiling inside her, pure fight or flight, and if she didn’t get away then heavens help any fool who tries to tame that fire.
 
Heavens help me as I’m that fool.

"Not that it’s mine to give, but you have permission to speak freely Solider” I call out to her after makin’ my way to catch up with her alone from the party. She turned round, and I could see the turmoil in that bright face of hers. This was certainly an unexpected situation, and one we had been fortunate enough not to have experienced before in the militia. We shared no disagreement that Sabali needed help, her compassioned overwhelmed her at the thought of Sabali's lost childhood and innocence to slavers and shadow soldiers. His world, granted one of violence and twisted morality, was beginnin’ to crumble, as we saw the doubt enter his mind for the first time about what he was doin’. He is in a delicate and complicated situation, one that Ceri's faith was strugglin’ to resolve.

I can't argue that Sabali doesn't need some time and space to fully realise what that temple had done to him. But the boy is only just recognisin’ he might have a problem, and it can take time for people to ask for help. We might not be the best people to fix him, but we are the only ones here who will try to, if only even to hold the pieces together for a while.

Yes, he can't find redemption by bein’ a twist of irony as a weapon created by the Temple bein’ used against them. Redemption comes from takin’ responsibility. I will make it clear that he has a choice of whether he fights the temple with us if it comes to it, and I will encourage whatever blossomin’ sense of agency he develops. He isn't absolved of his actions, but bein’ with us will help hold him to account to the values and responsibilities he holds and we share as the Unbroken.

"We failed him before, but we can't fail him now. He is just realisin’ his path doesn't always have to be in shadow, he just needs a light to guide him out of the dark. Ceri, he needs you, they need you, I need you..." As my words lose me, I see her face broken with pearl like tears. My own eyes stain my cheeks as well.

I could just sense something adrift in her, the injustice is just too much to bear for her right now. She focuses so much on the individuals that her path brings her to, I fear for the pain she’ll face when she sees what I see, that Sabali might not be the only lost innocent to the Shade Temple.
 
The Pilgrim was lost on her path, I thought I could see a route through for her, but it's not my journey to take. In the winter’s silence broken by the sniffles of us both trying (and failing) to keep a stiff upper lip, I passed her a small token, a platinum scaled band. Part of a gift I had been workin’ on for the Unbroken. I hope a source of comfort to channel her prayers and let us be there for her in finding the right path. Finally continuing the earlier unorthodox of military hierarchy, my Captain asked for her Sergeant to dismiss her. Granted Soldier.

The bitin’ cold of the night drew in and froze the leaks of emotions on my cheeks, and I looked out as the light of the sun faded beneath the horizon. Both the Brightflames in my view were gone.

Another long night followed, Sabali wasn't the only one in for a night of revelations. The poison of secrecy was bein’ drawn from us. The wound to the Unbroken is still sore, but it will heal in time.

I woke up in the night, the harmony in my head was in discord, as if a tool was missin’ in the workshop. I saw the empty bed of my friend, and acknowledged the irony of our exchanged fates from the previous night to wake and find the other not there. But my heart soon sank as I recalled that sense of her adrift in the sea of her emotions, and began to worry that she wasn’t only lost to herself but also to us…