“Hævn?” The priestess responded, horrified. “Vengeance?
Do not stain so pure an instrument by naming it so!”
Callista Armageddon held the gleaming shield aloft with
both hands, admiring its unearthly craftsmanship. It’s balance was as fine as
any she had ever tested.
“And why not Vengeance?” she said, darkly. Her new adventuring companion did not seem to
understand the significance of the word to the half-orc warrior. This bulwark would help her right the great
wrong that had been done to her clan.
She could name it whatever she wished.
It had rightfully passed to her from the captain of the archons they had
defeated in the tower of the vile wizard, Alystaire.
After a moment’s reflection, she paused. The celestials had been worthy opponents, and
yet . . .
She had brought death to many foes, but none had ever
left her feeling . . . what was it? She frowned as she realized what was
tugging at the edge of her conscience.
It was regret.
“I did not want to fight them, Amalielle.”
“The guardians did as they were charged. You did as your destiny demanded. The quarrel could not have been avoided. There is no dishonor in the deed.”
“It is not a question of honor,” she replied, turning her
gaze to the young aasimar. “The archons were beings of truth, servants of
light. And now they are dead, and the
world is a lesser place for it.”
Amalielle smiled ever so slightly. “They are not dead, veninde. On your world, they are only spirits made
flesh. And though the flesh may be
destroyed, yet still the spirit endures.
They go back to the heavens from whence they came, but in time, they may
return.” She smiled a bit more
broadly. “After so many long years
standing watch over this tower, I think they have earned a respite from their charge.”
The priestess folded her arms across her chest. “I am well pleased that you do not wish harm
on such noble creatures. It shows your
true quality, and I am honored to call you friend.”
“And the deva?
What does your Grimjaws think of that?
She was numbered among his servants, once. You said so yourself. Is she not truly dead and gone, forever? She can never be redeemed to her master's
cause."
“The deva was broken in mind and body, but she is finally
at peace. Her last bit of remaining purity consecrates this tower, where once
she had suffered in unspeakable agony.
She has been redeemed. Her
death was made meaningful, and just."
The half-orc knight considered her companion’s words for
a moment, and looked back at the shield, raising it before her again.
“Justice.”
Callista announced. “Its name is
Justice.”
“Aaah, Retfærdighed,” she said approvingly. “Much better!
A most worthy name for such an ægis.”
Callista nodded and slung the shield across her
back. As the two adventurers moved to
leave the lower level of their new tower home, she suddenly stopped. When Amalielle realized that her friend was
no longer walking beside her, she too stopped and looked back.
“What is it?”
“Tell me of your Grimjaws, Amalielle,” she said, then
continued on toward the ascending stairwell. “I would know more of the one you
serve.”
The young Aasimar smiled to herself again as her new
friend passed by.
“With pleasure, veninde.”